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beauvibaby · 4 years

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single mom – j.benn

a/n: this was a super random idea that just came to me, well really it was the grocery scene but it just clicked so

Your daughter, fast asleep on your lap, her head resting on your chest, you let the tears fall. You shifted her off of you and into her small bed, tucking her in before rushing out of the room, not wanting to wake her with your cries. You left her door cracked open, just how she had insisted she likes it, your mind racing back to the conversation you’d just had with her.

“I want daddy!” Jade shrieked at you, throwing her stuffed animal–from her father when she was first born–down onto the ground in protest. You looked at the three year old in warning, “Jade, honey, it’s time for bed.” You tried to push past the subject, you knew it was the wrong thing to do, but you had a long, exhausting day at work and you didn’t have the patience to have the conversation with her again that her father wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. He seemingly decided that she was suddenly too much for him, leaving her at your fathers house with a letter for you and then disappearing entirely. You knew, when she was born, it would only be a matter of time until he abandoned her, already blaming you for getting pregnant. “I don’t want you! I want daddy.” She snapped, not only shattering your heart, but also making you grow frustrated. “You don’t say things like that, it’s mean, you hurt my feelings.” You told her as calmly as you could muster, she huffed, but didn’t say anything as you continued pulling out her clothes for school tomorrow. “Mommy, I’m sorry.” She whispered after a moment, clinging to your legs, you nodded down at her, not trusting your voice for a moment.

You trudged to your room, finally being able to remove those constricting work clothes. An office job, which you hated, but it was the only thing that worked with the hours you needed for Jade. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

***

“How much longer mommy?” Jade complained from her spot standing on the side of the cart, “we just need your snacks and then some cereal.” You assured the fussy girl, knowing she hated going grocery shopping with you. “Do you want fruit snacks or–Jade?!” You had only turned for a few seconds, to see what they had on the shelves, but now she was gone. “Jade!” You called, eyes darting around the aisle, you yanked your purse out of the cart, abandoning it in a panic of searching for your daughter. You ran up and down the aisles, trying to figure out where she could have gone. Cereal, the cereal, you turned around and all but ran to the other side of the store, praying and hoping that somehow she had found her way there. Your prayers were answered as you rounded the corner and you saw Jade standing beside a fairly tall man, “Jade!” You gasped, running over to her, yanking her up into your arms quickly. “You can’t do that, you can’t just walk away from me like that!” You rushed, not even noticing the guy standing there holding the exact box of cereal you were going to be buying. “I’m sorry, mommy.” Jade looked at you with wide eyes, never seeing you like this, because she’s never pulled a stunt like this.

“Umm, excuse me?” The man spoke up, making you turn towards him, Jade still being in your arms, “yes?” You answered him, trying to calm your racing heart. “I believe she was looking for this.” He held out the box of cereal, shaking it lightly, Jade smiling at him with her biggest smile. “Mr Jamie got it.” She told you, looking proud of herself for having help in getting the cereal off the top shelf. You let out a soft breathy laugh, “thank you, Uh, Jamie, I guess.” You spoke lightly, “anytime…” he trailed off, not knowing your name. “Y/N.” You called over your shoulder, beginning the trek to where your cart was hopefully still left.

Once you’d gotten back to your cart, you put Jade in it this time, despite her protests, “no, you did the one thing you’re not supposed to do.” You told her, not giving into her pout, she huffed and dramatically crossed her arms, not speaking to you for the remainder of the time in the store. She only spoke when you buckled her into her car seat, before loading the groceries into the trunk. “Can you play frozen?” She asked sleepily, you nodded at her tired face, turning the car on and playing the frozen soundtrack off of your phone, her eyes shutting as she hummed along to let it go, falling asleep nearly instantly. You glanced up at the sound of someone walking past, Jamie, of course, he didn’t notice you as he walked, but that was short lived as he walked up to the truck parked next to your car. You stayed silent, only smiling when you felt him looking over at you, “it’s not really polite to stare you know.” You quipped, shutting your trunk lightly, not wanting to wake Jade. “I wasn’t staring.” He defended, smirking softly, leaning against the side of his truck, his small amount of groceries already packed away. “Mhm, thank you for the cereal by the way, I’m sorry she bothered you.” You responded genuinely, realizing you were too worked up in the store to thank him. “It wasn’t a bother, she’s adorable.” He assured you, smiling as you glanced into the car at her. “She is.” You agreed, finding yourself wishing you had more conversation to have with Jamie.

“Have a nice day, Jamie.” You bid him goodbye, shoving your cart into the designated spot, “you too, Y/N.” He responded, eyes lingering as you got into your car.

***

Jamie watched as Tyler looked at him with a shocked expression, “you met a girl?” Tyler gaped at him, the two of them talking while getting ready for the game, “no, well yes, but no.” Jamie stumbled over his words, not even entirely sure what to say. “It’s a simple question, yes or no?” Tyler smirked, halting his process to give Jamie his full attention. “Ugh, ok I was at the store, and this little girl came up to me, asking if I could get her this cereal, then her mom came running around the corner looking for her.” Jamie explained, “they were both so sweet, and her mom, she was just stunning.” Jamie added, feeling his cheeks turn pink. “Did you get her number?” Tyler asked, as if it was so simple. “No! I don’t know if she’s got a boyfriend or anything, I can’t just assume she’s a single mom.” He rushed, making up excuses, “she was younger than me for sure too.” He added, as if that would be reason enough to not have an interest in you. “Oh come on, who cares if she’s younger, if you see her again, by some miracle, you have to make a move.” Tyler insisted, and they left the conversation at that.

“Dad, are you sure she’s not too young?” You asked for the hundredth time, adjusting your daughters loose jersey, he had become your go to babysitter, and he insisted on taking you and Jade to a hockey game, saying that she would watch them on tv when she was with him. “She’s not too young, she’s going to have a blast!” He laughed at your concern, taking her from you, he had gifted you both with plain, non player jerseys for the team, your father wasn’t loaded by any means, but he had worked hard in his life, and now that your mother had passed and it was just him, he sold the house and got a small condo, using the extra money to buy himself tickets to see his favorite team. “Alright, alright, let’s go.” You gave in, following him into the arena.

The seats were better than you had thought they would be, and you couldn’t deny how it made you a little extra excited. “Go down to the glass, see if you can get her a puck.” Your dad insisted, sending Jade with you, once you reached the boards, you lifted her up to be on your hip, they were doing warm ups, some of the players not bothering with helmets, one in particular caught your eye. He’d skated by so fast, but something about him looked vaguely familiar, you couldn’t place your finger on it, but you pushed it to the back of your mind as you told Jade to wave at them, hoping one of them would be kind enough to send a puck over for her. A few of them went by without even noticing you guys, then the familiar one came to a stop, ice flying up, making Jade giggle, she shocked you by knocking on the glass, causing him to turn around. You went wide eyed, and so did he. You watched as he held up a finger in a hang on motion, Jade laughed, watching him skate quickly across the ice, doing something quickly behind the bench. He rushed back over, making sure to send some ice up again for Jade as she grinned, he pointed to her through the glass and tossed a puck up in the air, you caught it and gave it to her. Then he pointed at you, tossing another puck over, except this one had writing scribbled on it.

“Can I have your number?”

You read it with a blush, looking up to see him shifting his weight back and forth on his skates, you nodded, sending Jade to your dad who was standing in the aisle watching, she rushed over to him, excited to show him the puck. Jamie tossed a silver sharpie over to you, a grin etched onto his face, you motioned to the puck, and he nodded. You wrote the number down, sending the sharpie and then the puck back over for him, giving him a short wave as he skated back to the bench, a few of the guys nudging his shoulders. Your dad was watching skeptically, “I’ve been told that you know, Mr Jamie.” He quoted your daughter, smiling fondly when you turned pink. “We met in the grocery store.” You went on to tell him the story until the game started, all three of you getting sucked in to the sport as it went on.

Once your dad had dropped you and Jade off at your home, you were exhausted, and carrying her up the stairs to your apartment was only more tiring as the elevator was currently out of service. Jade didn’t make a peep as you laid her down in bed, a smile on her sleeping face, you kissed her forehead lightly, “sweet dreams, baby girl.” You whispered.

Your phone vibrated on your nightstand as you got ready for bed, an unknown number on the screen.

“I’m glad Jade liked the puck, you could definitely pay me back by going on a date with me.”

It was a bold move on his part, but you didn’t mind one bit. You read the message three times before coming up with your response,

“Wouldn’t I just owe you more after you pay for me?”

Your smile widened as the three dots came up right away, you couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip in anticipation.

“I have a feeling that time with you will be priceless.”

If you weren’t already daydreaming about him, you definitely would be now.

***

“Are you sure?” You asked your dad for the third time since he got here, Jade happily eating her dinner while you two talked just out of her earshot, “I’m sure, you deserve to go out and have some fun.” He assured you, “she’ll be fine, worse comes to worse, you can say you had dinner with Jamie Benn.” Your dad added, smirking at the end. You lightly whacked his shoulder, “thanks for having faith in my ability to have a good date.” You joked, earning a deep laughter from your dad. “You’ll be fine, honey, now say goodbye to Jade and get going!” He pushed you towards your daughter, smiling as she looked up at you with a messy smile. “Where did you learn to eat?” You teased her, squatting beside her, wiping her face with a napkin, “kiss.” You demanded with a laugh, grinning as she pecked your cheek. “I love you.” You told her, getting a muffled one in response as she continued munching away on her food. “Promise you’ll call me for anything.” You pleaded with your dad as he pushed you out the door, “yes, I promise, have fun.” He shut the door before you could continue, giving you no option but to head out for your date, your nerves growing with every minute closer you got.

“Y/N!” You heard from across the parking lot, your head snapping up as you slid your purse onto your shoulder, “hey, Jamie.” You called as he approached, a smile etched onto his face. “You look great.” He grinned, looking over the dress you’d chosen, a casual dress, nearly maxi length with a light floral print. A Jean jacket over top. “Thank you.” You closed your car door as you spoke, “you look great too.” You complimented him, smiling as he offered his hand as you stepped up the curb. He shot you a toothy smile in response, opening the door to the restaurant, a cliche first date, but the effort he put in was very much appreciated. You couldn’t say in full honesty that you’d ever been taken on such a proper date, Jade’s father had really been your first true relationship, and it wasn’t the best at times. Or ever, really. “Two please.” Jamie spoke to the hostess, you had zoned out slightly, taking in the slightly eclectic look of the restaurant. Jamie pulled your seat out for you, only making you blush more. “Thank you.” You whispered as he took his seat across from you, “of course.” He smiled, picking his menu up, peering over it at you as you both browsed silently. You shifted a little nervously as you looked at some of the prices, Jamie glanced up at you, unsure if he should ask if you were alright. “So, what’s good here?” You asked, breaking the silence, he let out a laugh, setting the menu down. “Can I be honest?” He raised an eyebrow at you, your head falling into a cautious nod, “I’ve never been here before, some of the guys said I should take you here.” He looked a bit pink in his cheeks, you bit your lip to stifle back a laugh, “you know, Jamie, I’m perfectly fine with more of the typical burger and fries type of place.” You giggled, watching his smile falter, before it widened again, “let’s go.” He abruptly stood up, his chair making a noise in the quiet restaurant. He rushed you out the door, laughing the entire time as you looked at him in shock.

“We could’ve eaten here, I wasn’t trying to be–“ “Y/N, just live a little, I’d much rather go get a burger than whatever was on that menu.” He cut you off with a grin, “well,” you paused, fishing your keys out of your purse, “I do know a great little hole in the wall place a few blocks away.” You grinned at him, watching as he matched your look. “Shall we?” “We shall.”

“Thank you, Jamie, I had a great time.” You smiled up at him as you stood between your cars, he reciprocated the gesture, “so did I.” He mumbled, “we should do it again sometime.” He added, watching as you nodded slowly, easing his nerves significantly, “I’d like that, a lot.” You trailed off, meeting his eyes, you could tell that he saw the concern on your face. You hadn’t done this yet, since Jade, and now you weren’t sure how it would work. How long did you date before you introduced him as something other than just Jamie? What if you never made it that far? What– “Can I kiss you?” Jamie interrupted, chuckling when your jaw dropped for a moment, not expecting him to be so abrupt. You barely finished whispering a yes before his lips were on yours, his hands on either side of your face, you melted into them, your hands resting on his sides as you kissed him back. He let out a sigh of content as you pulled away, “yeah, we’re definitely going to have to do this again.” You mumbled, laughing along with him as he was caught off guard by your comment.

***

That was three months ago, somehow the two of you had been making it work in the middle of his busiest time of year, Christmas had just passed, and it was finally time to introduce him to Jade, properly, as your boyfriend, not just as the guy you’d met in the grocery store. “Where are we going?” Jade asked, holding your hand tightly as you walked with her through the tunnels that you quickly learned to maneuver, Jamie having you come to a couple of games so far, and insisting you come down afterwards. “You’ll see.” You assured her with a giggle, she bounced happily beside you, eyes going wide as she saw Jamie leaning against the wall, she’d seen him a couple of times, but totally oblivious to what was happening between the two of you.

“Jamie!” She shrieked, releasing your hand and running over to him, he easily squatted in front of her, smiling as she gave him a little hug. “Hey, Jade.” He murmured, glancing up at you as she began rambling about her day. “I like your shirt.” He told her when she finished, and she looked down to the stars jersey you’d slipped her in to, the same plain one your dad had gotten her, you on the other hand, had on your Benn jersey. Something Jamie had insisted on the second you two decided this was a serious committed relationship. “It’s just like the one you wear!” She told him, as if he didn’t already know. “Wow, that’s crazy.” He gasped, looking at it closely, as if it was new information, she laughed girlishly at him. “Jade?” You questioned, kneeling beside Jamie, suddenly terrified that your three year old would shame your relationship. “Jamie and I are dating, so you know what that means?” You asked her, Jamie glancing between the two of you. Jade tilted her head to the side, “that means you love him.” She answered, as if that was the correct answer, you smiled at your daughter, glancing over to Jamie, you hadn’t said it to him yet, but you were certain that you were in love with him. He stayed silent, but the grin on his face told you everything you needed. “Does that mean we’ll live together? Like you and daddy used too?” Jade gasped, suddenly excited at the idea. This time you were the one who stared and Jamie spoke, easing any nerves you had, “hopefully one day.” He assured her.

Jade was watching a quick video on your phone while you spoke to Jamie before the game, “I think that went well.” He shrugged, not really as concerned as you had been. “It did.” You sighed, hugging him quickly, knowing he had to get going, “Jamie.” You got his attention, cupping his jaw and leaning up to kiss him. “I love you.” You whispered, slowly stepping away from him, “I love you.” He grinned, “gonna play great now that I know that.” He shot you a wink, before going on to score two goals that night, one of them being the game winner.

Taglist: @vinceduhn @makarsy @kempe @literarycharleton @josty @mrs-ana-wayne @kiedhara

#Jamie benn #imagine #imagines #Jamie benn fic #Jamie benn imagine #Jamie benn blurb #Dallas stars

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darkmindsotome · 3 years

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Soap and Sun

Title: Soap and Sun

Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss

Pairing: Yazuru Shiba x MC

Word count: 3,464

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Summary: When a long awaited date threatens to derail under the summer sun a spur of the moment idea triggers an even steamer time together than planned.

Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #9: Car Wash Featuring the MC/LI as the Sponge

---

When I thought of summer in London, I hadn’t thought of much else other than spending some quality time with my boyfriend.

He’d been playing the part of visiting lecturer at his old alma mater, Oxford University. His curriculum was well thought out and methodical, just like the man himself. Every time I was been able to catch one it was like attending a sell-out concert. I was always blown away by how he could turn a baffling topic into something easier to understand. In the end, you were never left feeling like you were stupid and it was amazing to watch him in his element. A true genius craftsman with genuine love and passion for his work.

Still, I would have liked to have seen him a bit more than I currently was. Silently chastising myself for the selfishness of that thought I tried to push it aside. I was once more in England and as per our agreement, we were on a date. That alone was enough to re-energise me.

It wasn’t much but we had decided to go for a drive in one of his cherished Bugattis. The sleek lines of it cut through the English countryside like a hot knife through butter. This was the kind of escape he liked. It wasn’t any more rushed than he wanted it to be. Just him, the open road, and his car. I watched with relief from the passenger seat as I could see the layers of stress and fatigue melt away from him.

“Are you sure this is all you wanted to do?” He had his usual blank poker face on as he asked. The only thing giving away how sceptical he was, was his tone.

“Yeah. I enjoy spending time with you Yuzu. I don’t really mind what we are doing as long as we can be together.” The answer came quickly to me and I enjoyed the brief moment where I could see his stoic mask slip and get a glimpse under it.

“You can be very direct at times.” He sighed.

“Does it bother you?” I didn’t candy coat things when talking to him. I had tried that when were first became an item and found out the hard way that subtle approaches would not be to anyone’s benefit in this relationship.

“No.” There was a faint smile on his face whether he was aware of it or not.

A comfortable silence fell over the interior of the car as it twisted and turned down roads that were becoming increasingly more rural and isolated.

“Where are we going anyway?” I decided to break the silence and ask as it had been about twenty minutes now and there was still no clue as to where Yuzu had planned on taking me. When I suggested just going for a drive and he had agreed, I thought he would have a destination in mind, not just aimlessly driving around the rural backroads of England for the afternoon.

“You’ll see when we get there.” I watched his dashing profile my eyes naturally falling to the strong hands the gripped the leather wheel. Those slightly rough calloused fingers I adored and missed so much, flexing against the wheel I was suddenly jealous of. Averting my eyes back to the passing scenery I tried to push away the ideas that would send me into dangerous waters.

Tall old trees lit up with the sun produced a mottled canopy of light as Yuzuru expertly drove his car through a nearly completely hidden entrance from the main road onto a small dirt track. For a car not designed to be an off-roader, the ride was still smooth. I found myself wondering if that was a testament to the Italian engineering or his driving. A smile came naturally to my face and I couldn’t stop it. Before I met Yuzuru the idea of engineering, cars, driving… any of it would have been far from my mind. Now the ideas came to me easily. He really had changed me.

“What is it? You have a grin on your face.” He frowned.

“Am I not allowed to be happy when I’m with you.” I teased watching as his expression relaxed once more.

“As long as it’s only with me. We’re here.”

He stopped the car in a clearing that was right next to the three S’s old school hideout. The shabby little cottage stood there in the overgrown garden looking like something from a fairytale. It was just as I remembered it the first time I saw it with him.

“What happened to ‘no girls allowed'?” I couldn’t help but ask, surprised by his choice of destination.

“You would rather go somewhere else?” He still had the keys to the car in one hand and the handle of the door in the other. He was looking at me with those dark eyes scanning me like code on a screen.

“No, it’s just why here?” I didn’t really have a location for our date in mind I had decided to leave it up to him. That didn’t mean I wasn’t a little shocked by his choice.

“I wanted to show you something. You remember that old failed power supply?” His hand fell from the door allowing it to partly close on us both in the vehicle.

“The hyrdo—” I started to answer only to be cut off.

“Hydraulic turbine.” For some reason, he looked bashful. A man who didn’t show much emotion was looking at me with a faint blush making my heart skip in my chest. “I got it working and I thought- I wanted you to be the first to see it.”

“Really?!” I was stunned.

“I’ve never known someone to get so happy over such things.” He chuckled.

I had assumed he would be showing his success to his two best friends before me. I was perhaps a little too excited to find something where I topped the list of people ahead of Kazuomi or Kei when it came to Yuzuru and his work.

“You’re one to talk Mr Space Screws.” I tried to distract from my over the top reaction by childishly reminding him of when he got so passionately attached to something it nearly ruined a date.

“True. Come on it's over here.” My childish retort didn’t work. He didn’t react to it at all and simply nodded accepting what I said as the facts they were and exited the car leaving me to scramble behind him to catch up.

A small waterway near the rear of the cottage was sparkling in the sunlight. The fresh clear water was turning the fossil-like shell structure I had seen on my last visit. Watching it spinning it looked even more amazing than before.

