#we birthed it and know the settings/colorings/length/everything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goblinshork · 3 years

Note

Ok so what abaut Bodyguard and Agony whith a a naga prince that just hates the royal life and dreams of just having a simple life living in a cottage and selling homemade jewelry, so Reader his childhood best friend, personal bodyguard and person who he feel in love whith decides to make his dream come true (bonus if the prince has a sister so the kingdown whont stay whiout a ruler and she helps Reader whith the plan, bonus+ if the prince is kinda huge and scary to other people but he is just a chill dude that likes to make rings and necklaces)

Short scenario please! (Also sorry if its too long, feel free to just ignore this if you whant)

Not too long at all and I think it's an extremely charming idea! Thank you for sharing; big gruff, undercover sweeties are one of the most Choice(tm) archetypes.

This also got super long, but the vibes were singing to me.

Features: Slight angst, happy ending, kissing

Bodyguard + Agony (Monster Ask Meme)

Hands, Touching Hands (m!Naga x gn!Reader) [3.7k]

“Don’t lie, how many names do you remember?”

Alok yawned, curved fangs peaking out from almost-lips.

“None, thankfully,” he said, scratching at his curls, cut short enough that they barely formed.

“Impressive.”

“Oh—no, you won’t distract me. You agree with me don’t you?”

The book Alok had toyed the entire briefing slammed shut, the many bracelets at his wrist clinking for emphasis when you did not answer.

Watching him unfurl his tense length of tail, broad shoulders rising far above you as he 'stood', there was little to say but, "It’s not my place."

"Then it’s not mine, either."

He slunk toward the door and you picked up the book--the monstrous thing--with your arms rather than your hands before following him.

"Just give it time," you said in a reassurance that was too shallow to drown his mood.

Every move forward looked painful as he slithered forward like a child first learning to move against stone rather than soft grass. Unlike when he was a child, he was stilted by frustration rather than inexperience.

The conversation was left dropped, burning like the weight of the tome in your arms. If you were alone, you'd tell him to carry it. But servants, nobles, and royals passed frequently, all low bows and murmurs, moving on a touch quicker than polite.

When you first arrived to the kingdom, a slave dressed sweetly and presented as a gift, you'd marveled at how anyone could find the royal family intimidating when removed from their wealth and status.

Baby yellow skin and soft pink dapples painted everyone of them. Alok, himself, was more pink than yellow, and it reminded you of those delicate, painted dolls you'd press your face against glass to get a closer look at before being shooed away by the shop-keep.

You supposed little had changed since then, except now you were simply stared at, expected to keep your fingers off the pretty pink glass always, always in front of you.

The hallway Alok stopped moving forward in was empty, private; his. Without a word, you tossed the horrible book toward his crossed arms and swept the windows, floors, and ceiling for anything strange. His fumbling for the book, fingers audibly skimming against pages, made you smile.

"It's clear," you nodded. "Workshop, right?"

Alok deflated a bit, too caught between the mention of his workshop and pretending to have perfectly caught the book to keep his anger stoked.

"You're asking now," he said flat, looking from the book to you.

Putting up your hands in mock defeat, you turned, alert enough.

"I'm not angry at you.” The slits that served for his pupils, deep red and small in their focus on the gem he was cutting, turned to you when you said nothing in response.

“Sorry, I--” was dazzled by your eyes? Was enamored by how passionate you are for perfecting that sparkling little gem? “I know.”

“I just wanted to say it.”

You stretched from your place beside the door, perched on one of the few chairs at your disposal in the entire castle, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be patronizing,” Alok grumbled, pausing in his work. “I know...I know very well you must be tired of this, even if you won’t say it.”

The window was suddenly so interesting, your throat burning as you swallowed down the feeling kindling there.

“This is my home,” you said after hearing the scales of his tail shift closer. “There’s nothing to be tired of.”

Slowly, his hand rose to hover over yours, where it lay on your lap, “But you should be. I’d give you anything you needed. They couldn’t stop me.”

Everything you wanted to say was tucked in the patch of air that separated his touch from yours.

Any person, bought and raised to be singularly loyal would hesitate at the offer of freedom, wouldn’t they?

They’d want to grab his hand, wouldn’t they?

You could only guess as a love for a prince was not something to be said aloud unless you were allowed.

And you, a slave turned body guard, were not.

Standing, you scattered the almost-moment with a shake of your head, “I don’t care about freedom half as much as you think I do.”