What once could have been little more than a garden sculpture was now functioning. Scooping up water and cascading it between its two halves speeding it up and pushing it out in a strong even flow.

“I can’t believe you got it to work.” I was mesmerised watching the two halves turning the craftsmanship of the original I had seen had been adjusted to something more streamlined and very much in keeping with the minimalist nature of its creator.

“It wasn’t easy. The stream here isn’t very large so I had to calculate the flow rate and adjust the design to accommodate it. Amping up the flow inside the device allows for more energy to be produced and stored so power is produced. Then there was customising the old generator for the cottage to take the charge and convert it for use.” He was explaining and becoming the animated Yuzu I remembered. He was a man typically of few words but give him a topic he loved then his passion would allow him to ramble on for hours.

“It’s wonderful.” The words barely left my mouth before the spinning shells in front of us gave an ear-piercing shriek and ground to a halt. “What happened?”

“I think one of the bolts might have slipped its casing. Or maybe…” Yuzuru was already moving from my side towards his creation before pausing to look back at me his posture slumping as he mentally chastised himself for losing focus on our date. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s fine. You want me to go make a cup of coffee while you figure it out?”

With my reassurance that I accepted his desire to correct the problem he nodded and fell silent. It might not be how I wanted the day to play out but this was the man I loved and it wasn’t like we weren’t together. Draping his jacket over a nearby branch as he bent over his invention inspecting it.

His passion came with an extreme immersive focus. It was one of the things I found endearing about him. How he showed me glimpses of himself where his guard dropped. This was Yuzu in his element. The kid in the candy store. I went inside the cottage removing the door key from its hiding spot under a planter.

Time ticked by the hours of the sun passing with every stroke of the hand on the clock. It might be a part of him I was used to by now but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t a little bored. Exercising to kill time in this heat was not my idea of fun. Still, my body felt kind of itchy wanting to move. I was washing up the cups when my eyes fell on the Bugatti parked outside and I had an idea.

Yuzuru normally paid a valet to clean it. Maintaining its showroom condition was something of a source of pride to him as an owner. It couldn’t hurt to give it a little wipe down myself right? I could get rid of the dust on it and cool off in the process.

The lukewarm water swayed in the bucket as I carried it outside. I had found a new sponge and even some car shampoo in a cupboard. It was several years old but it was going to be better than trying to use dish soap.

I hooked my hair up high at the back and pinned it there with a couple of chopsticks I found in a draw in the kitchen. I’d already abandoned my dress in favour of a pair of shorts and a t-shirt I found in Yuzu’s old bedroom. I had to pull the drawstring at the waist to get the shorts to fit and the shirt was massive. Rolling the hem, I knotted it at the back turning it into a makeshift crop top. Happy with the adjustments to my wardrobe I plunged my hands into the bucket and got to work.

The soap lathered quickly oozing between my fingers as I squished the sponge and carried it over to the car.

It took some time but the turbine was once more turning freely and working. He frowned as he looked at his watch, thankful for its water resistance and realising how much time had passed. This was supposed to be a date and here he was once more lost in his own world. As he walked back to the cottage, he only hoped Mc hadn’t gotten so bored with him that she’d left.

Musing over the fact that he wouldn’t blame her if that was the case he stumbled upon a rare sight and his heart skipped such a beat it felt like it had landed in his throat. Mc dressed in his old school gym gear, his car and one of the most dazzling impromptu foam parties he’d ever thank a God for providing.

For all the fact it wasn’t the first time I’d ever washed a car before I still forgot how hard it was to reach all the parts of the roof. No matter how hard I stretched I kept coming in contact with the side of the wet soapy Bugatti and not actually reaching the missing points on the roof with my outstretched hand and sponge.

It wasn’t until a hand enveloped mine taking the sponge from it that I even noticed Yuzu was back.

“What are you doing?” His question felt absurd so I decided to joke.

“Hunting elephants.” I tried to turn only to find myself pinned to the side of the car by him. His tall frame easily overpowering me. “I’ll ask you the same what are you doing?”

“I thought you were trying to tempt me. I’m just playing along.” His mouth was hovering near my ear and the grip on my hip was flexing like his hands had done before on the steering wheel. Large strong hands began kneading at my body like it was pasta dough.

Shamelessly I went limp against him. The weather was too hot for me to bother thinking of fighting back as usual. Our little games of cat and mouse we both enjoyed was a distant idea for another day. I let his hand travel further round to the ties at my waist, those skilled fingers loosening the shorts with ease.

All the time I remained “helplessly” pinned to the car by his body and his other hand sliding up my arm and pulling the chopsticks from my hair letting it tumble free.

“So compliant. That’s not like you at all.” He gave a dark chuckle that sent a chill down my spine. I couldn’t let that go and turned to give him a piece of my mind.

“I’ll have you know I--” Words died the instant I met that dry ice gaze. His dark eyes were an inky black reflecting only me and all hope I had of putting up a front with him melted in that passionate heat.

“You what?” He held me frozen in place that smirk on his lips felt very like him at a time like this. Yuzu always became a tease when things were taking a steamy turn. “You know you missed several spots?”

He pulled back his heat leaving me feeling the cool, dampness of the clothes I was standing in. I felt my body betray me with a whimper I barely silenced.

“I can’t reach all of it.” I knew I was pouting but right now this had been the closest contact we had had in a while and I was far from wanting to play coy. “Can you help me?”

Holding out the sponge to him I gave it a squeeze letting the suds run across my skin and smiled watching his adam’s apple bob under that thin infuriating turtleneck of his. Without a word he pulled his top off exposing that mass of well-toned muscle and lean physique, he worked hard to maintain with his demanding job. It was my turn for my throat to go dry as he took the sponge and loaded it with soapy water from the bucket.

“Come here.” His command had me moving automatically and I watched him slap the wet sponge on the bonnet of the car. “Take it.” I did as I was told only to feel my body pulled back by my hips. “I said take it.”

“I’m trying but you’re not helping.” My complaint was indignant but still playful. His hands were running over my thighs delving into the fabric of the shorts from below pushing them higher exposing more of my legs to the world.

“I can’t help until I see where you need my help.” His breath was like a vapour at this point. His body was burning up and I could feel the pressure of his desire against me. My grip on the sponge grew limp all I wanted was to be with him now the car be damned. “What giving up before the job is done? That isn’t like you.”

“Mmm, Yuzu.” I ignored how in control he was and was willing to blame the heat of the day for the fire swelling inside me and how I rubbed my ass purposely against him. It was an invitation he was all too willing to answer.

In a flash, my arms were pushed high over my head the water of the sponge ran in a river over the bonnet soaking through my shirt between my breasts. His hands removed the shorts and underwear in one fast motion like he was removing a band-aid. Even with the lack of breeze outside, I shuddered at the exposure.

With one hand reaching down to burry his fingers inside me he used the other to reach up over me taking the sponge and pushing it around me. The wet sounds from me and the squelch of the sponge in my ears had me squirming under him. The different places the water touched on my skin felt like he was running his tongue all over me and I arched my body into his firm chest as he covered me.

“I don’t think this is going to cut it.” He denounced the sponge. holding it high over my back and squeezing it dry over my exposed skin before tossing it from the car and flipped me over. My body felt limp in the heat but I managed to remove the painful knot of the wet fabric at my back and hitch myself up a little higher on the car so I was at a better angle.

He let out an appreciative guttural moan that sounded far more animalistic than usual.

“You like cleaning the car then huh?” I teased with what was left of my composure.

Yuzu moved to between my thighs soundlessly and dragged his hot tongue in a long slow swipe through my folds. I tilted my head back blinded by the bright sun and in total disbelief that we were even doing this. When had I become so into sex that this was my life? Did I care? I glanced down and was met with his eyes staring at me from over my pubic mound. He sucked on that bundle of nerves and gave me a little nip on the inside of my thigh.

“What are you thinking?” He asked as he played with his fingers inside me. Scissoring them moving both fast and slow.

“Y-you. I was t-t-thinking about you Yuzu.”

My reply had him smiling and he then removed his hand and grabbed both my ankles dragging me down the slippery metal towards him.

“You know one of the best things about cleaning a car?” I was stunned speechless. There was something devilish about him that I didn’t see often. He was always passionate with an endless sex drive but this was new. He leaned over me his face in front of mine blocking out the sun making it hard to see him. “It’s the getting it dirty to start with.”

Before my eyes could adjust to see him clearly I felt a familiar suffocating pressure from below as he filled me up with his length. With every roll of his hips, it had me bouncing against the bonnet. The water trapped under me foamed with the fabric of my shirt and moved me around in unpredictable ways. The even rhythm from him coupled with my body's unrulily movements thanks to the lubrication of the soap on the car had me reaching the edge faster than normal.

“Ah! Yuzu… I … I’m so close.”

He seemed to speed up and target all the parts of my body he knew I liked. Thanks to the clinging shirt, my nipples were clearly visible and found their way into his mouth where he nipped at them with his teeth. He used his mouth to cover the exposed patches of my torso playing a game of hide and seek with the wet fabric driving my mind further to oblivion.

Right when I thought I was going to reach my limit, he stopped. He left himself inside me but refused to move. I mewed and looked up at him. He was panting, sweat dripping over him. I tried to move my own hips to get more but he just remained still looking at me.

“Yuzu?” I was confused. Why had he stopped?

“I love you Mc.” His confession was quiet but touched my heart as clearly as if he had screamed it.

“I love you too Yuzu.”

“I know.” He picked up the movement as if he had never stopped. The devilish smile on his face replaced by an erotic pleasure mask that had my own heart soaring.

Under the summer sky in an isolated part of the English countryside, we connected over and over again. Our cries and moans melting into the nature surrounding us. Our love and passion driving us forward burning hotter than the sun long after it had set.

---

#summer of smut #summer of smut content creation challenge

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

Text

Horror Villains / Misc x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You accidentally summon Beetlejuice because he convinced you that he could help you with your Slasher problem, but he becomes an even worse problem. So, you need your Slasher to help you exterminate him, instead.

Includes: Chucky / Charles Lee Ray and Freddy Krueger

Warnings: It’s got nasty gremlin man in it (Meaning, gross language, dirty jokes and such), and also Slashers (Meaning, gore, swearing, course and suggestive language). Groping (Himself)

Notes:

Okay, those of you who were with me at MainstreamBaddies; You remember that post I wrote about some rando killer trying to get the reader, so reader goes to the Slasher that’s also trying to kill them for help?

Well this is basically that but with (Movie) Beetlejuice as the rando.

THERE WAS MEANT TO BE MORE CHARACTERS!! But its late and I wanna slep ^^ Hopefully I’ll do Ghostface and Jason tomorrow!

~~~

THE START / ‘Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice’

“So… “Worrying my bottom lip, I look from the wall where I can think properly to the small, ‘fun size’ version of ‘Beetlejuice’ who’s looking expectantly at me. Excited even.

Although I guess that’s a given. If I was that small and had the possibility sitting right in front of me, of growing back to full size, and full power again, I’d be jazzed too. But, still, there’s something very off about this guy, and it isn’t just the fact that he’s the size of maybe 2 thumbs snapped off at the knuckle and taped one on top of the other. He’s very enthusiastic.

In a Gollum-Swamp Monster-Chick Hicks kind of way.

“’So’, what? I don’t have all day baaaaaay – well, I do have all day. I got nowhere to be – not many fun joints for a guy to go to at this size, amiright? Yeah, but, that’s not the point! Do you wanna get rida’ your lil’ problem or not? Eh?” Beetlejuice is practically vibrating, like an alarm clock and I have the most impulsive urge to call his name three times just to stop it.

Luckily, I have impulse control.

“Of course, I do. I… “Eyeing him pointedly, I start wringing my hands. “I just don’t want to create a new problem, in its place.”

He rolls his dark, feral racoon-panda eyes, muttering something lightning quick to himself before throwing out his arms and yelling. “BABE! I promise ya, really, sweetheart. Baby-lemon pie-dumpling-doll-dollar-sugar-tea, I’m just gonna fix your problem! All I want in the world right now is t’ cum-plete our deal! Get rida’ your Slasher, and be on my way! Unless theirs somethin’ else you ask of me, eh? When I’m back to my normal size? You know, I’m big in all the right places sugar tit- “

I took a deep, necessary breath in when he started on the ‘something else’ and now have the required breath to drown out the last words. “Oooookay!! I wont need that.” I say quickly, as a statement. He licks his lips. “But, um… Are you sure you can get rid of them?” ‘Them’. The bane of my existence right now. The co-star in the horror movie of my life. That them.

“Trust me, babe-sickle. It’ll be sinch.” For a moment, he looks absolutely calm. No vibrating, no yelling, no talking really fast. And it hits its intended mark – my assurances. Okay.

“Alright.” I wring my hands one last time, then clap them and step back from the town diorama that Beetlejuice is roaming in. I cross my arms, then drop them to my sides and look around, then finally back at the impatient ghost… who’s doing squats. Good grief, how much energy is in this guy? “Beetlejuice.”

He gasps, jumps up to his feet, nearly falling over because his weight landed wrong and then rubs his hands together. “Here we go!”

“Beetlejuice.”

“Oh. You do it right, babe.”

Oh my god, here we go. Hopefully this can’t make my situation any worse- I mean, I am being targeted by a killer. What are the odds that this goofball of a ghost could ruin my life anymore? “Beetlejuice.”

“PRESTO!”

Human! Chucky / Charles Lee Ray – Chucky’s POV:

I figure this is going to be a pain, when a screech tears from the ugly old house before I even get in. Confused, and more then frustrated because this spells out nothing but problems for me for when I get in, instead of the nice peaceful kill I was intending to enjoy, I open the screen door -bitch didn’t even lock the front door, it’s like she wants me to kill her,- and rush up the stairs to where the sound came from. “Hold on, I’m not there yet!!”

What the hell is going on?!

“Look, in my professional experience, the screamin’ doesn’t start til the killer takes out a knife, sometimes even before but not before I even get into the house, lady. The audacity of you, here- “

What am I looking at here?

In front of my eyes, my fucking eyes, stands of course Y/N, my victim. And some kind of zebra - one that’s been dead and left out in the swamp for a fuck-long time. He’s got crazy eyes if I’ve ever seen them, and have you seen mine? That’s saying something. Who is this joker? In my coat, I grip the gun I keep just in case strangulation goes awry, but don’t bring it out just yet. Not until this guy reveals his cards, first.

The guy’s eyes flicker in smug amusement from my face, to my gun pocket -evidently, he realises something’s up. Can’t blame the guy, damnit, -, then whips right around, leaving his back wide open for me and my weapon, to my facepalming victim. I smirk at her. “I take it that’s the guy you want rid of, toots?”

“Uh… yeah… “She looks adorable and awkward. The guy lets go of her waist, which he was holding close to his body as she leaned away before, when I walked in and he literally, and I’ve never seen any person do this before, halted in his tracks. Stopped breathing, stopped shifting, it even seemed like the history around him stopped for that ‘caught’ moment. And I swear I heard the sound of record music abruptly being turned off come from his mouth.

And for some odd reason, I get the feeling he’s not human. Can’t conjure a reason why, though.

I should be saying this shit out loud, I’m wasted on myself.

Figuring this guy’s been hired to get rid of me, I take out my gun. “Okay, you’re gonna have to catch me up on what’s happening... Oh, no? Well, okay.”

BAM!

A bullet flies across the room and sticks into the freak’s chest, and that is the end of things going my way.

Because the force of the bullet somehow sends him slamming across the room and through a wall in the back. His body goes ‘poot’ down two stories outside and theirs a silence that doesn’t last long enough for either Y/N or I to digest what just fucking happened before the bastard’s grotty fucking hand spiders up my spine from behind. I wriggle out of his reach immediately on impact, because it’s like a real fucking spider, and whip around, waiving my gun- which is useless now, of course.

Games are over.

The guy looks over at Y/N and grins, throwing his arms out in a ‘ta da!’ way. She winces and just narrows her eyes in a glare. “What’d you think of that, sweet cheeks? I got a flare for the dramatic, you know? Ssssexy! Eh?” When she sticks her tongue out at him, for lack of any words to respond to that with I guess -I mean, I, can think of some choice words for the guy, but she’s clearly not as creatively gifted in the art of insult as I have been told I am. But, a tongue out works, - he grins the most fucking horny grin I’ve ever seen and clutches his sack. Her jaw drops.

“Where the ever-loving fuck did you pick crazy pants up from??” I ask, looking accusingly at Y/N. She chews on the inside of her cheeks and looks even more awkward then before.

“Truce?” She asks, instead of answering my question. I’m genuinely curious.

I roll my eyes. “Ughh, fine.”

“Oh well that won’t do,” The guy speaks up again, looking between us and letting his Johnson go, thank god. The boys have to breath! “Baby girl, blossom, light of my FUCKING DEATH! You wound me. riGHT IN THE HEART! Let me show you, sweetgums, why that was a bad idea.”

Her eyes widen, and I suddenly feel real unsafe. “How about you don’t- “

“Watch this!”

He turns to me, makes some overdramatic hand gestures, throwing his back out in the process and momentarily acting like he’s out of order.

Then he whips back into action and shoots me with finger guns,

And then suddenly everything around me looks 4 times bigger then before. Oh, well, its that or… I’m closer to the ground.

Because I’m a fucking doll again.

I slowly look up from the little black baby shoes and the edges of the godamn jean jumpsuit, to the infected condom in black and white grease paint. “… You son-of-a-bitch.”

He chuckles and turns to Y/N, and gives her finger guns too, but the only other thing that happens this time is he winks at her. “Now, baby! Time to get hitched!”

“What?!” She shrieks.

Freddy Krueger – Freddy’s POV:

“I’m going to die of boredom before this bitch catches winks. I’m gonna pummel her with the counting sheep she clearly needs when she gets here.” The corners of my mouth lift up from the deep scowl I was wearing before, at the idea. It has merit.

Behind me the fine folks of Pompeii run for their lives and a red and green striped Vesuvius explodes molten lava over their little town when I remember it’s been 2 days since she’s fallen asleep. Or found some fucking Hypnocil. Or killed herself. Who knows, really. I have a… deadly effect on women.

But damn, it would be a bummer if she killed herself. I was having fun with her. I had plans.

Have, have. I have plans. I won’t give up hope yet.

An hour, or who knows how long later -time is a human construct and doesn’t exist in the dream plain, - , I’m lying on the ground watching Psycho play in the sky when that familiar tingle rushes through me, telling me someone’s entered my world.

I’m just getting up and brushing myself off, taking my damn time like she left me to wait -besides, I can turn back time and make it seem like I appeared instantaneously if I want to. Time’s a construct, remember? And this is my world. I’m just doing this for me, to make me feel better, - when she comes out of fucking nowhere and nearly knocks me over. Im-ee-diate-ly I open my mouth to ask her why she’s so eager, but she beats me to the punch, causing me sadness.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

Hold on, I definitely think there’s something off here. Don’t I make the fucking demands?! “Bitch- ”

“Wake!”

“-I haven’t done anything to you yet.”

“Up!”

“Goddamn!”

What is going on here!?

“I’ll do anything you want, just please. Wake me up!” Her eyes are deadly serious, and I can’t help the greedy smile I get at her submissive idea. What could have made her this way? I laugh.

“Ohhh, I’ll think it over. Tempting offer, though~” She lets out a growl and let’s go of me in pure frustration, looks around quickly for something and then lays eyes on my glove. She picks it up, and my eyes widen in surprise at what she does next.

The blade slices through the skin in her upper arm before I can take any control of the situation, and a nauseous feeling suddenly rolls me and she whimpers from the pain of slicing herself open, as the world goes blurry around us and she wakes up- of course, still holding my glove, which is attached to me, so I go with her.

“Fucking he- “

Much quicker than you think it will be, we both turn up back in the fucking reality. She hops up immediately and flies across the room to a first aid box.

I’m just assuming, I mean. Because I don’t make any move to leave the bed at all and just close my eyes and groan, and resist the urge to cry.

I hate this placceeeeeeeeee.

“BABES, YOU’RE BACK!”

Now I resist the urge to scream and phase out of existence, because a man just appeared on the bed with me and called me his babes. Instead, I slowly turn my head to him and sinisterly narrow my eyes- and hope he doesn’t notice my distress from a second ago.

I’m starting to understand why Y/N was so intent on getting back here. If this guy, a dung beetle with… oh, god. Clearly, some kind of terrible illness if that smell indicates anything, was hanging around me while I slept, I’d be… slightly bothered too. If only for the stink!

He squints, and while he does, his hair flickers through the various colours in the rainbow, confused. “Sweetbottom, theirs something different about you. Did you get contacts?”

As a knee jerk reaction, I stab him in the gut with my blades. “Stranger danger, bitch!”

My panic dissolves into glee as I jerk the knives upwards… just to turn back into panic when he starts tearing all the way in half from my stab wound up to the top of his head with minimal effort from me. I gulp, and retreat from him to where Y/N is, taping her bandages securely around her arm. I gesture to the freak who’s padded onto the floor and is zipping himself back together in front of my eyeballs. “… the fuck is that?”

“That’s Beetlejuice, he’s a ghost=

“With the most, baby.” ‘Beetlejuice’ stands up straight and rests his hands on his hips, chest puffed out and winks at Y/N.

“-What do we do?” She asks, looking with wide eyes at me.

What does she think I am? The Fairy Godmother of the dead?? I’m no godmoth-

… I could use this. A slow grin spreads across my mouth. “First, you go over there and distract him.”

For a split second she looks like she’s actually going to go with it, then looks with furrowed, unimpressed eyebrows at me. ‘Beetlejuice’ makes grabby hands at us, and she starts to look more panicked by the second. “And what will you do??”

I yank the bedroom door open. “Run!!”

#Keatlejuice #Beetlejuice #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Freddy Krueger #Drabbles #Scenarios #Part 1 #Horror / Misc Drabbles || Part 1 #Beetlejuice x Reader #Keatlejuice x Reader #Chucky x Reader #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader

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jaeminlore · 5 years

Text

Amor Libertatis | Mark

summary: the freedom of love.

words: 12.4k+

category: fisherman!mark x princess!reader, FLUFF, angst, a lot of wordbuilding i got carried away

warning(s): death mention, war mention, blood mention, mark smells like fish, repetitive writing

a/n: alternate title is The Multiple Confessions of Two Dumbasses Who Don’t Get It™️

The ballroom is a grand flourish of shiny hardwood floors and high ceilings. The firelight of the chandeliers reflects off of blue quartz stones, sending a blue haze around the room. White roses hang from the doors, leaving every guest with a shoulder of rose petals by the time they enter the room.

It's genuinely beautiful, and it seems to put the staff of the palace in good spirits. The cooks set out fluffy miguelitos and bubbly rosé cava over cream-colored doilies. The servants fake-fight with the leftover rose stems, shrieking in laughter when one of them gets pricked.

The guests will be here any moment. You, as part of your coronation celebration, invited every fisherman and sailor in the kingdom for a night of repose. Though many of your noble friends were apprehensive about it, you have found favor with the staff, and together, you worked out a special night for the main exporters of your kingdom.

The royal band is rehearsing in the corner; the sound of a bandurria tuning echoes throughout the room. Someone plays a sour note on their guitar, and it sparks a jolt of laughter throughout the room.

The tall windows are unlatched and open wide, sending the sound of waves crashing and fishermen shouting up into the cliffside castle.

You feel elated, amazed at the joy that runs throughout the room. Looking out the window, you can see a bunch of fishermen bringing their boats into the harbor. The men are joking around and laughing, and you can't help but selfishly think they're all excited for tonight.

"Anna," you call one of the servants over.

She slips her arm around yours and peers out of the window with you. "They look happy."

"Yes," you say, following the form of one small child as he races up and down the docks. "Has the transportation been set out for the families? With outfits from the measurements we took?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Anna sounds almost as excited as you. "By tonight, we'll have a ballroom full of families. The entire west wing has been cleared for the children to sleep in as well, should the parents drink too much calent."

You giggle at her words. "Yes, that's very smart. Remind me to thank the nannies for all they're preparing for the children. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

Anne sighs wistfully, eyes locked on the faraway docks. "Do you think any fishermen our age will come by?"

"Are you on the lookout for a husband, Anne?" You quip with a remarked stare.

The girl elbows you gently. She lifts her nose into the air indignantly. "I'm of age. It's proper."

"Oh, it's proper alright," you giggle, hastily avoiding Anne's next, not-as-gentle elbowing to the side.

The castle looms over the docks like an ominous shadow. Mark peers up at it, wondering why on earth any fisherman would feel welcome there. "We're going to stand out like sore thumbs."

"It's for us, you buzzkill," Jaehyun shoves an empty bucket into Mark's arms. "Take this to the lower deck."

Mark can't help but wonder if Jaehyun ever thinks about how bad they smell. He wonders how many royals will be at this ball, and he wonders how many will laugh at him. He ignores Jaehyun's instructions. "Do you think it's a set up?"

Jaehyun sighs and uses the bottom of his already-dirty shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He's obviously tired of Mark's worrying, but he'll never say it out loud. "I think the princess is doing her best to make allies after what the last monarchs pulled."

Mark still remembers it: the day many fishermen were taken from their homes and forced to fight a war that wasn't theirs. They became a navy of untrained soldiers against pirates and merchants with no morale and a lot of weapons. He remembers the last day he ever saw his father and brother. He remembers wanting to fight, too, but being too young. He remembers becoming a fisherman as young as ten years old, because he had to provide for his grieving mother. Then she couldn't handle it any more, and he had to attend a funeral for three people instead of two.

He remembers that no one ever let him grieve, and the castle feels ominous all over again. "I don't know if I'm going to go."

"Aren't you curious?" Jaehyun asks. "Don't you want to see if the princess is going to apologize? Or if she's just as fake as her parents before her?"

Mark wonders if the princess ever got to mourn.

"I don't know if I want to find out," Mark admits. He adjusts the heavy bucket and goes to do the job he is getting paid to do. He turns to shout over his shoulder, "But if you go, bring me back some castle food!"

Mark, of all people, knows what it feels like to be alone. He must be the only fisherman not excited about the party, and it's not all for shallow reasons. Mostly, he's the only one without a family to take.

He thinks of Jaehyun, bringing his brothers, and Kun, bringing his family — a wife and two daughters. He thinks of Lucas' little son, who can't stop talking about the outfit he was measured for.

There is such joy in sharing with others, and Mark knows he'll feel extremely alone if he goes. He'll just burden all of his friends, who want to be with their families.

He checks all of the boats and makes sure they're secure at the harbor. The night is warm and windy. The party is surely starting soon, or perhaps it has already started.

He looks up at the castle. Light pours from the large windows. If he listens close enough, he can hear the sound of music and laughing.

He wants to climb on a boat and sail away for the night, just to forget all of it.

"Are you not going to join the festivities?"

Mark jumps at the noise. He turns around and sees a girl, dressed in turquoise-colored silk. There's a split down each side, so that when she walks, Mark notices the knee-length sandals. That's normally a tell that someone is royal, but then again, he wonders if the princess gave everyone royal-grade clothing. He wouldn't know.

He realizes he hasn't answered. He's just been staring for an odd amount of time. "Er, no. I'm not exactly a dancer," he lies, thinking it's easier than belting out his own personal sob story.

"I can't either," the girl says. She gives him a bright smile. "Something I think that makes dancing more fun."

Mark shrugs. He feels warm, but he brushes it off as the mugginess of the night. "I have to secure the boats, and I smell like fish."

"The entire ballroom smells like fish," she says, and Mark thinks for a moment that she's being insulting. Then, he receives another bright smile. "It's wonderful! It feels like we're right on the docks, dancing and laughing. One of the lovely fishermen is teaching my– er– the ladies about sea shanties. They're rather dirty in verse, but it's fun to sing them! I'm sure we'll be hearing the words down the corridors for weeks to come."

She says everything nearly out of breath. Her cheeks are red, and she seems to always be on the verge of a laugh. Every word that comes out of her mouth seems spoken in prose, so much so that Mark wonders how anyone could find life so rewarding.

"I suppose you're a noble, then," he says.

"I am."

Mark risks another look at her face (though he had never actually looked away) and notices her hair is gathered into a braid. It cascades down her chest and ends with a seashell clipped to the bottom. Her eyes reflect the moonlight.

He feels self conscious all of a sudden. "Well, have fun then."

"Won't you come?"

Mark stills the moment her hand comes into contact with his. She's close now, clasping his hand like it will change his mind. Maybe it will.

"I don't really belong there."

"Everyone belongs," she says sternly, eyes suddenly hard. "I won't let anyone tell you different. This ball is about coming together as equals and apologizing for past grievances. This is a new start. You should be a part of it."

Mark isn't sure why, but he lets her pull him all the way up the cliffs, straight into the castle.

The boy does look out of place, you notice. "Here, let's get you into some regal clothing."

You desperately hope he doesn't ask what type of noble you are, because you would really hate to lose the trust of this young fishermen you've found. Something about his hesitance makes you think he wouldn't want to meet the princess. He wouldn't want to meet you.

You bring him into one of the spare rooms and leaf through the wardrobe. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Uh. Mark."

You toss a black shirt and trousers at him. "Change into these, Mark. Behind that screen."

The top of his head can be seen over the screen, so you focus on his black locks while you wait. "My name is Y/n. It's a pretty common name, I know."

"I haven't heard it before," Mark comments, struggling with a piece of clothing.

When he comes out from behind the screen, his shirt is tucked in and rolled up the fisherman way. You find it adorable, because it's how every man showed up this evening. Still, you can't help but want to see what Mark would look like dressed as a noble.

You approach him and pull his sleeves down, clipping the seashell cufflinks where they belong. Then, you grab a turquoise cummerbund and wrap it around the black attire, tying it in the back so that it's the only pop of color on his body.

You step back and look at him. "Very handsome. Oh! I'll get some oils so you don't feel self-conscious about your smell."

He doesn't smell that bad. Honestly, it's obvious that a fisherman would smell a little funny: it's part of the job. So it's nothing to make fun of, really.

Still, you find some lavender and lemon scented oils in the vanity and sprinkle them onto his shoulder and neck. "Now don't rub it in. Just let it set."

Mark still looks out of place. Not in appearance, he just has this look on his face that says "I don't want to be here."

"I promise you'll have a nice time," you say. "And if not, we can sneak out a jug of cante and get out of here, yeah?"

Mark's face softens with relief and he smiles. "Okay."

"Great! Now let's go!" You grab his hand and pull him down the hallway, into the grand ballroom.

Mark lets out an audible gasp of surprise at the decorations, and the people. "It's... It's really nice."

"Thank you," you say. "It took forever to plan."

"You planned it?" Mark asks, eyeing you confusedly.

The base of your neck feels hot. "I helped, I mean. It's impossible for one person to plan a grand display like this."

"Right. Oh, there's Jaehyun." Mark points to the tall man talking to Anne. "He's my friend."

"He's talking to my friend, Anne. We should go talk to them!"

Jaehyun looks surprised to see Mark at the party. He looks even more surprised to see his hand in yours. "You work fast, don't you, Mark?"

Mark jerks his hand out of your grip. "She uh, she was just helping me find something to wear."

Anne eyes you. "Was she? Were you given no clothes?"

"I found him on the docks," you say quickly, trying to telepathically talk to Anne with your eyes. "I thought he might like to join us."

"I tried to get him to come along," Jaehyun says, smiling. His smile is sweet, soft like fluffy icing. "If I had known all I needed was a pretty girl to convince him, I would've done it sooner."

"Ah, it wasn't like that," Mark says. He fiddles with the cummerbund, hooking his thumb under the seam and running the pad across. "She just said you guys were having fun. So I thought I would try it."

Jaehyun looks like he wants to say more, but he hides his smile behind a gulp of rosé.

Anne greets Mark. "Is it just you?"

Mark bristles. "Yeah," he says, a warning laced in his voice. "For a long time now."

"No wife?" Anne presses, and you notice Mark keeps tensing.

"Anne, that's enough," you say. "I'm going to show Mark around."

You pull the reluctant boy over to the closest table of food and hand him a fluke of pink liquid. "I'm sorry about her. She doesn't mean to be as invasive as she is."

Mark downs the entire thing in one gulp and stares down at his shoes. "Yeah, it's fine. I just. You know, not all of our families survived the war."

Your heart softens, and your chest burns with the sort of empathy one gets when they've experienced grief. "From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. If my— if the king and queen had known what they were truly doing—"

"It shouldn't have even crossed their minds," Mark snaps, cutting a cold glare across the room. "Where is the princess anyway? Isn't she supposed to apologize for their mistakes tonight?"

Your voice feels watery in your throat. "She already did. That's how she opened the night."

"Huh," Mark furrows his brows. "What did she say?"