His hand fell limp to his side, the slits that served as his nose flaring wide, as you continued.

“I’m your bodyguard and I’ll be your children’s bodyguard and I’ll be the same to whoever you choose from that book,” you finished, thoroughly shooing yourself away, wanting so much to run out the door.

Alok said your name quietly, but you remained silent.

And everything was still until it wasn’t.

In one smooth motion propelled by his sheer size, Alok stretched to the book and hurled it out the open window.

“No, you won’t. I’ll be their prince,” he said low, body suddenly too large for the room. “But I won’t be their king.”

You did run, then.

Perhaps the only place off-limits for a would-be king allergic to potential suitors was his sister’s drawing room.

Adur payed you no attention as she demanded entertainment from the brightly colored darlings and dark patterned beauties of the upper echelon.

“Did you know, I simply adore the pattern of your bangles lately,” she cooed, pointing to a decorated tail. “So perfectly in style.”

She continued on, picking this and that to sigh over, as you stood against the corner that provided the best view of the room, next to the door.

You recognized each piece she fawned over as being similar to something Alok had on display or nearly-done in his workshop. Ah, to know a magician’s tricks.

Melting into a squat, you let their voices wash over you. No heart could hurt for long listening to women enjoy court gossip as much as this bunch did...from a distance.

When you, Alok, and Adur were younger, the rules seemed less stone and more like blades of grass, flexible and beneath you. Adur set you in front of her always revolving group of friends and tried to fit tail bangles around your thighs and waist. Alok insisted you sit side-by-side while studying geography, arithmetic, and etiquette. You lay between them on sunny afternoons, napping, legs touching tails.

But everything golden goes grey eventually.

“Well, do tell me. Did he throw it in the fire?”

You turned from the window, swapping red, setting sun for sharp, red eyes, “Out of the window.”

The room was empty but for you and her now. Adur pacing around, tail making quick work of circling the room as she read from her collection of letters.

“Still the amount of melodrama I expected so,” she shrugged, raising shoulders toward her pleased mouth as a silent finish to her sentence. “I, on the other hand, did pick.”

You rose, legs tingling from the sudden change. “Who?”

“Prince Talsa,” she said after cutting open a letter with her claw, “I’ve already decided on a short engagement and a respectable wedding down south. Perhaps closer to his kingdom than ours.”

“Talsa? Not rare one who everyone’s after?”

Adur looked at you as though you should know better before deigning to explain, “Prince Talsa is rather plain looking for a naga, yes, but that’s just the point.”

“Go on,” you said, wanting so much to be distracted.

“Think about it,” Adur scoffed. “Rare, beautiful babies create wonder amongst people, but children who look as though they could be born anywhere....don’t you see the appeal?”

She leaned against the window, long black hair obscuring her pink and yellow face, “They would be royalty that even the most common of folk could feel familiar to--feel endeared to. Even someone as devoid of charm or pretense as Alok could gain some favor. From their birth, I’ll have them attend every little festival and celebration. Their bond with the people will be unshakable.”

“You’ll make the best queen,” you said, unthinking to the implication.

“Has something happened to Alok?”

“No, you ju--”

Adur turned to you, delicate face empty, “It doesn’t matter what we know. He’s the eldest and alive and destroying a book won’t change that.”

Your hands shook as you laced them together, risking at least your life, by asking:

“What if we could change it?”

Everything in the little room lacked splendor, save the jewelry that her brother displayed to no one but himself, built only to separate Alok from his mentor. A failed attempt to elevate a man too gargantuan to grow further.

Even the flooring was rough on the tail, not smooth stone but brick for retaining heat. Only care for function within these four walls.

Adur noted her brother’s tail was bare as she swept over the lacking room, only his leather work belt draped over the apex where tail met torso. Every bit of jewelry he wore crowded his wrists and fingers, noisy as he worked on some large bangle unfamiliar to her.

He looked haggard, frown too ugly and deep to be a mere product of concentration. Grey tickled the roots of his bangs, pronounced enough to shine in the lamplight. Alok was getting too old to be a prince with only time for his hobby.

“Sometimes I think it would be kinder to simply put you out of your misery,” Adur said, closing the door behind her.

Alok’s back tensed, but he did not pause his work, “I’m surprised you said it out loud, but don’t say it like a joke.”

“Don’t be so serious,” Adur sighed, “of course it was a joke.”