You swallow down your urge to get upset. He's only asking for closure. "She apologized for her parents' actions. Said she hopes to rule better than them, and never have to put the lower class in danger like that again. She reminded everyone that you are just as important as she is, and that you deserve the same rights as her — you should get to choose if you want to fight."

Mark looks torn. "Okay," he says, and drops the subject for the night.

Mark goes home pretty quickly after that. He feels pain in the depths of his stomach, and he knows he shouldn't take it out on you, so he leaves.

He walks home, since his home is just a simple shack right under the cliffs near the ocean. He unties the cummerbund and rips the cuff links off of his sleeves.

With the moon as his only light, he sits on the beach with his feet in the tide. He watches the moon until it becomes hard to keep his eyes open, and then he goes to sleep, the smell of lavender and lemon still on his skin.

He's on net-making duty the next day, so he sits in the same spot on the beach. His hands burn from the amount of times he's pulled on the ropes, making sure they're tight and secure enough to hold hundreds of fish.

The waves lap at his ankles until midday, when the tide retracts, and he's left hot and sweaty under the sun.

That's when you arrive.

You look different from last night, dressed down this time in a pair of cotton trousers and a simple white shirt. Your boots crunch over the sand and pebbles as you walk over and hand him a package. "I had your clothes cleaned."

Mark eyes the package for a moment before he sighs, drops his net, and takes it. "Thanks."

"Sure." You point to the net. "Did you make that by yourself?"

Mark accidentally lets out a laugh. "Well, nets don't just appear, you see."

You shove his arm, and Mark finds that your hand feels almost cool against his hot skin. "I know that. I was going to compliment you, but I think I'll take it back now."

"Oh no," Mark says. A teasing smile makes its way to his face before he can stop it. "How will I keep going, now?"

You giggle. It makes Mark feel abnormally proud, as if he's suddenly the funniest person on earth. Which he certainly isn't. He knows it's weird, so he tries to bury it down in the same place he buried the memory of your hand in his. "Shouldn't you get back to the castle?" It comes out more harshly then he intends it to, but he really can't be around you for too long without feeling weird things. Odd things.

"I suppose," you shrug. "I don't want to though. I spent all morning helping clean up and I just want to rest now.

Mark feels a blister forming under his thumb. "Sounds rough."

"Sorry," you manage to look bashful. "I know I have it good. I shouldn't complain. Hey, maybe I could help you!"

"I don't need help," Mark says. "Besides, you wouldn't know how to tie these knots."

"I would if you'd teach me." You catch Mark's gaze and hold it until he looks away, shaking his head softly. You begin to plead. "Look, I'm a really quick learner! And I don't make my tutors repeat things! I can help!"

"You have a tutor?" Mark scoffs. "Aren't you learning a lot more interesting things than how to tie knots?"

"I'm learning about foreign policies," you roll your eyes. "And while it's important, it's tragically boring. I think the life of a sailor must be much more fun."

Mark can agree with that. In fact, he plans on one day having his own boat, and spending his enter life on the water, away from people and families and the castle and any other reminder of his loss. "I'm going to sail away one day. No one will ever see me again."

You stay quiet for a moment, and Mark begins to wonder if he somehow offended you. Surely not. You've only known him for a day; you wouldn't care if he left. Then you say, "You're quite sure no one would miss you, then?"

"Why would they? Everyone has their own lives. Everyone has moved on already."

You sit with Mark in silence while he finishes his net, and then you bid him goodbye just as Jaehyun invites him to his house for supper.

Mark sort of wishes you would have stayed, and he could've spent the night sitting beside you.

The castle feels empty more than full most nights. You suppose it's just your heart, reaching around corners for a parent that no longer exists. You remember when they both came down with tuberculosis. You remember not being able to see them during their last few months. You remember living in a little cottage with your advisor as the castle was inspected and cleaned.

Sometimes you think the castle is haunted by the souls of your parents. There have been many nights when you feel someone stroking your hair the way your mother used to. Maybe you're just making it up, but you like to think she's still with you, as well as your father.

You love them dearly. Though everyone says the tuberculosis was karma for sending so many innocent people into battle, you can't help but want to ask what other option they had.

The pirates had been closing in on all sides. The castle's knights were already on the sea, fighting, and they needed reinforcements. Who else could've been chosen? No one else knew the sea as well. And in the end, it worked, and many of the fishermen returned home to their families.

You figure Mark is one of the unlucky ones.

If you could, you'd take it all back. No one would fight at all, and you'd fix it some other way, whether diplomatically or not. Definitely not by sending innocent people into battle. That was never the goal.

You kiss your mother's rosary and tuck it against your chest. Maybe she would be proud of the steps you're taking. Maybe she would desperately disagree with getting so close to the lower class.

But they aren't disposable. That had been proven in just one night, when you met every fisherman and their family personally. They are all important. They are all real. They are alive, and they won't be used as pawns ever again.

Your bedroom is just as empty as the halls. But here, the walls don't echo, so you freely recite a prayer to your mother, asking her how to do this. How to make hard decisions and save people at the same time. How to rule a country without losing your heart.

You don't see Mark until a week later, when he's seen helping sell fish at the market.

There's a scarf tied around his head to keep the sweat out of his eyes, and it's rather cute the way his wavy black hair falls over it. You approach the smelly booth and shoot Mark a wide smile. "How have you been?"

"Me?" Mark's eyes widen, and he uses his gloved hand to point to himself.

"Who else? The mackerel?" You point to a random fish.

"Actually, that's a bream." Mark says with a smile. Then he frowns. "I don't know how I've been. My hands are burning from making nets all week, and all I can think about is dipping them in these ice buckets. But there are fish guts in those, so I've been able to contain myself."

You laugh, catching the eye of another fisherman. "Oh, hi, Jaehyun."

"Hey, Y/n. Come to take Mark away from the torturous life of a fisherman?" He rests his hand on his forehead dramatically.

"Can I do that?" you ask, looking from one boy to the other.

"He always eats at my house anyways," Jaehyun says. "And it's my boat he works for, so sure. Just don't make him use his hands," he winks.

You cough out a laugh, sure your cheeks are just as red as Mark's.

Mark quickly unties his apron and shoves his gloves off of his hands. You notice his palms are pink and raw, and it makes you think of the healers back at the castle. "Hey, I know you're not a big fan of the castle, so I can go by and get it, but I have a balm that can heal your hands a lot quicker."

Mark looks up towards the faraway cliffs, where the castle stands. "Maybe... if we don't take long... I can go back in."

Mark kind of wishes his hands weren't messed up. Not because they would hurt less (though that would be nice) but because now you aren't trying at all to hold his hand, and that makes Mark just a tad bit sad. Okay, maybe a lot more than a tad bit.

You bring him into a healer's room, where the walls are draped in herbs and random flowers that probably have some sort of healing properties. He sees a boiling cauldron in the corner, and shelves upon shelves of vials.

"Ten is quite the hoarder," you say as a way of explanation.

He sits on the cot while you grab the balm and some bandages. Then, you sit beside him and take his left hand first. You place it upturned on your lap and rub the balm into his skin using small circular motions, the way Ten taught you awhile ago.

He hisses in pain, and it's quite obvious that the blisters are infected.

"Should I drain them before I bandage them?" you ask, mostly to yourself.

Mark whimpers, and then he huffs like he's heard Lucas' son do many times before. "It's probably better if you do."

"Just don't watch," you say hastily. "It'll hurt less."

Mark keeps his head hidden in your shoulder the entire time, refusing to look until both of his hands are drained and bandaged. He focuses on the way your skin smells like the sea salt, but in a sweet way. Like you've somehow only extracted the good parts of the ocean.

When you officially announce that your done, Mark looks up. His senses are overwhelmed by both the pain, and the smell of your skin, so when he finds himself nose to nose with you, it's hard not to lean in.

Just before his lips touch yours, he hears the door open.

It breaks his trance, and he blinks, backing up a short distance. He brings his hands back to his own lap.

A man — Ten, Mark supposes — walks in. "Oh, Your Highness. What's wrong?"

Mark almost laughs. Who would mistake someone for the princess? But then your face pales, and you look like you've just been punched in the gut.

"Your Highness?" He says quietly, hoping he somehow heard wrong. "You told me you were a noble."

"I am," you say, folding in on yourself timidly.

Ten sees that he's made a mistake, so he quickly grabs a bundle of rosemary and runs out of the door.

"Princess Y/n? That's your name?" Mark asks again, feeling his bones go cold. He can't like the princess. He can't have almost kissed the princess. He can't fall for the girl who's parents inadvertently got his family killed.

He stands up. "I have to go."

"Mark, wait—" you reach for the boy, but he backs away from your touch, reaching for the door. "I'm sorry."

He opens the door. "I have to go," he repeats, shaking his head and escaping the room.

Your coronation is in two days, and all you can think about is Mark and his family.

You can guess what happened, as it happened to a lot of families during that time. Of course, Mark is one of the only ones who kept the fishing trade after such a tragedy.

You want to go see him, but something holds you back. If he blames you and despises you, he wouldn't want to see you under any circumstances.

But you can't help but think about him and all of the others who lost family due to your parents' poor decisions. Sure, you could throw a ball for present-day fishermen, but that doesn't cover the families of the passed.

They could be struggling or alone, and you don't want any of them to feel lost. You want them to find closure apart from a lavish party.

So you set your coronation back, and you get together with a few architects in the kingdom.

And as soon as the plan is set in motion, you head down to the docks, hoping Mark will be the first to know about it. He may reject you, but you want him to know. He deserves to know, as the one who inspired the project.

You find Jaehyun first, untangling a net at the end of his boat, feet hanging over the side, against the hull. "Hey, Jaehyun. Is Mark here? I really need to talk to him."

Jaehyun looks remorseful. "He left a while ago. Took his shabby sailboat and left for who-knows-where. 'Said he might come back. 'Said maybe not."

"Oh," you say. Your mind feels burdened, but you accept it. You have to. "Okay. Well, if he comes back—"

"I'll send him your way," Jaehyun gives you a pity-filled smile, like he knows what you're both thinking.

Mark probably isn't going to come back.

You focus on the project.

One section of the kingdom courtyard is cleared, and now a tree stands, with a sign in front of it. The plaque reads off the names of all the deceased, and all the families affected. It reads off the history of the decision, and the conscious choice not to let history repeat itself.

You invite every family mentioned and offer them enough resources to keep them afloat for the remainder of their lives. You take the money out of the savings your father held aside for war and your mother held aside for your coronation, wedding, and honeymoon.

Surely, this is more important.

You can't think of why a coronation would have to be anything special enough to hold back resources that should have been gifted as soon as the war ended.

You know firsthand that the scars of grief won't heal completely, but this is certainly a start. This is a step in the direction of closure, and you do your best to prove to your people that you are genuine in this decision.

You sign a declaration stating that no one will be forced to fight again, and all procedures to prevent a war will be taken. War will be a last resort, lest anything happen to your people. God forbid.

That night you fall asleep feeling lighter than you have in years.

You still wish Mark had been there to see it. To see that he has never been alone.

You want to tell him that there's a room in the castle with his name on it, if he wants it. You want to tell him that he can stay here forever, and you'll do your best not to bother him.

Most of all, you just want to know that he's safe.

Mark finds himself on a small island, and decides to stay for a few days.

He'll come back, he knows that deep down. But it's only because he has something to come back to. Someone.

It's impossible to deny that he has some kind of feelings towards you. However weak they are, they're there. However platonic or romantic they may be, he wants to be around you. He doesn't want to go a long time without seeing you; talking with you.

The fact that you're the princess has him at a standstill. Because, yeah, your parents made a horrible decision. But he knows you were only a child when it was made. You were his age. And when the king and queen were overcome by their illness just a few years later, you were left alone to rule.

Mark is beginning to think you know just as much about feeling alone as he does.

He sleeps on the beach beside a campfire. His stomach is only half-full, but he doesn't feel like eating any more of his rations.

He looks across the vast horizon and imagines that you're in the castle, looking out. Maybe you can see the smoke, or maybe he's simply becoming a vapor in the wind.

Maybe you don't miss him, or care that he's gone. Maybe you're angry for the way he left.

Mark figures he should work on the whole impulse thing.

He'll come back one day, he knows. Just not yet.

You are crowned as queen a month later, when the sea is chilly and the air is biting. Your breath turns into frost as often as you breathe, waiting in anticipation for a boat that may never return home.

Days are filled with meetings and discussions over keeping the peace, and while you adore your country, you can't help but wish you were back on the docks that night, meeting Mark again for the first time.

You stay up late, nightmares eating at your mind. Your mother's ghost still lingers around, but she feels less comforting now, and you don't know why. Her presence makes the room cold and dark. Even her rosary doesn't feel as good as it once did.

Still you clutch it, and say a quick prayer to whoever will bring Mark home the fastest.

And when you look up, you can see a small sailboat, making its way towards the light of the lighthouse beam.

You hastily pull pants over your nightgown and throw a jacket over your shoulders before racing out of your bedroom, fingers still clutching your mother's beads.

You forgot to put on shoes. This would be fine, if the cliffs weren't so sharp. So, you slow your pace and pick a smoother path, not wishing to get any serious injuries.

The wood of the dock is cold. It's wet, too. The slimy kind of wet that makes you want to take a bath as soon as you feel it. But still you stand, eyes focused on that little sailboat, hoping it's Mark on his way home.

Your knees are aching, and you're shivering by the time the boat finally docks. But it's all worth it when Mark walks out, his clothes dirty and messed up.

He starts when he notices you, but once he realizes you are not, in fact, a ghost, he quickens his pace until he is right in front of you. "You're not mad at me."

"No," you say. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," Mark breathes. A laugh of relief leaves his lips and he reaches forward to wrap you into a hug. "I'm sorry I did that. I acted impulsively and I shouldn't have."

"No, you shouldn't have," you scold, squeezing him as tightly as you can. "I was afraid for your safety every night."

Mark awkwardly pats your back until you let him go, and then he gives you a crooked smile. "I'm extremely tired. Do you think we could meet up in the morning?"

"You don't sleep in that shack during the winter, do you?"

Mark seems confused. "Yeah, why?"

"You'll get sick," you protest. "Won't you just come to the castle with me? I know you don't like it, but there's a room with your name on it if you want it."

Mark covers his mouth as he yawns. "You know what? I might take you up on your offer. Just for tonight, though."

He seems set on his decision, and you're just thankful that he's alive, so you grab his hand and pull him up the cliffs, excited to have him with you once again.

Mark submerges his head completely under the water. You had a bath drawn for him, and you even filled it with lavender and lemon oils. Though the scents make Mark even drowsier than before, he's thankful that you remembered the scents.

They make him think of that night when he first met you, and that makes his heart warm.

He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the fluffy pillows. After being so used to sleeping on the ground, this feels like a cloud.

He gets the best sleep he's had in ages.

You wake up in a cold sweat, visions of Mark caught in a shipwreck wracking your body in waves. Shivers race down your spine, so you sit up and look around, counting the things in your room the way Ten told you to do when you feel on the verge of a panic.

Once the room stops spinning, you get up and begin to dress, excited to show Mark around your home. You want to show him the garden, and the memorial.

You put on a yellow sundress and race out of the door. You knock incessantly on Mark's door until he finally opens it.

The sight that greets you makes your heart flutter worse than the dream. But it's in a different way. It's a positive and lovely flutter that zips all the way down to your toes.

Mark is still in his nightclothes. One hand still on the door, the other goes up to rub his eyes. His hair is messy, shooting up in all different directions. His skin has gotten a lot darker since his voyage, and the stark contrast to his white shirt warms the pit of your stomach. "Morning," he mumbles.

You suddenly want to reach over and kiss him, just to capture that innocent look on his face. However, you mask that feeling with a smile. "Do you want to have breakfast? Or, if you're still tired, maybe we could just hang out here."

Mark looks longingly back at his bed. Then, to the still-dark sky outside the window. "Uh, what time is it?"

"Four in the morning," you say, heart skipping a beat.

"Four?" Mark gapes at you. "Shouldn't you be asleep still? Why are you dressed?"

You pout. "I had a nightmare and don't want to go back to sleep."

Mark rolls his eyes and reaches for your hand. He pulls you into his room. "Get dressed into something comfier and let's go back to sleep."

You find a long nightshirt in his wardrobe, but you don't like the second part of his plan. From behind the dressing screen, you slip the silky fabric over your body. "I don't want to sleep. I'll have bad dreams again."

"What are they about?" Mark questions. He's lying on his bed, arms stretched out behind his head. The shirt he's wearing rides up at the hips the more he stretches, and you nearly get caught staring at the sliver of skin that shows.

"Um. People I care about in dangerous situations," you say, not wanting to reveal that most of them are about him. It's just that your brain can't seem to catch up to the present. Maybe it hasn't caught on that Mark is here, safe, and not lost out at sea.

"But you have to sleep," Mark says. "We didn't get in until, like, midnight. You need more than that."

"I'll just lay beside you," you say, hoping it appeases him. "And we can get breakfast when you wake up."

Mark looks annoyed, but he doesn't say anything else. He shifts into his side, facing you, and closes his eyes.

You mirror his actions, burying yourself under his covers that already seem to smell like him. Like the sea and lavender and lemons. You take a deep breath and watch him fall asleep. You take note of the way his eyelids begin to flutter, and the noiseless mumbles coming from his lips. He's beautiful (and he falls asleep really fast, you notice.)

You reach out and clasp his shirt, fisting the loose fabric. Anchoring yourself to him makes this feel more real, and you hope your brain is finally catching up to the rest of you.

Sometime within the next thirty minutes, you fall asleep. And there are no nightmares. In fact, there are no dreams at all.

Mark wakes up with his arms around somebody's waist, and for the life of him he can't figure out if he went to bed with anybody last night.

What was last night? His mind floods back to him sailing back to the mainland and finding you waiting for him.

It's you. He groggily opens his eyes and sees you, curled against his chest, fingers clutched around the front of his shirt. And his arm is only holding you there, keeping you in his embrace until he wants to let go.

Mark loosens up his arm and settles for lying next to you, listening to the sound of your breathing. Soft snores emit every now and again, and a piece of his heart pinches with endearment.

He's thankful you waited. He can't imagine how upsetting it would have been to come back and not have you greet him. He takes it a step further and wonders how he would have felt if you were betrothed; promised to another. Not that you were ever promised to him, but still.

There's always a future possibility, he likes to imagine.

Though, to be honest, he has no idea what it means for you to be a queen. He wonders if there are rules against favoring a fisherman. Maybe you'll wake up and tell him that the two of you have to stay six inches apart now that you're queen. He has no idea.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" you snap him out of his thoughts.

Mark watches as a sleepy smile paints your lips. "Just... is this scandalous?"

You cover your mouth with your hand and giggle. Your eyes seem to twinkle at him, and it makes Mark glad that he coaxed you into going back to sleep for a few hours. "Don't you know we're a matriarchy?"

Mark gapes. "The line goes through the women?"

"Essentially, yeah," you say. "I can be around men as much as I please, so long as I one day have a female heir. Though that will not be any time soon, I'm very sure."

Mark remembers Lucas and his son, and he wonders what it'd be like to have a little one of his own. It's a comforting thought, like he might one day be able to find a family again. "Oh. Cool."

"Yeah," you say. "I mean, not that I normally find myself in the bed of different men, just... you know."

Mark clears his throat. "Yeah. Er, yeah."

"I didn't have any nightmares," you say. "So maybe it was good that I went back to sleep."

"You do need your sleep," Mark says. "It's important."

You change the subject. "What should we do after breakfast?"

"Well, I really have to go see Jaehyun and ask for my position on his boat again." Mark feels sheepish for cutting his time with you short, but he needs to make an income. "I can visit you soon, though."

"Maybe we could sail together one day," you say. Mark can tell you're masking your disappointment, and it makes his heart clench.

"Definitely," he says, if not just to watch your eyes light up.

Jaehyun kept Mark's spot open while he was gone, hoping he would return. "Why do you look so nice?"

"Oh," Mark runs his hands through his hair and avoids Jaehyun's gaze. "I spent the night at the castle."

Jaehyun snickers knowingly, and when Mark tries to deny whatever it is he's thinking of, he only gets louder. "I can't believe you spent the night with the queen and you want to be humble about it."

"It wasn't like that," Mark says, defending you. "Don't be weird about it. We're friends."

"Fine," Jaehyun rolls his eyes. "If you don't want to be the future king, fine."

"Actually, it's a matriarchy, so I wouldn't even be king. I'd be like, the consort or something." Mark grunts as he lifts a fishing net onto his back. "Which is kind of cool when you think about it."

"You don't want power?"

Mark scoffs, looking back at his friend. "Imagine me running a country. I can't count a million ways that would go wrong. Y/n is better suited, obviously."

"Yeah," Jaehyun matches Mark's stride. "I was kind of on the fence about her reigning instead of a regent, but then she set up the monument and signed that treaty. I think that's the most badass thing I've ever seen anybody do."

"What monument?" Mark shifts the weight of the net and dumps it on the deck of Jaehyun's ship. They begin to untangle it and spread it out to get ready for tomorrow's voyage.

"Are you kidding me? The one inspired by you? I thought Y/n would've told you as soon as she saw you."

"I kind of left as soon as I woke up. And last night we were both so tired..." Mark fiddles with his sleeves. "What is the monument about?"

"It's a memorial," Jaehyun's voice carries a more somber tone. He lost his father in that war, too. "It's literally engraved in stone, the mistakes her parents made, and the promise not to repeat it. And it has the names of the deceased and the affected. It's basically a shrine; people leave things for their loved ones who have passed. It's a great sentiment. Oh, and the treaty. She signed a treaty with the people that she'd never force anyone to fight in a war. She's essentially risking the entire country for the lower class. It's amazing."

Mark's heart softens towards you. "She did all that?"

"Held back her coronation to finish it," Jaehyun confirms. "Then, each family of the deceased got compensated. You know, like her parents promised they would do, and then never did?"

Mark does remember, but he also remembers that being the year both monarchs died. They never had the chance to fulfill their promise. "Wait, so we both got compensation?"

"Yeah," Jaehyun said, dimples showing. "The bookkeeper has yours. I put most of mine into savings, since I don't mind the business I have right now. But I figured you'd want a new boat to take out and live on."

Mark eyes the water, and remembers how lonely he felt being the only one for miles. No one had been there for him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to agree to that again. "I'll put mine into savings, too. For now."

"You could take Y/n on a trip," Jaehyun suggests.

Mark shakes his head. "She wants me to take her sailing, but how do you charm a girl who has everything?"

"Give her the one thing she's never had," Jaehyun says, as if the answer is obvious. "Freedom."

Mark doesn't ask you to, but you bring a picnic basket with you the day the two of you go sailing.

You figure Mark probably only knows how to prepare a small number of things, and it might be nice to bring him something of a royal caliber to snack on. Besides, you have to bring something to thank him for taking you out with him.

Mark's boat is extremely small: just big enough for a crew of maybe six people, but small enough to be controlled by one man alone.

You watch Mark hoist the sails and set the boat towards the horizon, the wind doing most of the work.

The wind plays with Mark's hair, as well as his shirt, and you aren't sure which is nicer to look at. He's smiling towards the sun, the sharp rays casting somewhat of a halo around his face and you realize this is exactly where Mark belongs. He belongs with the wind and the sea.

Mark belongs where he can be free.

He anchors the boat once the two of you sail out far enough. You lay the picnic blanket out and extract the miscellaneous food items you thought Mark might like.

He tastes the watermelon first, and nurses the fruit throughout the meal. "So, uh, Jaehyun told me about the memorial. And the compensation."

"Oh," you say. "Well, I thought they deserved to be remembered."

Mark nods. "Thanks. It meant a lot to visit it and find my family's names. I felt a lot of closure. As if they were finally at rest."

"Good," you take a sip of water. "That's good."

"You know," Mark pauses like he's about to say something troublesome, "your parents deserved to be remembered, too. They deserve to rest."

You glance up, and your head all of a sudden feels heavy on your neck. It's as if Mark said the words you so desperately needed to hear, whether you knew it or not. Heat pricks the backs of your eyes and you feel both a headache and tears coming up. "Thanks, Mark. I think so too."

"I thought we could do a small memorial service here. Just a little one. We can burn a candle and forgive your parents together. Then they can rest."

"Yeah," you sniffle, feeling an unbearable amount of gratitude in your heart for the boy sitting across from you. "Okay."

"We should go swimming," you say, just as Mark blows out the candle.

"It's freezing out here," he says, looking at you like you're crazy.

"I'm going in," you say, backing up towards the edge of the boat.

Mark watches you jump off of his boat, then he hears a splash, and then a joyful shriek. He sighs and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. He toes off his shoes and socks and stands at the edge of the boat. "How cold is it?" He calls down to you.

"It's super chilly," you yell back, teeth chattering as you smile in satisfaction. "But it feels good."

Mark takes your word for it and dives in head first. His bones chill immeasurably and he feels every muscle in his body wake up for what seems like the first time today. When he reaches the surface, the wind bites at his ears, and he begins chattering, too. "This is a terrible idea," he laughs.

"I know," you say gleefully. You swim over to him, and Mark catches that familiar glint in your eyes. It looks like you're truly happy, and he thinks in this moment that he'd freeze himself a thousand times over again if it kept that stupid smile on your face. "Also, how do we get back onto the boat?"

"There's a ladder on the other side," Mark says. "We're good."

"Okay," you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind, and hook your ankles together at the front of his navel. "Carry me there?"

Mark dips at the sudden new weight, but it isn't unwelcome. He swims to the other side of the boat, a bit lazy because he really likes the way you're clinging onto him.

He lets you go up the ladder first, and he keeps his eyes on the ocean so he won't accidentally look up your skirt. As soon as you yell that you're clear, he begins to climb as well.

When the two of you return to the castle, you're placed in front of the fireplace in Mark's room by a very angry Ten. The two of you take whatever soup he made to warm your insides, and snicker at the obvious annoyance in the man's face.

"To be fair, it's only because he doesn't want us getting hurt," Mark supplies. He wraps the wool blanket tighter around his now-dry shoulders. The two of you are wearing new sets of clothes, having washed up in lukewarm water like Ten advised you to.

"I know," you giggle, scooting closer to him. "He's just so funny when he starts complaining." You shiver as you speak.

"C'mere," Mark mumbles. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to him, against the warmth of his body. "This is why I said we shouldn't go swimming."

"I'm fine," you say, shivering in his hold. "I'm getting warmer."

Mark runs his hand up and down your arms to try and create some kind of extra heat. Once you finally stop shivering, he checks on you, only to find that you've fallen asleep against his chest.

His heartbeat quickens — for absolutely no reason — as he gathers you in his arms and places you on the side of the bed closest to the fireplace.

You let out a sigh of contentment and curl into the sheets. When Mark tucks you in, he swears he hears you mumble a quiet thanks.

He wonders if he should sleep in here or try to find another room to sleep in. Obviously he's slept beside you before, but he wonders if it's weird now because of how much he likes you. He wouldn't want you to think he's taking advantage.

But then Ten comes in and quite literally shoves him into the bed. "The two of you are getting a lot of sleep, because tomorrow I will have you both up drinking a very disgusting brew that prevents serious sickness. It'll be ready in the morning. So, get to sleep."

Mark obeys, too afraid to explain his predicament to Ten. It's a bit stupid anyway, he figures.

So he climbs into bed and falls asleep under the warm covers.

Mark is untangling nets on the beach, toes buried in the sand. The wind has been picking up, causing his hair to annoyingly waft into his eyes every now and again.

He can hear the shrieks of laughter from Lucas' son as the boy runs up and down the dock. A moment passes where he pictures having a son of his own to teach at the docks. But maybe that isn't the life for him.

He's been spending his nights at the castle, staying up to talk to you. The majority of the time, you both fall asleep together, either intertwined or just in each other's presence.

Mark doesn't want to admit that he's falling for you, because that would mean he's falling for the queen. And while that doesn't sound too bad, Mark wonders how much of his freedom he'll have to give up. He wonders if he'd have to pay a price to be officially wed to you, when he likes the way things are now. He likes just being around you, as a friend, safe at a distance.

But he can't deny that there are times when he would love to kiss you and touch you in ways friends are not supposed to. He tries to keep these thoughts buried with the rest of them. In the things-that-will-never-happen pile.

He wonders if you like him too, and just as much. You certainly seem to enjoy every moment you're with him, but you're also just a generally joyful person, so Mark isn't sure he could differentiate the two if he tried.

He focuses on the net, hoping to keep you out of his mind for at least a day.

The universe has other plans.

"Hey," you sit beside him. You wiggle your toes into the sand and grin at him. "Whatcha doing?"

"Working," Mark says, bumping his shoulder with yours. "I'm untangling nets."

Your face suddenly softens. "Are you going to get hurt again? Maybe you should wear gloves."

"I'm used to it," Mark says, shrugging off your worry. When he can sense that you aren't appeased, he swings his head to the side and gives you a long glance. "I'm serious."

You huff. "Just because you're used to it doesn't mean it has to keep happening."

In the end, you win. Mark begrudgingly puts on the pair of work gloves that you steal from Jaehyun. He has to admit that it feels a lot better, and he untangles the net a lot faster when he isn't trying to avoid getting any cuts. "Thanks, Y/n."

You grin. You follow him as he drags the net up to Jaehyun's boat and help him lay it out. Mark notices the bottom of your dress is soggy with whatever grossness dresses the dock. He also notices that you don't seem to mind, and you do your best to keep up with him as he works.

Eventually, the two of you get into a small rhythm of Mark briefly teaching you, and you picking up the trade rather easily. You help him pack bait, secure knots, and clean the deck of Jaehyun's ship.

By nightfall, the two of you are covered in a thin layer of sweat. Mark is suddenly extremely thankful that you've given him a room in the castle, and he can take a proper bath tonight.

Jaehyun and his brothers are going on a trip for a few weeks, so he won't have much to do on the docks as far as working goes. He wonders if he'll stay at the castle, or feel more comfortable by the sea.

Mark tucks the light brown cotton vest into his pants. It covers the white dress shirt he took out of the wardrobe, and matches the dark brown belt fastened around his waist. He slips his sock-clad feet into his worn leather boots. He sits on his bed and fastens the straps of the boots.

It's raining, hard. There's no way anyone is going down to the docks today, and since Jaehyun isn't going to be there anyway, Mark refuses to brave the harsh rain. Instead, he makes his way to your bedroom door and knocks.

You call for him to enter. He walks in to see you hunched over your writing desk, reading some kind of letter. Your eyebrows are knitted together and your lips are pursed. An upset sigh escapes them. "It's from my aunt."

"What does she want?" Mark takes slow, hesitant steps towards the desk. "Is it bad?"

You rub your temples, looking more stressed than Mark has ever seen. "She wants me to have an heir. A daughter. Which is fine, but I don't need one now. I'm young and I'm unmarried. But she's talking about sending a few suitors over."

Mark's blood runs cold. "Oh? Um, did you agree to it?"

"It wasn't a choice," you say, slamming the parchment down onto the desk. You reach up and grab fistfuls of your hair, resting your elbows on the wooden surface. "I just... I made so much progress, you know? And she assumes it's not enough. She assumes I'm nothing without an heir."

"What happens if you don't get married and have a daughter?" Mark asks, wincing more with every word.

You sigh. Your smile is extremely forced as you look at him. "Well, then she would have to take the throne, as apparently I wouldn't be fit enough to rule."

Mark can see the beginnings of tears in your eyes. "She can't do that, right? She can't keep you off the throne?"

"Technically, since she's the only female on my mom's side with a daughter of her own, she can." You begin to crumple up the letter. "She wouldn't be able to rule this country like I can. She won't have empathy for my people. She won't be gentle or kind. She won't throw parties for the lower class... Mark, what am I going to do?"

Mark wants to remind you that he is only a fisherman who has no idea how royalty works. However, all he can do is look into your eyes and realize that you're all alone. You're all alone and you're looking to him for help; for an anchor; for something to cling to so that you won't drown.

"Mark, please..." and immediately, he pulls you into his embrace. He tucks your head under his chin and holds you close, doing his best to still the violent shivers that run through your body. "I don't want to marry someone I don't love. I don't want to be forced into a union."

"Shh..." Mark runs his palms up and down your back. "We'll figure it out, right? You'll prove that you can rule without an heir, right?"

"I don't know," you sob into Mark's chest. "But I have to do it because she can't be on the throne. I won't do that to you. I can't. Not to my people—"

"Okay, okay, okay," Mark shushes you. "Alright. You do what you have to do. But tonight, let's just rest. Let's just pretend nothing is happening. Can we do that for tonight?"

You look at Mark and nod. You use the ends of your sleeve to wipe at your nose, leaving the skin red and raw. "Can you stay with me?"

Mark sits on your bed, and you crawl into his lap. He feels your forehead press against the side of his neck. Your hands clutch at his now-untucked shirt. You're still crying — he can feel a few stray tears slip beneath his collar — but you're quieter now. Your heart isn't racing as fast.

"Mark," you whisper, almost sleepily. "I love you."

Mark's breath hitches in his throat at your words. He finds that now he's the one with tears, pricking the back of his head like the painful reminder that this is all he'll ever be able to be to you. "I love you, too."

The rain continues to pour outside. Mark runs his fingers through your hair, and tells you quiet tales of the sea until you fall asleep, looking far too small and vulnerable in his arms.

He wonders just how much a queen has to sacrifice. He wonders if he would ever be able to steal the weight off of your shoulders.

For a quick moment, Mark closes his eyes and imagines a world where it's just the two of you, and you mean it when you say you love him. It's not just fever-fueled words.

He kisses the top of you head. "So much."

The coffee is bitter on your tongue, but it's a lot sweeter than your aunt's arrival.

She comes in a carriage far too large for a single person. Her dress is too thick for Ora's climate, and yet she walks with her head held high, as if she can't feel the drops of sweat along her hairline.

Her hair is hidden beneath a large bonnet made of wire and something else. The atrociousness of it all just makes you want to laugh. Though the reality of the situation isn't funny in the least.

Mark is at the docks today, but you take comfort in knowing that he's on your side. Part of you wishes he would confess to you, and the two of you could get married. Wouldn't that be everything you've ever wanted?

Mark is, however, your dearest friend, and you doubt his affections towards you are romantic. He's never really been that affectionate anyway, save when the two of you are sleeping.

Sometimes you wonder how it would feel if he just decided to kiss you one day. If he decided that he loved you, truly. That he is in love with you, and the two of you can carry on in life together.

That's another thing you despise about this decision. What will happen to you and Mark if you wed another? Surely you'll have to stop sleeping in each other's beds. You'll have to spend more time with your husband. The thought breaks your heart.

What a tender and vulnerable love you have for the fisherman at the docks. It's something no one could replace.

And that's when you decide to lie to your aunt. You can't stand a life without Mark. Not now. So you pretend you don't have to. "Actually, I'm betrothed to someone. His name is Mark."

Your aunt purses her lips. Her entire face is puckered like she just ate something sour, and yet she somehow still looks beautiful. It irks you. "Is he of noble birth?"

"No," you say, straightening your shoulders. "but that isn't important, is it?"

Your aunt meets your daring gaze. She sighs. "No, I suppose it doesn't. Will you have an heir, though?"

"I do hope you aren't suggesting infidelity before marriage," you quip.

Your aunt balks. "Now you're just putting words into my mouth, Y/n—"

"Your Majesty," you correct, clasping your hands together. "and I do believe I am asking the appropriate questions. You wanted me to get betrothed, and I am."

There's a fire in your aunt's eyes. She blinks, settles for a calculated grin, and leans on her palm. "Of course. I only think it's peculiar that your people do not know of the engagement yet. Are the two of you waiting to announce it?"

"Well..." You clench your fists beneath the table, "I have been waiting for the right time..."

"I will host a ball." If you didn't know any better, you'd say your aunt is calling your bluff. And if you say no, she's got you right where she wants you.

You aren't letting her have any say in ruling your people. "Wonderful! I'll tell Mark right away!"

The look on your aunt's face is almost enough to make up for the bile that creeps up your throat.

When Mark comes into his room that night, hair still wet from his bath, you're pacing back and forth in front of his bed.

You're already in your nightgown, and your hair is braided with that familiar seashell pendant tied to the bottom. "I did something bad."

Mark watches the way you take your ring on and off of your finger. "I'm sure it's not that bad, right?"

You stop and face him. "We're getting married, Mark."

The air knocks out of his lungs, and he feels as if someone just punched him in the gut. He clears his throat; blinks. "Pardon?"

You laugh incredulously. "I just– she was getting under my skin, and I thought about how if I get married, we won't be the same, and I couldn't let that be a reality, so I just blurted it out thinking she'd drop it but now she wants to throw a ball and announce it to the people and I can't say no because she'll call my bluff—" you pause to take a deep breath. "Mark, I'm so sorry."

Mark thinks the worst part of this entire ordeal must be you thinking he wouldn't want to marry you. He wants to know when his life got so confusing. He manages a smile. "I guess I should learn how to dance, then, huh?"

"Yeah," you manage a giggle, the worry lines evening out in your forehead. "Yeah, but I can teach you."

"Good," Mark says, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He wonders if you'd be opposed to this being a real thing. He's too much of a coward to ask. "Good."

You've figured out why Mark tied the knots so many times that he received blisters, and why he's always the last one to leave the docks. He's a perfectionist, and he needs everything he does to be done without a single flaw.

This is what it feels like teaching him how to dance. The two of you repeat the same routine over and over again, sometimes seriously, and other times with laughter stopping you in the middle. But each time, Mark insists that he made a mistake. No matter how many times you assure him that he's perfect, he asks to try again.

In the end, it's nearly midnight when he feels somewhat satisfied. The two of you are just swaying back and forth, letting the rest of the record play on. "Are you always so diligent in your tasks?" you ask.

Mark laughs nervously, his shoulders tensing as he shrugs. "I don't like making mistakes."

"You make a lot of them to get where you are, though," you remind him. "You're determined, I'll give you that."

"You have to remember that I'm going to be dancing with the queen in front of everyone," Mark says, eyes searching yours. "They're going to be waiting for me to make a mistake."

"Maybe my aunt," you stick your tongue out in disgust, "but her opinion doesn't matter. As long as we get her out of here, everything can go back to normal."

Mark focuses on your intertwined fingers. He looks solemn, his doe eyes peering. "What exactly is normal? I mean, after we announce a marriage, we can't just take it back. The people will think you're impulsive. It'll ruin your reputation."

Part of you wishes you were back on the docks, the night of that party, meeting Mark for the first time. You still feel the same way; enamored with the innocence of him. An innocence you're ruining with your royal blood. "I don't know, Mark. But I got us in this mess, so I'll deal with the consequences. If you need to break it, I'll help you leave."

Mark dips down and presses his forehead against yours. "Would it be so crazy if we got married for real? Would it be much different than what we're doing now?"

You feel heat rush to your face. Your heartbeat thrums in your ears like the sound of a bongo drum. "I suppose married people do a bit more," you manage to joke.

Mark laughs; shakes his head, and with his face this close, his eyes look like little galaxies. "I mean it. I'm all in if you are."

You nod, liking the way your nose brushes against his. "I want to marry you, Mark."

The night comes and goes; a huge celebration not unlike the one you threw so many months ago.

When it's over, you feel relieved and happy. Your aunt is leaving in the morning, and you're going to marry your best friend. It's sort of a blessing in disguise.

You take off your sandals and get dressed in your pajamas. You step out onto your balcony and feel the wind hit your skin. You sigh. Nothing feels easy anymore, and every decision seems out of your hands. It's enough to make anyone mad, but you hope to hold on to the blessings you've been given.

Specifically, Mark.

You head into his room, hoping to sneak under his covers as usual. Instead of a ready-for-bed Mark, you're greeted with a shirtless Mark.

Time seems frozen as you realize he's just unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it upwards, so that his pants and cummerbund are still intact. He unties the thick sash, and when it falls, you can see the lean outline of his abdomen.

You blink. "Um. Hi."

"Oh!" Mark covers his chest with his hands, which would be quite comical if it weren't for the already-thick tension in the air.

You grab a shirt off of his desk chair and walk over to him. "Here."

Mark's fingers brush against yours when he takes the shirt. Heat radiates off of his naked torso, and you wish he would just put on the stupid shirt already so you can stop thinking things you aren't supposed to think.

Maybe Mark knows what you're thinking. Maybe he's punishing you for getting him into this mess. Whatever the reason, his expression shifts. He takes on a devilish grin and hands the shirt back to you. "Actually, I'm going to keep it off. It's kind of hot in here, isn't it?"

Because he's half naked, you want to scream in frustration. Mark has always been extremely handsome, with his wavy black hair and brown doe eyes. And of course, you've always been curious about what he hides under his shirts, but right now you can't stop staring at him, and things aren't going as you planned at all.

"Should we–" you clear your throat. "Should we sleep?"

Mark hums. He leans his shoulder against the bedpost and looks you up and down, slowly enough for the tension to charge. "Alright," he says abruptly. "Goodnight."

You burrow under the covers and decide not to ever come out again.

The tension is extremely palpable. It feels like a coil, wrapped around the two of you. Neither of you know when, or even if, it's gonna snap.

Mark has tried to focus on his work at the docks, but then Jaehyun is congratulating him, and he's reminded of everything all over again. He wants to ask Jaehyun for help, but he knows he'll sound crazy if he asks how to win his betrothed's heart.

So he tries to do it himself. He attempts to read your expressions when he talks to you for any indication that you're falling in love with him.

Because tension or not, he can't do this if your feelings aren't real. He can't put his heart on the line like that.

Right now, you're safe. Even if the two of you get married, it's still a friend thing. No lines have been crossed, and Mark is afraid that's going to change soon.

But what if it's for all of the wrong reasons?

He ends up sitting on his windowsill, eyeing the lighthouse beam as it shines over the calm sea. He unhinges the latch and opens the window, allowing the ocean air to fill his senses. It's been so long since he sailed away on his boat. Everything has changed.

Mark lets his head fall back against the wall. He closes his eyes tightly and emits a frustrated sigh. Maybe he should just tell you. Maybe it's time to put everything on the line, and if you get weirded out, he can just leave on his sailboat again. Right?

He chuckles to himself. Truthfully, when it comes down to it, he wouldn't change a thing about his predicament. He's thankful for your friendship and love, and he's content enough. After all, your happiness comes first.

You storm in, startling him out of his thoughts. "Someone destroyed the memorial," you say, eyes red from apparent tears.

"What?" Mark manages to stand up. "Who would do that? Why?"

"Noble rebels who don't want me marrying a man of lower class," you hiss, rubbing at your nose. "As if any of that matters when I'm in love with you."

Mark's heart stutters in his chest. Did he hear you correctly? "We— Uh— What do we do?"

"Ugh, nothing," you groan. "Not tonight. Tomorrow I'll address everyone and we'll begin looking for suspects. I'm just... I don't want anyone against us."