“Where is--”

“Your human delight? Running errands for me.”

Alok did turn then, face flickering through emotions too fast to name, “They’re just as much your dear friend as mine, you little viper.”

“Forgive my callousness, but I find you respond to little else,” Adur said, picking at the sheer fabric of her top so it draped correctly against her arm again. “And perhaps they are my friend. But they are not just yours.”

“I won’t be king...even if they weren’t here.”

Adur laughed in a sizzling tone, forked tongue dancing with humor, “Oh? And I suppose your little fantasies of running away involve you doing so alone?”

Only the flames licking back and forth in the small forge answered her.

“You’re too old to be deluding yourself like this,” she went on, dropping a bottle and a sheer robe on Alok’s work desk. “It’s time to make choices once and for all, brother.”

“I’m not--”

“I’m not asking you to rule. You’d be pathetic at it, yes, I know. If not for our dear human friend, you’d have flunked every tutor save for your precious jewelry maker.”

Alok curled back over his tail, fingers picking at the fabric of the robe his sister had dropped. “Then what are you asking?”

Hand on the doorknob, Adur smiled, “if you had your way and left to live like a common man with your human, would you really never come back?”

“Never.”

Adur opened the door. “Good.”

The drider--Woodnet? Woodne? Wodner?--stayed near the the door as you did, but unlike you his sleek, black legs rested on a few thin lines of webbing where wall met ceiling.

Slowly, Alok raised his face to address the bodyguard, entirely unused to being the short one. Worse still was the struggle to match sights with the correct pair of the drider’s many blinking eyes. If you were here, you’d have nudged him to follow your lead already.

If you were here...this wouldn’t be happening in the first place. Just another wishful thought to swallow down as Alok struggled to stay polite in the face of his father’s prime bodyguard.

“Outside the room is fine,” Alok said in a clipped tone, turning as he did to avoid dealing with anymore niceties.

“Forgive me for questioning, Prince Alok,” the drider said, voice drifting down like floating silk. “But bathing is when you are most vulnerable. I can not help but object to the risk.”

The drider polished each word, in no hurry to finish his sentence and Alok’s eyes rolled once--twice--thrice by the time there was silence. If only this were any guard other than his father’s favorite.

“I understand,” Alok said. “But, the windows are trapped and you will be guarding the only entrance.”

The sound of burdened legs skittering down stone, followed by the opening and closing of the lone, stone door was his answer.

Driders were generally no longer friends of Alok’s kingdom. Wodnel....no, Wodni perhaps, was a relic of a time long gone, when his father was just proving himself a leader of a nation. That Wodnir--that was it, Wodnir--was so protective of Alok, having sparsely been involved with him and having been enslaved through ruthless, warmongering means made Alok’s shoulders bunch, the muscles between protruding over scales.

Is that how it was between you and he? Did you feign fondness and care or was it true? Was it true but maligned of him to hope for it due to how you came to be near him? Because of he was?

Alok disrobed and slunk into the hot water, hoping to drown his pithy doubts that crowded so large in his mind.

Flakes of shed rose to the top the longer he soaked, proof of a difficult shed. There was sure to be more bits to come as he scrubbed himself with the, apparently, ‘to die for’ body scrub his sister had left last week.

You were usually the one to soothe his bubbling stress in a life of constant politics and decorum, but the bits of dead skin were proof enough that Alok truly was getting too old for delusions. You’d only been away for a week and a spare number of days and here he was, so tense that not even a hot bath could unfurl him.

Ugh.

Politics and decorum. How would he survive tonight without you? Adur was announcing her engagement tonight, in tandem with the nobles emerging from their collective sheds at the tail end of the Harvest Festival.

Alok scrubbed himself raw, hoping to emerge a new man who could weather life half as well as everyone around him. But the harder he lathed himself in soap, the clearer the truth rang.

If only he could have you.

You had relieved Wodnier of his duties, thanking him with a bow, and standing stiff beside the door for precious minutes, waiting for his delicate range of hearing to wane.

As an apprentice, you had met Wodnier often enough to know he wished you well as much as any spider did a fly.

Hammering against your chest, you feared the vibration of your heart was loud enough for him to hear. And there was always a chance the door shutting at the end of the curved hallway was a trap; that Wodnier still stood in Alok’s quarters and was not making his way back to the King.

But you didn’t have time to be safe, only quick.