"Your aunt is against us," Mark points out.

"Screw her," you mutter. "I wish people saw you the way I did. They wouldn't doubt my decision for a second."

Mark stills when you close the distance with him and rest your palms against his chest. "W-What are you doing?"

"I mentioned that I'm in love with you and you haven't said anything. Does that mean you want to forget it?" A pout forms on your lips, and it takes everything within Mark not to just kiss it off right then and there.

Instead, like an idiot, he stumbles over his words. "I... uh... well..."

"What?" Your eyes are wide and beautiful, but Mark can see the hesitancy in them.

He can see the vulnerability and nakedness. He can feel the coil in his stomach warm when he finally finds his voice. "I've been in love with you since the blisters."

"Ew," you giggle. But still, you drag Mark's face down to meet your own.

He feels your lips on his before he can actually register what's happening. Once his brain catches up, he furrows his brows, determined to give you the best kiss you've ever had.

He cups your jaw and tilts your head just slightly, allowing him better access to your mouth. He feels your fingers trail down his chest and rest atop his hips. The coil in his stomach burns hot, and when you gasp against his mouth, it snaps.

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and drags it out, ears ringing at the way you whine his name and clutch his hips more tightly than before. He chuckles and goes back to slower, sensual kisses, focusing on the way you feel and taste and sound. When you smile against his lips, he thinks he's found true freedom.

#freedom au #<if i start a series idk #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #mark lee scenario #nct fluff #nct angst #nct scenario #destwrites #i feel like this doesn’t make any sense BUT i’m getting back into writing scenarios i’ll be better soon!

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the-evil-authoress · 4 years

Text

GX Month Day 1: “Game on!”

It’s Judai/Jaden Yuki’s birthday today! Let’s celebrate!

Precious fluffy boi!

Cross posted on Ao3!

Jaden doesn’t do birthdays.

He has maybe one or two memories of cake and candles and his parents’ faces, a couple more surrounded by friends and presents. After that it’s just a card and present or two left on the dining room table of an empty house.

Christina tries at least. She drags him out of the empty house and over to her place. There’s cake and candles and presents that actually match his interests and off key singing. Her mother cooks his favorite dishes. They duel.

It’s bittersweet, but it’s better than hiding under his blanket with his GameBoy all day.

/I’m heading to Yugi’s today. You should come too!/

Biting his lip, Jaden glances at the calendar and wonders if he’s gotten the days mixed up again. But, no, the home screen of the Duel Academy issued PDA proudly proclaims August 31. He looks back at Christina’s message. They hadn’t made any plans which isn’t unusual - Christina usually just shows up to drag him off, so that’s the weird part of this situation.

This is the first time they’ve both had cell phones tho.

He stares at the message, rubbing his thumb against the side of the device, until Winged Kuriboh trills at him to respond instead of sitting here angsting about it.

“Okay, okay- I am not!” Jaden protests.

Winged Kuriboh snorts.

Groaning, Jaden sends his reply.

/maybe/

/3 o’clock! Bring an overnight bag!/

“Are you even listening to me?” Jaden grumbles, but he has to admit to curiosity. This will hardly be his first time at Christina’s cousin’s house, but sleepovers had gotten rarer over the years.

“Oh, fine!” Jaden huffs as Winged Kuriboh headbutts him, tossing off the sheet he’d wrapped himself in to actually get dressed. It’s a little after 1 so he might as well get his stuff and leave now. The train to Domino alone will take an hour.

Ugh. He forgot how much he hated riding this thing alone.

The lights in the game shop out front are off, the door locked, so Jaden goes around to the side door and knocks. Muto-san lets him in.

“Judai! Glad you could make it.” The woman smiles warmly as Jaden toes his shoes off. “Christina’s in the living room.”

“Kay.” It’s a fairly mundane exchange. The few times Christina has dragged him over here on this day in the past, the woman nearly squeezed the daylights out of him. It felt like he might break, but he also felt really safe. He’s still confused by the memory but it’s a good one.

Did everyone forget? That’s not possibly, right?

Winged Kuriboh chirps at him again when he stalls too long in the genkan, and Jaden tries not to look like he jumps at nothing but air. “Alright!” he hisses out the side of his mouth and stalks down the short hallway.

Great. He’s in a bad mood now, and he hates dealing with people when he’s in a bad mood. Christina’s okay, but Yugi and Gramps have only seen his sunny side. Why is it so exhausting to be happy all the time?

“SURPRISE!”

Jaden shrieks as he rounds the corner to an explosion of bright colors and popping noises. It takes him what feels like an eternity to realize he’s just been assaulted with confetti by his friends who definitely don’t live in Domino.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JADEN!” they chorus, every single one of them and what the actual fuck how??

“What?” He blinks dumbly at them, confetti dangling in his face and too stunned to even tell a giggling Winged Kuriboh to shut up.

“We came all this way to surprise you!” Alexis beams. Huh, she looks pretty good out of uniform; the kapris are definitely more practical than those stupid skirts.

“It was Christina’s idea!” Syrus declares, the redhead in question practically vibrating where she stands like she’ll explode into confetti herself any moment. It’s been a long time since he’s seen her that excited. “I was so nervous on the train I nearly missed my stop! But it was worth it!”

“Ha! My brother’s got you beat there. This idiot tried to board the wrong train,” Alexis scoffs, slapping the back of her hand against Atticus’s arm.

“Heeey!” the older boy whines, pouting dramatically. “It was an honest mistake!”

“Well, whatever mishaps on the way, we all got here,” Bastion interrupts, standing proud and tall as always, and Jaden might be a tiny bit delusional but he could swear Bastion looks proud of him. “And I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be. You’re one year older. Congratulations, chap!” Bastion claps him on the shoulder and Jaden’s eyes don’t deceive him; the smartest kid in his grade, if not the whole school, is proud of him for simply turning 16!

Since when are birthdays an accomplishment to be proud of?!

Oh, right, this is the part where Jaden is supposed to smile, not stare at his friends like a dead fish. “R-right!” Did his voice just crack? His face feels creaky and numb. Oh god, is doing the serial killer smile?

“Who wants cake?” a boisterous voice calls, saving Jaden from falling further into panicked thoughts as its owner sweeps out of the kitchen holding a massive cake.

“Chumley?!”

“Yeah, duh! I wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world!” the newly hired card designer declares. “And I got a leave of absence, don’t worry! Apparently Mr. Pegasus is pretty big on the whole family and friends thing.”

Jaden can only gape. Then he notices Chazz lurking behind Chumley, his trademark scowl and dark clothing at total odds with the lopsided, brightly colored party hat someone else must have forced onto his head, and Jaden just loses it. The hysterical giggles bubble up his throat and he’s wheezing before he even understands what’s going on. But he’s...happy? No way, this has gotta be more than just ‘happy’. Jaden doesn’t think he’s felt so much in years!

“C’mere you guys!” He throws himself at them, instigating a group hug as Syrus squeaks and rushes to catch him. He hides the tears in Atticus’ shoulder and laughs instead of sobs. Christina’s hands finds his and he squeezes.

He has to swallow the ache in his throat again, when he sees the mountain of presents on the table.

“We may have gone a bit overboard.” Atticus laughs sheepishly.

“Dad’s gonna murder you when he sees the credit card balance,” Alexis grumbles.

“Oh, posh! Nothing is too big a sacrifice for Jaden’s big day!”

Jaden doesn’t even know what he’s gonna do with all this stuff! They end up building the model Gundam kits together. Jaden’s never had so much fun with those things.

He also gets that soul squeezing hug from Mama Muto.

“Thanks,” he whispers later, sitting on the couch with Christina while their friends argue over a puzzle strewn across the table.

“It wasn’t entirely my idea,” she hums, thumb rubbing his knuckle in a familiar, soothing rhythm. “Syrus wanted to know when your birthday was and pouted when he realized it’d be during summer break. When I told him you weren’t really fond of your birthday anyway, I guess he told Atticus and, well... Atticus got it in his head to throw you the ‘best birthday ever’. Mom doesn’t have enough space for a big party so I asked Yugi if Gramps and Aunty would mind. And here we are.” She smiles at him, so genuine and pure.

His throat aches again. He ignores it.

“Yeah. Best birthday ever.”

#gxmonth2020 #jaden yuki #Judai Yuki #gx #ygo gx #ygogx #yugioh gx #yugiohgx #yu gi oh gx

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justanotherloveaffair · 6 years

Text

The Layover (Part 1/2) - Chadwick x Reader One Shot

LINK TO PART 2

This one shot became so long I had to split it up into two parts. I’ll have the next part up in the next few days.

Summary: During 17 Bridges filming, you miss Chadwick so much that you surprise him in Philadelphia, but it doesn’t all go according to plan.

Warnings: Fluff, language, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it masturbation, otherwise none. all the good smutty stuff is in pt 2 (sorry)

Word Count: 3,577

Author’s Note: I realize that there’s actually no layover in this whole story. Oh well. I’m committed to the title. 🤣

Taglist: @brianabreeze @sarahboseman @kumkaniudaku @grandadchadwick@supersizemeplz, @purple-apricots, @deliciousstreetkidcroissant, @ashanti-notthesinger, @onyour-right, @maverickabull, @lavitabella87, @fullonfrenzy, @builtalongthewayside, @belauriette, @jaeee-http, @airis-paris14, @fortuitoushappenings , @queentearra, @h-challa @90sinspiredgirl @wildaboutchrisevans @theunsweetenedtruth @stevesthot @afraiddreamingandloving @killmongerrss @nah-imjustfeelinit @tchallaholla @a-heretic-child @simplyyamberr @tacohead13 @heyauntieeee @big3gocandykahn + sorry if I missed someone

You had just gotten off the phone with Chadwick and your body was still tingling. Not just from having heard his voice, a sound you had been starving for all day, but because you had a very exciting secret.

You were on your way to the airport, about to surprise him.

Chadwick was away on a long job, and you had been planning to surprise him for weeks without him knowing. Keeping the secret was almost impossible, especially when he seemed genuinely upset in your last conversation at how far away you were.

Strategically, you’d picked a weekend that you knew he had off, a rare circumstance considering he was playing the lead. Then, it was just a matter of booking the plane tickets, asking for time off work, and keeping all of your plotting behind his back a secret during your conversations.

You took the Friday off of work and spent all morning preparing. Plucking, shaving, moisturizing. You went above and beyond with your makeup and hair. But the real star of the show was what you were wearing underneath your casual outfit – a full set of lacy lingerie complete with thigh-highs held up with a garter belt, a black shelf bra, and crotchless panties.

Your plan was to show up, drop your clothes, and blow Chadwick’s socks off.

You were obviously the most excited face in the security line up, nearly giddy and beside yourself to be finally executing your plan. You headed to the gate carrying your little tote bag with your beauty supplies zipped in their 1 ounce containers and barely any clothes. You planned to spend the next few days naked or clothed in lace.

It was an early afternoon flight to Philadelphia and the flight was half full. You grabbed a coffee while you waited, which only ratcheted up your jittery excitement. All you could think of was Chadwick’s face. You played it over and over in your mind, the moment you knocked on his door and saw his expression. And then you lost yourself in thought imagining what came after.

It was thankfully a short flight, just a few hours. Long enough for the drink cart to roll past you so you could down a gin and tonic as you listened to 90s R&B, the kind that provided the perfect backdrop to your horny thoughts of anticipation.

By the time the plane landed, you were all fired up on a lethal cocktail of gin and Janet Jackson. You couldn’t get to Chadwick soon enough. Your body was throbbing, you were nearly at the end of your journey to him, and now everything was an annoying roadblock as you impatiently hurried past people to get outside of the airport.

You rushed to the rideshare line while checking your phone for messages, but you didn’t see any from Chadwick. While you waited, you scrolled through the past few message conversations, smirking at their raunchy contents. He had a filthy mind and you loved it.

You put Chadwick’s address into Google Maps as the Uber took you through the streets, so you could watch your little blue dot getting closer to him. It was getting dark outside as the hours stretched past dinner time.

Finally, you came to his walk-up townhouse, and peered up looking in the window for any lights, but it was dark. Hmm.

The Uber drove away and you stood on the sidewalk looking up. My man is in there somewhere. You smiled and took a deep breath, walking up the steps in your heeled boots and, making sure it was the right number, you knocked.

No answer.

It’s okay, he’s probably in the bathroom. You pulled your scarf a little tighter to protect from the chilly wind and knocked again, your bright smile starting to waver a little.

Still, no answer.

Amazingly, you hadn’t considered that he wouldn’t be there. You pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts to call Chadwick when, at that very same moment, Chadwick’s picture appeared on your screen with a big green Accept button. He was calling you.

“Hello? Baby hi!” You answered, still in shock that he’d had some kind of sixth sense you needed to talk to him.

“Hi baby, uh…. I need to ask you something,” you heard him and experience told you Chadwick was flustered. “Where are you right now?”

You glanced up, checking the window again but seeing no movement behind it.

“Um…” You were torn on how to answer, but didn’t want to ruin your surprise just yet. “I’m at home,” you lied as convincingly as you could.

He chuckled. “Baby are you sure?”

Convinced he could see you standing out front and was playing a joke on you, you walked back down the steps to search for another window he might be looking at you from.

“Uh… yeah,” you said distractedly, looking around for him.

“Well…. I’m at your door right now and you’re not answering.”

You almost dropped the phone.

“YOU WHAT?” You shrieked, heart rate picking up and speeding like a bullet. A mind-numbing feeling of panic began to set in.

“I hate to ruin the surprise, but… surprise!” He said proudly while your heart sank through the earth. “Now where are you so I can hug and kiss you already?”

Heartbroken, you sat down on the cold steps and put your head in your hands.

“Y/N?”

You had gone completely silent.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

“Chadwick, I…” you croaked. He was there. He had gone to you. God fucking dammit. “I’m…” your voice dropped to a whisper and you trembled. “I’m in front of your door right now. I …. came to surprise you, honey.”

“NO.” He immediately cried in an explosion of shock, and then his voice went whisper quiet. “Tell me you are fucking joking.”

“I’m not,” you whimpered. You looked up to the sky, gathering with snow clouds, and blinked away tears.

Chadwick went silent as well and you both sat on the line, in front of each other’s homes, sick with missing each other and in utter shock and disbelief at the huge mistake you had both made.

“Baby…” He moaned, and then swore while you hung your head, cradling it in dejected silence. Tears slipping from your eyes.

“I can’t believe this, I just fucking can’t,” you pursed your lips, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers.

On the other end, you heard him sigh, and then the patter of rapid footsteps.

“Okay, sit tight. I’m going to fix this.”

“How?” you whimpered.

“Can you sit tight for ten minutes and I’ll call you back? Find somewhere to go wait inside. There’s a corner store just on the end of the block,” he instructed.

Your teeth were starting to chatter from the cold. Around you, fluffy white snowflakes were starting to fall, leaving icy kisses on your cheeks and bare legs.

“Yeah, okay,” You stood up and looked both ways until you spotted a 7-11 sign and started walking towards it.

“I’ll call you right back.”

You hung up and hurried to the corner store, into the warmth and bright artificial light. After smiling politely at the cashier, you wandered slowly around, looking at shelves with feigned interest while holding your phone in your fist.

Ten minutes later, your phone rang.

“Hi!” You answered quickly.

“Hi baby. Okay, here’s what’s happening. I have someone I work with coming to you with a spare key, he should be there in 20 minutes. I’m booked on the next flight back and will be there in about three hours, can you wait?”

“Really?” You squealed, stopping in the store and smiling heavenward, fingers curled under your chin.

You could hear muffled voices in the background before you heard him clearly again. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just go back to the apartment and wait, Nelson will let you in, okay?”

“Oh my god, yes! Okay, I’ll go wait! I can’t wait to see you,” you cried. The thought that he was on his way restored the life in your body.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, I fucking love you, I’m crazy about you, I can’t believe this happened,” he rushed out and you gave a half laugh, half sob and started walking out of the store, with the casher looking after his crazy customer with a raised eyebrow.

After hanging up with Chadwick, you headed back out into what had turned into a full snowstorm. The dainty, delicate snowflakes were coming down thick, already covering the street and sidewalks. You carefully picked your way back to Chadwick’s residence in boots that were designed to turn men’s heads and not actually protect you against the elements. At the top of the stairs, there was no awning to protect you, only a thin covering above his door that you huddled against with as much of your scarf around your neck and face to keep you warm and protect your melting makeup.

Finally, in the dark street, you saw two headlights slowing to a stop in front of you, their lights illuminating the swirling snow until they flicked off. From the driver’s side came a trench coated figure of a tall man, who waved to you from the car and you waved back, smiling.

As he got closer you saw he was young and handsome, probably ten years your junior, with a kind, open face and a broad smile.

“Miss,” he made his way up the steps and your hands met in a handshake. “I’m Nelson, I work with Chadwick. He told me to give you these,” he fished in his pocket and dropped a set of keys into your waiting palm.

“I’m so sorry you had to come here, thank you so much,” you smiled gratefully.

He had a cute smile and face and if you were reading it right, he looked a little shy in your presence.

“I hope he gets home soon and there’s no issues landing in this snowstorm,” he remarked in a friendly tone, but the thought struck you with dread. He continued, “Chadwick talks about you all the time. He was so excited to see you this weekend and here you are!” He announced, shaking his head as he laughed and you couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“It’s pretty stupid of us,” you agreed, rolling your eyes, “Sometimes sharing the same brain doesn’t always work in our favour.”

“Well he’ll be glad to see you. I’ll get going now, but maybe try the key to make sure it works?”

“Oh! Yes, good idea.” You took out the key and tested it left and right until you felt it pass the resistance and unlock. You turned the doorknob with ease and gave a whoop of relief. “Aha!”

He clapped his hands together. “Perfect! Alright, I’ll leave you to it.”

“You’re a lifesaver Nelson, thank you,” you waved as he retreated back down the steps, hunkering against the wind and cold on his way back to his car.

You wasted no time eagerly opening the door and closing it behind you, enclosing you in darkness. Your frozen fingers flipped up the nearest light switch and you looked around to take it in.

Parts of the space you were familiar with, like the furniture where Chadwick sometimes sat during your FaceTime calls. The house was simple with minimal clutter. Your man was relentlessly neat and orderly and it made you smile to see how he lived in his home away from home. Everything you looked at gave you a little thrill as you imagined him in the space, making coffee in the kitchen, lounging on the couch. You spotted his drums and guitar, and imagined him winding down each night, his dexterous fingers and beautiful mind working together to create melody and rhythm.

You unwound your damp scarf and found a place to hang it along with your jacket, near some of his. You couldn’t help walking up to one of them and sinking your face into the soft lining inside, seeking out and finding your favourite cologne in the world, Chadwick’s scent.

It was 7:00, and if all went according to plan, you would have him just in time for you to climb into bed together. With time to kill, you spent the next hour snooping all over, savouring every little hint of how Chadwick lived. His clothes, neatly folded. A scattering of his favourite accessories across the top of his dresser, grouped by type – rings, bracelets. You always admired each piece he chose and how he put it together with his outfits. There was a worn script on his desk. You flipped through it, not reading it but absorbing his handwritten notes, the familiarity of it warming you.

You were like a junkie, hunting around for little hits of him to tide you over. After a while, you freshened up your makeup, and decided to take off your dress and sheathe your body behind one of his button up shirts. You looked with approval at the tempting silhouette of your curves hidden behind the long, oversized masculine shirt, which reached just past the top of your lacy garters. You posed in front of the mirror, taking yourself in from the front, the back, the side. Yeah, I look fucking hot.

You wandered downstairs and found a comfortable spot on his couch. Outside the window, the storm continued, causing snow to catch on the corners of the windows. You couldn’t help but imagine how much cozier you would be wrapped up with your man on the couch, listening to the howling wind outside.

The time got closer to 10:00, the hours made bearable by social media and games on your phone. The howling storm never let up; the snow clinging to the window now blanketed the bottom half.

Nelson’s words came back to you. “I hope there’s no issue landing in this snowstorm.”

The idea nagged in your mind, so you searched up the airport website, and the moment you did you saw big red text that made your heart sink: Delays expected due to snowfall. Please check the flight number for updated flight status.

You swore as you discovered every single flight from New York delayed by at least an hour.

The thought of Chadwick stranded in the air made you ache. All you wanted was to be by his side, you missed him so much it hurt. Come to me, baby. I’m waiting. I promise it will be worth it.

Your spot on the couch was catching a chill from the window, and you started to shiver. You finally stood up and stretched your legs, turned off the lights, and trudged your way upstairs to wait on his bed.

The bedside table lamp filled the room with soft light. As the night wore on, the adrenaline of your trip wore off and you were fighting to keep your eyelids from drooping. His bed smelled like him and was topped with soft blankets, inviting you to crawl under.

Well, maybe I’ll just close my eyes... was the last thought you remembered having.

~ ~ ~

A plane-full of frustrated, tired, cranky passengers were grating on Chadwick’s last shred of patience and now more than ever, he wished he could be anonymous.

He hadn’t been able to book a first class seat, and once word got out that the King of Wakanda was on board, there was no end to the attention, pictures, small talk, and autographs. The discovery of his presence seeming to buoy the spirits of everyone on board, but left Chadwick a husk of a human being.

As soon as he was able to, he pulled out his phone, anxious to check in with you since the flight had been delayed, and read your last text before typing his own.

Y/N: the snow is really bad. I hope it doesn’t delay you to me. I’m in your apartment, waiting for you. Hurry 😘 Chadwick: Just landed. Baby I’m so sorry. be there soon.

He pocketed the phone and rushed past every passenger from young to old and avoided eye contact with all of them. It didn’t stop people from pulling out their phones to snap pictures of him or throwing him a hearty Wakanda Forever.

All Chadwick could think about was you. You were in his bones, his blood, the essence of you a part of his heart and soul. Being so sure that he was seconds from crushing your warm body against his only to have it pulled away was soul destroying. Since that moment, Chadwick had been singularly focused on making it to you as soon as he could. Sunday would come fast and he wanted as many chances to kiss you and hold you and fuck you as he could have.

Walking outside, he raised his arms to shield against the blowing, swirling wind. Visions of your warm body in his bed kept Chadwick company as he waited for a car, occasionally blowing warm air on his hands and rubbing them together. The Uber came immediately, and he settled in the backseat for the drive home with only a few polite words exchanged.

He hadn’t gotten a text back from you. Chadwick checked the time and smiled. 11:00. You were definitely asleep. You became narcoleptic after a certain hour and could fall asleep anywhere. Were you draped on his couch? Or tucked into bed? He couldn’t wait to find out. As long as he got to look at you and hold you, he could wait until you were rested to be inside you.

With most other people he had a short temper, but when it came to you, he had all the patience in the world.

The roads were bad, necessitating a slow and careful ride through the empty streets. When the car stopped, Chadwick thanked his driver and re-entered the nasty storm for only a few short steps up to his door.

At first glance, there seemed to be no evidence of you. All of the lights were off, and the apartment was silent as a mouse. He soon discovered a pair of tall black boots and your jacket and scarf, hanging next to his. Chadwick ran his hand gently over the scarf, as gently as if he were actually touching you. This was the closest he’d been to your body in over a month. He could hardly breathe with anticipation for the real thing.

Chadwick toed off his boots and placed his jacket over yours, blanketing the smaller garment in his.

He could sense you upstairs.

He hurried up to the second floor. His bedroom door was open a few inches, but it was enough of a gap for him to finally lay his eyes on you.

Chadwick lifted his knuckles to his mouth and bit it.

You were fast asleep on your back with your head turned to your side, and a feast for Chadwick’s eyes. Each of your long legs were encased in silk stockings, connected with ribbon like straps to a cinched garter belt, naturally drawing his hungry eyes to your waist. A pretty pair of panties hid his favourite spot, but your breasts were bulging forth for Chadwick’s eyes to devour in a revealing bra. He spotted little bows, adding girlish flourishes to a very grown up outfit. The final touch that made Chadwick inexplicably weak in the knees was his own button up shirt, worn like a robe but half-off your arms. He suspected you’d put it on for warmth but shrugged out if it in your sleep, to the benefit of Chadwick’s eyes and hardening dick.

He had to talk himself out of waking you up for the fucking of your life.

The closer he got to you, he could see how deeply you were sleeping and hear your steady, even breathing. Chadwick tried to avoid gawking at your delicious skin and curves as he crept towards the bedside table lamp to flick it off.

He quietly removed all of his clothes while thinking unsexy thoughts to banish his erection, but his eyes kept wandering over to your lingerie clad form and he muttered a swear as he went to the bathroom to take care of it.

With the door firmly closed, he let out a shivery breath at the touch of his fingers on his dick. He stifled his moan and leaned against the wall with one hand as his right hand got to work. It was easy to get there. One look at your body and he could remember everything. Your sounds, your sweet smell, your softness and warmth. You had a way of whimpering his name in your moment of climax that made him weak and he thought about it, how much he wanted to make you come with more than just his voice.

Just thinking about spending an entire day in bed with you was enough to get Chadwick there. He came with a low grunt, all of him tightening with the spasms coming from his dick, and the relief was immediate.

He returned to find you still asleep. Chadwick climbed on the bed, observing you carefully for signs of wakefulness, and removed some of the pillows that were between you. Your heat was so close to him now. Ignoring the covers, Chadwick scooched up beside you and molded himself into your side, suppressing a groan as he did. You were soft and warm and right there, real as his own self. He scooped you into him, shifting your head onto his chest and as he did, you began to wake up.

“Chadwick?” He heard your confused sounds and saw your eyes open.

“Oh my god, Chadwick!” He felt your body surround his as you crushed against him with a hug. Your mouth was on his neck, and then his chin, cheeks and finally his lips, ecstatically kissing him over and over.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he stroked your back and laughed, responding to your excitement. “Shh, go back to sleep baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chadwick surrounded you, criss crossing his arms across your back and you hummed contentedly as you melted into him. He rested his chin against your forehead and took a deep breath in and out, making both of your bodies move before he settled.

Both of you felt a contentment too deep in your bones to explain at being reunited. All of the stress and delay of getting to each other was forgotten. He smoothed the top of your head, kissing it again and you drifted back to sleep.

#Chadwick Boseman #Chadwick Boseman x Reader #Chadwick Boseman x Reader fanfic #Chadwick Boseman fic #Chadwick Boseman fanfic #Chadwick Boseman fanfiction #Chadwick Boseman imagine

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disruptedvice · 6 years

Text

June bug

GOTG fic Peter x Gamora Summary: In which Peter Quill is from the south, and this shows when he has a four year old of his own. Or: his daughter asks why her daddy calls her June Bug sometimes.

“He-ey, little June bug!” Peter smiles, swooping up his daughter in his arms and tickling her to pieces.

“Daddy! Daddy!” She protests, smile so wide it’s threatening to split open her face. “Stop! No more tickle monster!” She shrieks, laughing as much as a four year old can, still squirming to get out of his path, and trying to tickle him back.

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June Bug

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“He-ey, little June bug!” Peter smiles, swooping up his daughter in his arms and tickling her to pieces.

Elspeth squeals with pitches of laughter, squirming as she tries to stop the tickle monster, but her green little fingers and adorable dimpled cheeks are no match for an experienced tickler. Small, grubby little hands snatch at his own, but he’s too fast, tickling her up and down into a fit of giggles.

“Aw, but I have to get in my tickle monster quota for the day!” He pouts, his fingers stopping their nimble assault on her rolly polly sides.

She gives him a stern, no nonsense look, that she definitely picked up from her momma.

“Fine, fine,” he pretends to huff. “I surrender. June bug: one. Tickle monster: zero.”

She smiles them, looking so proud at beating him, with a look that she definitely learned from him.

“Why do you call me June bug?” Elspeth asks suddenly, eyes wide and brimming with curiosity. She knows where a lot of her nicknames come from. Els comes from Elspeth. Baby comes from when she used to be a baby (she’s a big girl now, but daddy calls her baby sometimes, but she doesn’t mind- daddy calls momma baby too, and momma’s the biggest girl she knows).

She gets called kid and kiddo a lot too (sometimes when momma leaves ship, she tells someone ‘make sure those two kids don’t get into any trouble’ pointing at daddy and her, but momma’s smiling all teasin’ like when she does it). When she asks uncle Rocket why he calls her pip-squeak, he says it’s because she calls him uncle Ro-Ro.

And while people other than daddy call her baby and sweetie and sweetheart (mostly momma), daddy’s the only one who calls her June bug. She doesn’t know why. He never calls anyone else June bug either. The only thing she’s ever heard of being June bug is her.

Peter has to think for a second. He’s always called her June bug. He never, like, intentionally started calling her that, or giving her that nickname- it just came out naturally, on its own. He’s always called her June bug.

“That’s what my mom called me,” he answers, realizing his mom had a lot of affectionate nicknames for him. Of course there was Starlord, that one was the most special and dear to his heart. The most common one too, in happy and serious moments, smiling or sad, but always loving. She tucked him in and kissed him goodnight after a bedtime story with Starlord. She danced with him to the songs on the radio as Starlord too.

But he distinctly remembers his mom saying ‘come here my little June bug’, and coming at him as the tickle monster, sweeping him up in her arms just as he’d done to his own daughter.

“Why did she call you June bug?” Is Elspeth’s immediate and quite frankly predictable question (he should’ve seen it coming). “What’sa June bug?”

She knew a bug was a thing. Maybe June bug was a thing too.

“Well, it’s a bug from earth. Where your papa’s from,” he explains, knowing she’s at least familiar with the concept of bugs. Lotsa planets had their own variety of insects, as if Drax hadn’t affectionately called Mantis bug lady enough over the years. “They were about this big,” he holds up the approximate size of the inch long insect between his thumb and forefinger. “And they flew around like crazy. Used to hear them bumping into the screen door at night whenever we left the back door open cause it was so hot out. They’d just go ‘thunk’ ‘thunk’ ‘thunk’ right into the door,” he told her, mining out the bugs flying right into it again and again. “They only came out in the summer. June is one of the summer months where I’m from. So June bugs were the things flying around everywhere on summer nights.”

“Why’d she call you June bug, though? Cause you fly around everywhere too? Did’ja run into doors a lot?”

Peter laughs, choosing to focus on the innocence in his daughter’s question, not on the fact that his mom had no idea that he’d ever fly around like this one day. “No, she called me June bug cause my birthday’s in June.”

“You have a birthday?!” The little girl gasps. “How come you never told me?!” She sounds so aghast, maybe even offended. It was true, though. Elspeth’s birthday was the only one they celebrated on the ship. Half the team didn’t even know when they were born.

Everyone on the team either didn’t know when they were born, and never celebrated birthdays, or if they ever had, they hadn’t celebrated their birthday in decades.

Hell, Peter didn’t even know when June was according to the galactic system. He wasn’t even sure he could remember what day he was born on, according to earth time. He hadn’t celebrated his birthday since he was eight years old. To be honest, a lot of the traditions they used to celebrate her birthday came from Drax’s homeworld. Peter remembered gifts and cake from his own childhood birthdays. Much of what Elspeth knew of birthday celebrations came from the surprisingly child friendly traditions from Drax’s home planet.

When Elspeth starts squirming out of his arms and pushing on his chest with rather determined grunting, he sets her down on the floor before she starts kicking and scrambling to get out of him holding her up high in the air.

The moment her feet hit the ground, she races off to the other room.

“Mommy! Mommy!” She yells, running into the kitchen.

Peter pops his head in behind her, seeing Elspeth has already made it to where her mother is sitting comfortably at the kitchen table. She has her hands on Gamora’s knees, bouncing up and down on her toes, while Gamora waits to receive the news her daughter was excited to tell her about/shouting at her for while Peter steps into the kitchen.

“Daddy has a secret birthday!” She shouts, all scandalized in that bright eyes and childish way.

“He does?” Gamora asks, smiling, humoring her daughter, and giving Peter a look at the same time, not quite sure what’s going on.

“Yeah! He has a birthday too! And I was named after his birthday!”

Gamora gives Peter another look, this one much less amused- they both knew that Elspeth was named after Gamora’s mother. Peter looks wide eyed at their daughter’s claim.

“No, I did not say that,” he corrects hastily, very alarmed by his wife’s expression.

“Nickname, sweetheart, nickname,” he reminds Elspeth, coming closer to ruffle her hair. Then, whispering over her head, he clarifies “She asked where the nickname June bug came from.”

Gamora’s eyes flash in understanding.

“Yup. Daddy was born on June, Momma. I’m nicknamed after his birthday,” she asserts proudly.

Gamora looks up to Peter for confirmation to see if Elspeth had a correct understanding, and Peter vehemently shook his head.

“Well, sounds like an interesting story,” Gamora says, effortlessly lifting their daughter in her arms and seating her in her lap.

And then his two girls both look up to him with puppy dog eyes for a retelling of the origin story of June Bug.

Peter sighs. “You weren’t ‘nicknamed’ after my birthday. You were nicknamed after me. It used to be my nickname. I only call you June bug cause I used to be called June bug. And my mom called me June bug because I was born in June.”

“Is tacking bug onto words a Terran form of endearment I’m unaware of? Your mother called you an insect as an expression of affection?” Gamora asks, genuinely curious. Just when she thought she got a hang of Peter’s human-isms (‘honey’ he assured her was something sweet, and as such a perfect thing to call someone you loved) he threw in another curve ball. To be honest, she never really thought of asking where the nickname June bug came from. It was already normal by then. She just wrote it off as some nonsense thing she still didn’t quite understand, like why he called their daughter ‘sweetie’ AND ‘sweet pea’ even though they seemed nearly identical, and she still didn’t understand the difference and why he used one and not the other sometimes. Among his list of colorful terms of endearment for their daughter are ‘sunshine’, ‘grumpy pants’, ‘cutie patootie’, ‘little miss grumpy pants’, and the normal ones that Gamora uses like ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart’.

He has so many nicknames for Elspeth, she doesn’t know how even he keeps track of them. She finds them all rather adorable.

But she’s never thought to ask about June bug specifically. She didn’t know that it used to belong to him. She didn’t know that his mother called him June bug. She didn’t know that nickname was from Meredith.

Now that she’s heard, though, she’s wondering if bug is an affectionate word like ‘baby’ or ‘honey’.

“No, no. June bug is a type of bug. It’s a species. That was really common where I grew up. They were called that cause they came out in June. So did I. And that’s where I got the nickname June bug. You got it from me,” he says, bending down on his haunches so he’s eye level with Elspeth, and boops her on the nose.

Gamora nods in understanding, thinking she might still have some more questions, but she’ll ask him later tonight, when they’re alone. She has enough of the story for now. She can’t help but be filled with warmth whenever she learns something new about Peter, even after all this time.

“See, I told you he had a birthday,” Elspeth says to her mother.

“Most people do, darling,” she responds with a chuckle.

Her daughter looks up at her in surprise. “Do you have a birthday?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Yes. Myself included. Most people do have birthdays, or a hatching day of some sort. Drax, Rocket, and Mantis have birthdays too. We all do.”

Somehow, her daughter looks even more scandalized by the news, like it was some big secret they were keeping from her- and oh, now she’s pouting.

“Why did nobody tell me?!” She whines. “Why is everybody hiding birthdays?”

“Nobody was hiding birthdays, Els. We just don’t celebrate them, that’s all.”

“Why don’t you celebrate birthdays?” She asks, looking between her two parents.

Peter and Gamora share a frantic look with each other for a second, trying to silently come up with a collaborative story, because the real answer was much more complicated than could be explained.

“We did, but when we were younger. Now… we’re grownups?” Is the offered excuse. For why none of the team celebrates birthdays.

“I don’t wanna grow up! I wanna keep having birthdays!” The four year old exclaims, looking like she’s about to cry. And now both her parents are really panicking.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Gamora says comfortingly at the same time Peter says “You don’t have to.”

“Why’d you stop having birthdays if you didn’t have to? Why am I the only one who gets a birthday? That’s not fair. Why don’t you guys get to have a birthday? Why do I have a birthday now, and you guys don’t? Why do I get a birthday?” Elspeth asks, partly out of concern for her parents, and partly because she’s afraid her birthday might get taken away.

“We all chose to stop having birthdays before we met, dear,” Gamora tells her, lovingly tucking the locks of dark hair behind her ear. “Before your dad and I, uncle Drax and Rocket, and aunt Mantis all met each other. But when you were born, you gave us a reason to celebrate.”

She seems appeased by this answer.

“Mhmm. Now we all get to celebrate your birthday with you. Thanks for that, baby,” Peter says, kissing her on top of the head.

“You’re welcome,” Elspeth replies, already back to smiling.

And, because he couldn't help himself, Peter asks his daughter with a grin “You know who else likes birthdays?”

“Who?”

“The tickle monster!”

“No! Mommy, mommy! Help me!” Elspeth shrieks, already laughing and trying to get up and away onto Gamora’s shoulders before her father gets at her sides.

“Don't worry, I’ll protect you,” she promises, wrapping her daughter up in the biggest bear hug possible, using her arms and curling around her to block any impending tickle attacks.

'love you,’ Peter mouths to her as she bundles their daughter up in her arms.

'love you too’ she mouths back.

#gotg fic #starmora fic #starmora #gamora x peter quill #gotg fanfic #fluff #family #kidfic #one shot #gamora #starlord #Guardians of the Galaxy #my GOTG fics #my fic

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gentleknj · 7 years

Text

ruin the friendship

Pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

Genre: fluff, maybe some slight angst?

Friends to Lovers!au

WARNINGS: mentions of abusive relationship, swearing, and mentions of anxiety/panic attacks. Please do not read if these things are triggering to you, I would rather have 0 readers than harming someone mentally and/or emotionally.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: this is my first blurb, one shot, whatever you want to call it, so don’t mind any mistakes since this is my first. but it is dedicated to one of my lovely mutuals whose birthday is today! i really went all out lmao. happy birthday annie!! i really hope this is okay. enjoy!

Maybe it was the way he couldn’t stand the sleazy guys you always dated, maybe it was the way he thought you were the most beautiful woman on this planet when he first met you. Maybe it was because in the last four years of friendship he had seen you blossom from a girl who kept to herself and was engulfed in anything revolving music to this radiant, extroverted beauty. Whatever it was, it finally pushed Jungkook to do what he was planning tonight.

He stood with his hip resting against the island in the kitchen that doubled as your kitchen table whenever the two of you had nights free to yourselves. But here he was, scrolling through his phone with a hand stuffed in his slacks pocket, dressed to the nines and waiting for you to finally leave your room for the dinner he planned for you “four-year friend anniversary”. His attention was fully on his screen through the photo album of you two over the last year of living together.

“Jungkook!” You shrieked, eyes lit with excitement as you pointed towards the sky, fireworks popping.

He laughed, tilting his head to the side for a moment like he always did before joining you on the grass. The river rushed a few meters away and over twenty meters below as the two of you laid back to enjoy the view. It was the first time he had seen you smile since you had broken up with a boyfriend you had acquired while on a trip with a friend in Ireland. It had lasted long distance for nearly nine months and then you had gotten news that he had slept with other girls because the distance was too much. It made sense, but it hurt. What hurt more was your tears at five in the morning as Jungkook held you for support. That was the first time he saw you cry. And he had to admit, that the view of you laughing and smiling so hard your nose scrunched, was one he’d rather you wore more often.

The colors were vibrant and beautiful, your giggles and excited pointing here and there were just a bonus. He knew then that he wanted to make you smile like that for a long time.

Your heels clicking against the wooden floor were enough to draw a smile to his face. His phone was discarded into his pocket before he stood fully, eyes meeting yours. To say he was at a loss for words would be an understatement. The red of your dress against your skin was more complimentary than when the color is fading into a sunset. Your hair fell in gentle curls on your shoulders, the silk of the dress hugging each of your curves in such a way that left nothing and everything to the imagination. You looked elegant and ethereal and he stood with his mouth agape in response.

“If I did too much, I can change...” You trailed off with a nervous laugh, pink dusting your cheeks as you looked at the ground.

“No, no!” He rushed, startling both of you. “I mean- Y/n, you look… you look gorgeous.” He said with a breathless chuckle, taking your hand in his to spin you around.

His words made the blush on your cheeks darken before you swatted his chest playfully, scrunching your nose with a wide smile. “You don’t look half bad yourself, Jeon.”

Now it was his turn to blush, but not for long enough. The door was opened and held for you to exit first, your coat offered to you like a scene straight out of a romance movie. He wanted everything to be as magical as you had described to him all those long nights ago.

“So, what’s your ideal date?” You asked, leaning against his headboard and popping a grape into your mouth.

Jungkook paused his game, rolling onto his side to look at you fully, his brows knit in confusion. “What?”

“Oh, come on, bunny. You know, like what kind of date would you want to go on with a girl? Like to the movies and then an arcade, or maybe just dinner and a walk home?”

“Where did this- okay. Well, I know you won’t stop asking until I tell you, so. I guess I would just want to walk around the city at night. See all of the lights and just hold hands.” He answered with as much of a shrug as he could muster given his position.

You dealt him a dramatic eye roll and a grape that hit his head with a ‘smack’, which bounced off the bed. A loud giggle bubbled between you two before you looked at him with a dreamy smile, grape bag gripped to your chest melodramatically.

“Well, simpleton, I think my dream date would to be to go to a fancy restaurant, dressed to the nines. Glamorous, you know?” You closed your eyes now to imagine the scene, Jungkook taking full advantage to admire the way you spoke so passionately about a fanaticized date. “And then I would want to go back to his place, drink a little and take off all of my makeup and overly glamorous outfit to just play a scary video game. Now that, that would be a really good date.” You checked the time on your phone before jumping to your feet, jolting the poor doe-eyed boy from his dreamy state. “Fuck, its nearly 2 am, I need to get back to my dorm before Sunmi beats me to death.” Another grape was shoved into your mouth before you grabbed your things, turning haphazardly as you pulled on your shoes. “See you in dance class tomorrow, bunny.” You said before swallowing the remnants of your grape.

Before you left that night, you kissed his forehead and reminded him to take his medicine before falling asleep. That was the night he knew he fell in love with you.

“After you.” Jungkook’s voice was soft, his hand resting on the small of your back as you two checked in at the restaurant.

“Jeon, this is too fancy. Why are you doing all of this?” You whispered as you glanced around at the aristocrats and inevitable CEO’s that littered the place.

Suddenly you felt underdressed, as if everyone was staring at you and knew that you both were just college seniors just trying to get by. The brown eyed boy noticed the fear on your face and automatically stood between you and your vision of the people sat around at the various tables. “Y/n, it’s okay, just trust me, yeah? Pretend it’s only you and me. We aren’t here to please them anyways, we’re here for our friend-iversary dinner, remember?”

A small bit of tension fell from your shoulders as you took Jungkook’s hand, nodding softly. “Let’s go have some bomb ass food, just the two of us, yeah?” You said, cheeks flushing pink as the infamous bunny smile overtook Jungkook’s features.

It was nearly 1 am but with your dance final tomorrow, you couldn’t mess it up. Your partner and ex-boyfriend, Yugyeom, was supposed to be here. But he just left your messages on read and left you to the wolves. Jungkook walked back into the studio with a bag from the corner store, offering you the choice between the caffeinated drinks before taking a long swig of water. He had come around 10 pm when you had your melt down. Your partner flat-out canceled and if you showed up without one you would automatically fail.

“Take a break, yeah? Your part is fine, I need to finish figuring out mine, so I don’t ruin this for you.” Before you could protest he had gently nudged you onto the couch in the far end of the studio, hitting play on the stereo.