Jittered by adrenaline, you sprinted to Alok’s room---toe first, heel last--and back, holding your breath once you made it back to the door of the bath.

Sweat pooled against your forehead, but nothing sprang toward you sans the faint sounds of Alok bathing.

You slipped past the door, the pack in your hands bulky enough that the door opened wider than you’d wanted, the hinge creaking.

“Alok?”

The figure behind the curtain froze before calling back your name.

“We don’t have much time, Alok,” you pressed in a sure voice, but your legs wobbled as you neared the curtain. “I’m....I’m running away and I’m taking you with me.”

“What?”

Coming past the curtain, your chest could barely contain your quick breathing. His hair was devoid of any gray, blacker than pitch as it fell just above his ear holes and forehead. Muddy brown and maroon scales were sleek and wet, droplets rolling down his body, even near his---

You looked back up quickly, away from where his belt always covered. “I mean, I want us to run away and we need to go now.”

Having followed your wandering gaze toward the apex of his stomach and tail, Alok frantically looked toward his arms, the muddy water, “What in the fuck is this?”

“Adur is helping us,” is all you said and it was all Alok seemed to need as he picked up the bottle the dye had been in, nodding. “She said it’ll only last until your next shed but, by then, hopefully....”

“She wants to be queen very much,” he murmured.

You tore open the pack, reminding yourself that time was short, and held them out. “Yes. So, we need to go.”

“You have no idea--,” Alok started, before interrupting himself. “I need something from the workshop.”

“We don’t have time.”

He shook his head as he took what you offered, dressing himself in plain leather and thick, scratchy wool. “It will be quick.”

You opened your mouth--- “Please.” --but couldn’t keep firm in the face of his pleading.

“Okay.”

Alok threw a few rings, bangles, and tools into the bag.

“Only enough to sell and get started again,” he assured.

But as you turned to leave the room, his hand was on your arm, pulling you back.

“We--”

“I love you,” he breathed, holding two thick, ornate bangles in his free hand. Both were decorated, from the side you could see, with marigolds, jewels gleaming in the center of their petals. You recognized each one.

One was the size to fit a large tail while the other...

“Alok.”

“I want us to leave belonging to one another.”

Your shaking hands dropped the large bag and his slid to hold both yours in his large one. “If we leave together, we’ll live together too won’t we?”

Even your head shook now, from side to side, hoping to discern the moment as waking or dreaming. “Alok. Of course, because...Of course we will.”

“Oh, please say it,” he said, tugging you nearer still.

He repeated your name and like a spell, you found your words, “We’ll live together because I love you, too.”

His thin mouth, soft and bloodless, fell to yours from his full height, his body curling over you as he pressed against your lips again.

“Let me put it on you,” he whispered, mouth moving against yours as you clung to him.

“Hurry and then we can....Just the bangles and then we must go before it’s too late.”

Careful of his claws, he lifted you to sit on his work table before slipping his own bangle over the small tip of his tail and up further, until it stuck in place under his belt.

There was no time to remove your pants, to mold the bangle against your bare thigh as was intended, but Alok’s thick hands skimming around the metal the entire way up burned as though he were doing just that.

You slid off the table, when the bangle was snug, to melt against him for one brief moment of loving calm, your face rubbing against his neck.

You didn’t have time for more.

After disentangling from his tight hold, you threw the bag at him, near tears as he scrambled to catch it. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m so glad you’re going to be mine instead of a king.”

And then you ran, hand in hand.

“Hey! Heeeeey,” one of the children yelled as the whole group of five ran toward you, kicking up dust on the dirt-packed road. “My momma said that snake man eats kids who don’t do chores!”

“My papa said he can’t help with the festival because he’s growing more arms!”

“That’s dumb, Brittany. My papa is smarter and he said the same thing as Corey’s momma. He’s a kid eater!”

The group shrieked in delighted horror as they squabbled on the specifics of what was really, truly going on in their village.

You hiked the basket in your arms higher after several attempts to respond, loudly telling them to pay attention or you’d leave.

As though pulled forward by strings, they straightened as still as a child could, a few even holding their hands over their mouths to keep silent.

“All of your parents are right,” you nodded, “Every two months he must curb his huge appetite and force back his new, child-grabbing arms so he doesn’t hurt the very naughty children of this village.”

They all clamored to stress their innocence in a cacophony of babbling that soon grew into questions.

“Is that why you live with him? ‘Cause you protect the village?”