He worked through the entire night to perfect the choreography you had given him, so when you woke up from your unintentional slumber at 7am, it was genuinely breath taking to see him have the steps down perfectly. As you sat up with a slightly embarrassed hunch to your shoulders accompanied by proud clapping, his tired eyes met yours in the mirror. You could’ve sworn that was the biggest smile you had ever seen him muster.

Later that morning, the final went better than you could’ve hoped and prayed for. Your professor even stood up to applaud your hard work before moving onto the next student.

The table you two were sat at had a view of the night life of Seoul, the cars zooming by in blurs and people walking the sidewalks with no recognition for anyone else’s world but their own. You stared out the large window at the view below, hand moving to blindly grasp your glass of water as Jungkook admired you in the low light. The small and few freckles that decorated your arms, chest and neck were counted before his gaze rested on your lips, pink and plump. As you turned your attention back to him, his eyes fell to the menu, the anxiety rising in his chest at the situation.

Who was he kidding? Why did he go through with this batshit plan? Aren’t you still on and off with that asshole Jeongyeon set you up with three months ago, what was his name again? Kim something? Shit. Jungkook glazed over the menu, ordering whatever the waiter claimed to be the special this evening and turned his gaze to the city buzzing below, the only thing buzzing louder than the thoughts that danced around his head. The discomfort was evident in his body language, off putting the once comfortable and happy mood shared between the two of you.

The first weekend after the two of you moved in together was the most memorable. Jungkook had bought the new Resident Evil game. Considering you two were horror junkies, he deemed it fitting for the two of you to stay up all night playing it. But throughout the first hour of the game, you chucked the controller at him one too many times during combat sequences. So, you two made a pact, he fought, you solved puzzles.

Everything had been going just fine, you solved the puzzles that Lucas left around for the birthday party sequence and ended up not getting Jungkook killed. But you hid like a baby an hour before when ‘Mama’ was crawling along the ceiling with her tummy full of bugs and nastiness exposed and grotesques. The small whimpers that fell from your mouth whenever she got close to Ethan, his character, fed the brown eyed boy’s ego. Earlier, he called you a ‘wuss’ and a ‘scaredy cat’, so your terrified reactions caused a smug smile to crack onto his face. But of course, you couldn’t see that, your head was hidden behind his broad shoulders and cocooned beneath his comforter. But it didn’t make his chest swell any less knowing that you took comfort in him, even if it was from a fictional, animated character.

By the time another puzzle presented itself, Jungkook was blindly handing the controller behind him for a few minutes before realizing you were snoring softly at the top of the bed, socks pulled off sleepily as you were curled in his blankets, hair strewn across his pillow. He would never tell you, but that was his favorite view of you. You looked so peaceful when you slept, slightly pouting, but nonetheless you looked as if the world hadn’t troubled you in your lifetime. As if nothing every broke your heart, or broke you into sweats just before finals came around and stressed you beyond human belief. He smiled to himself before turning the system and television off, pulling the blanket that had fallen onto the floor to rest on top of you before padding to your room with a yawn.

As he tucked himself under your blankets, the smell of your coconut and cherry blossom array of products lulled him to sleep faster than he’d like to admit to himself. But you gave him a kind of comfort and reassurance he hadn’t felt since his parents left him.

“Hey, are you alright?’ Your voice broke him from his thoughts, the smell of fresh food and your soft, warm hand on top of his invading his senses.

“Huh? Oh- uh yeah, sorry I was just thinking about something.” He lied through a false smile, removing his hand from yours nervously.

His attention was on his food and light conversation with you, asking how your day was and if you that one teacher of yours was still giving you trouble. Instead of answering him, you just frowned in his direction, making as much of an effort as he was at the failing and overwhelmingly awkward situation. A heavy sigh fell from his lips at the realization that he was screwing up his own entire plan. His fork was set on the plate with a louder than anticipated clang, drawing your attention and a few others from surrounding tables.

“I’m sorry. I have work and school on my mind and I let that get in the way of our dinner. So how about after this, we get some ice cream from the market, the big tub like you like, and we can go play that new game you wanted to try out. As an apology?”

Your signature dramatic eyeroll, one of his favorite things you did, made its reappearance before your wide smile made its way onto your features, nodding softly. “Fine, but you’re paying for the ice cream. I already bought the game on your console when I was getting ready.”

“Sneaky, I like it.” He playfully dropped an obnoxious wink, causing the two of you to laugh before finishing off your meal.

The bill was paid and instead of making you walk all the way back to the apartment in those awfully high and skinny heels, he pulled out a pair of those disposable flats he had bought off of some infomercial in hopes they would work well enough to get you home with less pain than those heels were giving you.

“You’re lucky I love you, or else I would have laughed and left you to walk home on your own with these disastrous looking flats.” You smiled, changing your shoes with a relieved sigh.

“Oh, you would’ve, huh? I can walk faster than you could have in those heels, so it would’ve been you alone.” He challenged, ignoring the three words that made his heart beat so loud he swore that all of the city could hear it beating.

A knock fell upon the apartment door, curiosity filling the tall boy. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, not at this hour and definitely not with the thunderstorm raging on outside. Against better judgement, he opened the door only to find you drenched and in tears. His mouth couldn’t form words fast enough to beat his actions. His warm arms wrapped around your shaking figure, bringing you much needed warmth as he maneuvered the two of you into his dorm room, thankful his roommate took the night out.

He sat you down with a few towels and the spare winter blanket hidden away in the closet. He sat opposite you now, on the coffee table, furrowed brows and tired eyes. You had begun to explain that Changkyun, your newest boyfriend at the time, had been sleeping with this girl from his medical class. When you walked into his dorm expecting to find him studying or asleep, considering he told you he didn’t feel well and had a test tomorrow and that you shouldn’t come over, you did anyways. And you’d wished you hadn’t. The thermos filled with soup and the bag from the pharmacy filled with a few cold remedies dropped on the floor with a thud, along with your heart, you swore of it. Jungkook was filled with anger, he couldn’t fathom someone doing that, to you, of all people. But instead of heading to that guy’s dorm and bashing his cheating face into the wall, he tucked your wet hair behind your ears and began drying your bangs before moving on to the rest of your hair.

He didn’t want to hear the rest of the story, anger clouding too much of his mind, so instead he opted for giving you some warm clothes of his and turning on a movie he knew would calm you down. But what angered him the most was the countless times he had seen you with bruises, and tonight was no different. The deep purples and blues that blossomed on the left half of your jaw and the finger shaped bruises on your wrist were painful to witness. Jungkook knew this was the last straw for you, that if the physical torment wasn’t enough to make you leave a man you loved, the emotional torment he caused tonight sure was.

The doe-eyed boy handed you a small, home-made ice pack before nodding for you to take his bed for the night, denying any counter argument you had for him lying on the floor. It stayed silent, save for the gentle hum of the drama playing on the television to keep the two of you occupied mentally from tonight’s trauma.

Around 3 am, the sound of your muffled yet ragged breathing was enough to tear him from slumber and fill his chest with dread. You had since calmed down as he laid staring at the ceiling, afraid that if he interrupted your attempts to calm yourself down would result in a worse outcome. But his concern grew to be too much and he moved to lay facing the bed, your tired eyes meeting his. “Will you please lay with me?” Your voice barely above a whisper as you wiped your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He paused, sitting up to properly hold your gaze. “My bed isn’t that big though, is that okay?”

You simply nodded and sniffled before retreating to the far side of the bed. The close proximity of your smell and the warmth of your body next to his was enough to calm his nerves but also drive his heart wild. He tried to will away the butterflies that relentlessly flew around in his blood stream as you wrapped yourself around him, cuddling into him out of habit for comfort.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to have an a-attack like that… “You shut your eyes tightly in what he could only assume was anger judging by the change in your expression.

“Hey, listen to me Y/n, don’t you ever apologize for that okay? I chose to be your friend, knowing you have these. We both are a little fucked up, but that’s why we’re best friends, yeah? You can’t control that, and I know it. You know it. It’s okay, you’re okay. Don’t ever apologize to anyone for something you have no control over. If they can’t handle every aspect of you, they don’t deserve you.”

The look of shock and utter appreciation on your face was one that he couldn’t erase, even if he wanted to.

After so many years, you think you’d know Jungkook by now, but you didn’t. You couldn’t see just how madly in love with you he had been all along. He hadn’t kept any girlfriend for longer than four months, and he never slept around with anyone who threw themselves at him at various parties you two would attend. But in stark contrast, you had a grace period of six to eight months before getting involved with another guy, granted each relationship was longer than eight months themselves. That is a few months ago when you had broken up with some ‘what’s his name’ and started having one-night stands. Nearly every night, or so it seemed. It was either you would head to their place and come back early morning, or you would invite them back to your shared apartment and Jungkook would be met with some stranger doing the walk of shame out the front door as the doe-eyed boy made himself coffee. It became routine for months until Jungkook decided enough was enough.

Another night where loud headphones and ear plugs were the only way he was getting through tonight. He knew the last break up tore you in half, which brought this behavior of lending yourself to whatever guy got you drunk and gave you more compliments than you could count. In all the years of knowing you, Jungkook knew you were insecure, only deeming that sharing your body with someone was something that should be done with someone you trust and care about. But the drunken moans coming from the other room were too much.

His fist collided with your bedroom door twice, waiting for the two of you to stop making noise and open the door, and when you did, the two of you were nearly fully clothed still. Thankfully. But bile still rose in Jungkook’s chest before his anger got the best of him, his hand grasping the guy’s shirt before escorting the drunken fool out of the apartment.

“What the fuck, Jeon.” You stated, rather than actually asking him the question.

“I should ask you the same, Y/l/n.” He rubbed his face before crossing his arms firmly over his chest, disappointment riddling his usually happy face. “I don’t know who is standing in my hallway right now, but that’s not my best friend.”

The alcohol smell on you was strong enough to reach him from across the room. Your glossy eyes and drunken frame resting against the hallway wall was a heartbreaking sight. This wasn’t you, this wasn’t his best friend nor the girl he was in love with. But it was. His anger subsided as you frowned, tears threatening to spill but his hands gently took yours, ushering you to the bathroom beside your room before any tears could fall. You sat half-coherently on the closed toilet as he ran a hot shower for you, helping you remove your makeup before instructing you to take a shower, his figure disappearing behind the now closed door. He sat on your bed for an hour as he waited for you to emerge in nothing but a towel, a slightly soberer, but clean mess.

He could’ve swore he sighed more times tonight than he ever has in his life, but he helped you pick out clothes to wear to bed before leaving you to change and hopefully find your own way into a slumber.

The next day he had woke far before you did and took pity on the hangover you were bound to be feeling the instant you awoke. He fought with himself the entire hour he took to get ready, ‘should I leave her something to help the hang over?’ and, ‘No, she can nurse her hang over herself’. In the end, he left you hangover soup, courtesy his grandmother’s recipe, and Aspirin with a neatly written note of ‘I’ll be home later’ before leaving for his classes that day. You hadn’t called or texted him after you woke, too consumed in your own guilt as you recalled some of what happened last night. Through your drunken haze you had managed to remember the look on his face when you stood drunkenly in the hallway. You later told Jimin that it hurt worse than any break up had, just knowing you disappointed him. But Jungkook and Jimin were just as close of friends as you two were so it was no surprise when he got home he immediately hugged you.

Since then, you hadn’t wandered home at 6 am, clothes disheveled and hangover apparent. You actually seemed to be getting closer to one another. Jungkook could feel his heart soaring every time you would scrunch your nose in laughter at him, every time you would come in at 2 am and asked to cuddle because you had a bad dream. But as far as he knew, the feelings weren’t reciprocated, and he could tell by your actions that the love you felt for him was platonic, that any hope he had of you feeling the same way was out of reach. He shook the feeling of self-doubt on his mind as the two of you entered the G-25 beside the entrance to your apartment building, quietly greeting the high school cashier with a polite smile.

“Which flavor should we get this time?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ears as you peered into the freezer.

“Hey, I’m only buying. You get to decide the flavor, remember?” He chuckled, glancing at you before shyly turning his attention to the ice cream.

“Yes, but if you’re going to be eating it with me then you need to like the flavor as well, dummy.”

He groaned playfully in response with a shake of his head, his brown fringe falling into his eyes in the process. You laughed at his childishness, turning to gently brush the hair from his eyes. The two of you turned back towards the freezer, deep shades of pink blooming onto both of your cheeks. Silence befell the two of you and he could’ve sworn you could hear his heart coming to a stop before settling on a new flavor to try, the brown eyed boy shyly paying soon after. He still held the door open for you as you both left the G-25, and he also held the door open for you to the apartment building as well as the apartment itself.

“Why exactly are we going to this stupid beach party anyways?” Jungkook spoke as his eyes rolled heavenward, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his shorts.

“Because there will be free food, alcohol and fireworks. And Jin said his friends were bringing surfboards.”

“And the catch?”

You pouted softly before sighing, arms folding over your chest as you stepped in front of him just before you reached the sand; stopping the two of you from progressing. “It’s a couples thing…” You mumbled, turning your eyes to the ground. “I really wanted to come, I haven’t been able to hang out with Jin or Hoseok or Sunmi and Jeongyeon like this in a while. We don’t have to pretend to be a couple, but we had to show up together.”

“Are you sure that’s the real reason?” his eyebrow cocked up at your innocent expression.

“Well…I was also told that Yugyeom was here… And I wanted to show him that I’m better now. That I don’t need him, you know?”

“But if it’s a couples only party, wouldn’t he be with his new girlfriend then?”

“Yes,” you frowned, rolling your eyes with a sigh. “I also wanted to see who I should be pitying now. He won’t keep her for very long, if I know anything about him, it’s that he genuinely gets bored very quickly.”

“Fine, but you’re buying my barbeque for this.” He said as he copied your eyeroll, only more playfully. He draped an arm around your shoulders before ushering you both towards the people grouped together by the shoreline.

Once inside the warmth of your apartment, the two of you immediately went to dress down into something utterly comfortable and far warmer than your classy attire. Once the doe-eyed boy was dressed, he left the door to his room open before setting up the usual. He tilted his head to the side for a moment as he thought about the weight of tonight, how this very confession has been aching to tumble off his lips for the longest time. The lights were then promptly turned off, spoons armed beside the tub of ice cream as he finished the installation of the game. You padded in a few minutes later in the yellow sweater Jungkook had given you many, many months ago. The sight was enough to stun him into a signature wide-eyed, mouth agape reaction that had a smug smile tugging at your lisp.

“Remember this one?” You joked, modeling the oversized sweater.

“Didn’t my grandmother think we were dating because you came down on Christmas morning in my clothes?” Laughter vibrated through his chest as he moved to stand in front of you.

“Yeah. I remember her face of disappointment at first though,” Soon enough, you were in a fit of laughter as well. “She thought we had sex in your old bedroom the night before. All because I couldn’t go home for the holidays.”

The laughter bubbled into wide smiles for a while, comfortable silence engulfing the two of you. Jungkook felt his heart rate rise in that moment, the sight of you in nothing but his sweater and shorts, hair in a high ponytail; smile on your face and eyes on him and only him. You both held eye contact for a while, the only thing breaking it was the loud sound of the game menu popping up after everything installed.

The theme park was packed for a week night, the excitement for the season thick in the atmosphere. Halloween week at Everland was bound to be congested with people but this was overwhelming. As much as Jungkook liked to play off his anxieties of public gatherings like this, he couldn’t hide this one time.

You and he had made plans to finally come here for their zombie runs, and horrifying attractions for a good night’s scare before his favorite season came to an end. But tonight, his anxiety had other plans. The tightness in his chest was what started the attack and the panicked look in his eyes gave you chills. The way you pulled him to the side and away from public view and held his face between your hands was something he wouldn’t forget. Your eyes never left his, his hands resting on your knees as you were both knelt to the ground.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can leave if you’d-“

“No, we ca-came here to have fu-fun” He stuttered through troubled breathing. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he struggled to calm his own breathing, growing angry at himself for ruining your night.

“Remember what you told me? Don’t get angry at yourself over this, Kook. It’s okay, take deep breaths, I’m not going anywhere. It’s just you and me.”

You repeated the last sentence a few times in the small span of his mild anxiety attack, alternating between allowing him to use your hand as something to squeeze onto and combing your finger through his hair. The feeling of your warm fingers through his messy locks was focused on, the feeling of you being close made the ringing in his ears slow to a halt. Minutes passed with you two completely unaware of the bustle of people around you. It took a few minutes until he was able to stand fully without his body shaking. Guilt consumed him when your eyes met his, the concern oozing from your features.

“Thank you.” His voice coming out softer than anticipated before you nodded sympathetically.

Before the two of you carried on that night to get the absolute piss scared out of you, you pulled him into the tightest hug your smaller frame could muster. He quietly liked the way you fit against him, but he deemed that to be too awkward to even think about mentioning at any point in time aloud. But the three words begged to be spilled from his lips.

Outlast 2 had proven to be more gore-filled and horror driven than either of you anticipated. The same routine presented itself, whenever the anticipation was too high, and the character had to stealth through a section to avoid being killed horribly, the controller was thrown at Jungkook. He was amused every time you dug your feet beneath the covers and shielded your eyes from the inevitable tense atmosphere the game presented. Only this time, he turned to face you, pausing the game.

His heart hammered out of his chest as his smile faded into him drawing his lip between his teeth. When the sound of the game came ceased to exist, you peered at him over your hands, confused. “Is everything okay?” You asked, your brows knitting together.

“Not really.” He started, resting the controller on the floor before shifting to face you. “I’ve had something on my mind all night. Well, for so much longer than that actually.” Fuck, this was more anxiety inducing than he thought. He willed away the shaking his body screamed to do, he used every ounce of self-control he could muster to not start hyper-ventilating. This could ruin the friendship. It could ruin everything. God damnit, just tell her. “I love you.” He rushed, blood rushing to his head as the three words finally fell from his lips. It was euphoric almost. Almost.

The look on your face made his heart sink to his stomach, his eyes searching yours for any emotion only to come up empty handed. He took your silence as a chance to continue.

“I don’t mean it the way you meant it earlier. I mean it the way you meant it when you said it to those stupid guys you’ve dated. It was so hard seeing them treat you so horribly. And I really didn’t always see you this way, I promise, or maybe I did, I don’t know. But when I look at you, I want to kiss you. I want to hold your hand and make you feel like the world revolves around you. Because, truthfully, my world does revolve around you. And I know there is more than a 90% chance that you are going to pack up and leave out of pure awkwardness, but you need to know this. I love you. I have for a while now, and I can’t keep it to myself any longer. I’m sorry.” He rushed, his thoughts verbally vomiting themselves in front of you for you to pick at and soak in.

Five minutes passed in silence. Ten. Fifteen. His heart was about to rip its way out of his body and run into the river at this point, too ashamed at his choice of timing. What if you were with another guy already? What if you weren’t running for the hills out of pity? He probably looked like a damned fool right now, pouring his heart out and-

“Is that why you set this all up tonight?” You asked, your voice just above a whisper but enough to draw him from his thoughts. His eyes refused to move from their fixed gaze on his folded hands. If only he saw the red that bloomed on your cheeks.

He didn’t trust himself to speak, afraid if he did he would combust or have an anxiety attack that would surely pop his lungs like an over filled balloon. So, he did the next best thing, he avoided your gaze and nodded. Silence engulfed the room again, the feeling of you shifting in the bed made him sick. Don’t you dare throw up. Don’t cry, don’t-

And suddenly your warm lips were flush against his, your eyes shut gracefully as his shot wide open. He didn’t know whether to kiss back but once you drew away, a blush tainting your cheeks, he gently took your face between his hands and pressed your lips together once more.

Time seemed to stand still. The earth moved and collapsed and was reborn all over again. Yes, he had been in love before. Yes, he had kissed other women and felt sparks. But he had never felt contentment bubble in his chest the way he did when the two of you pulled away with shy smiles.

“Jeon?” A smile cracked on your face, eyes meeting. “I love you too, idiot.”

masterlist

a/n: thank you for reading this and i hope you enjoyed it! if you did, please let me know and again thank you lil peaches X

#jungkook blurb #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts blurb #jungkook imagines #this is my first time posting something like this and im so nervous tbh hfkjdhgs #gonna tag all the boys imagines bc thats the thing i see everyone do so #jin imagine #yoongi imagine #namjoon imagine #hoseok imagine #taehyung imagine #jimin imagine #bts one shot #jungkook one shot #bts fanfic

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