“And him,” you said.

“At the same time?!”

“Of course, it’s my job. Now go back toward the smithy before you find out just how many arms he has.”

Lunging forward in jest was enough to urge the children away, all of them teasing the other that they would be last to get there and a snake man’s lunch.

“You’re horrible,” Alok groaned, scales pale pink and yellow from a successful shed. “Soon, they’ll be grown-ups, running us off.”

Hefting the basket onto the dining table, you laughed, “they adore you in secret.”

The cottages here were baked of mud, hay, and a few supportive beams of wood and yours was no different. There was no splendor in the room-less house, but it was truly yours and his. And that was luxury enough.

“They had enough this time?”

You shook the canteen of dye, moving to stand next to him on the low hammock that served as bed, “And the next shipment of birch will contain enough to last us three months or more.”

Alok smoothed his claw down your face, his own expression wistful, “I feel too content to explain.”

You pressed your nose against the pink of his jaw, letting him raise you to straddle him.

“Then show me.”

#monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucking #monster romance #exophillia #terato #monster boyfriend #naga x reader #naga boyfriend #naga x human #fluffy.foam #new.shork #goblin.writes #conch.answered #alienfromagalaxy #I love adur and it is a shame how much of her had to be cut to make this not a mess #exophilia

170 notes · View notes

onestowatch · 3 years

Text

19 LGBTQIA+ Artists You Need to Listen to This PRIDE

PRIDE is all about self-empowerment and self-determination. It’s about not just being comfortable with who you are but showing the world that there is pride to be found in being unapologetically you. And that’s why, this PRIDE, we wanted to shine a light on a small handful of our favorite LGBTQIA+ artists. Ranging from rapturous hyperpop, revelatory bossa nova meditations, romantic rave music, and everywhere in between, these are 19 LGBTQIA+ artists who deserve a spot on your PRIDE playlist and every playlist for that matter.

girl in red

youtube

In her debut single, “i wanna be your girlfriend,” a teenage girl in red unapologetically sings of young queer love over a mesh of lofi production and jangly instrumentation that would come to define much of the bedroom pop genre. It is a standout moment of unrelenting honesty, and a serenely simple three-minute confession that would go on to strike a chord with millions who were afraid of what it meant to be something more than friends. Now, a few years later and following the release of her critically-acclaimed debut album, if i could make it go quiet, Ulven still writes with that same emotional honesty, putting forth every ounce of herself for the world to see.

Meet Me @ The Altar

youtube

“the little lonely black alt girl i was in the 00s is living rn, she never even dared to hope she might see this 💖💖,” reads the top comment on Meet Me @ The Altar’s music video for their single “Garden.” It is a sentiment shared by much of the rising band’s fanbase, who are used to the mainstream alternative scene championing cis white males. Existing in the space between pop-punk and hardcore, Meet Me @ The Altar exists to challenge the notion that queer women of color don’t have a place in punk. And after penning a record deal with Fueled By Ramen, home to the likes of Paramore, Panic! at the Disco, and nearly every pop-punk band that made up your middle school playlist, chances are this is just the beginning for our new favorite punks.

THE BLOSSOM

youtube

For Lily Lizotte, better known as THE BLOSSOM, music exists as the synthesis and subsequent recontextualization of a host of past experiences. From the sound of their dad belting away in his home studio to stumbling upon niche Internet subgenres, THE BLOSSOM transforms all this and more into a sound that is instantly recognizable but impossible to perfectly place. The culmination of this host of influences takes sweeping sonic form on their debut EP, ‘97 BLOSSOM, a perfectly imperfect introduction to one of the most fascinating rising artists of recent memory.

BIMINI

youtube

You may recognize BIMINI as Bimini Bon-Boulash, the runner-up on the second season of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK. And now you should familiarize yourself with Bimini, brit-pop extraordinaire. Releasing their debut single “God Save This Queen” earlier this June, Bimini deftly channels late ‘90s brit-pop and punk to deliver a single that has us absolutely living for the ensuing chaos. Serving up multiple looks throughout its eye-catching music video, “God Save This Queen” is not just a non-binary anthem but a veritable 2021 lookbook.

Hope Tala

youtube

With a sound that falls somewhere between turn-of-the-century R&B and bossa nova, Hope Tala’s music is expectedly a dream given sonic form. Perhaps that’s why much of the UK singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist’s music is able to so deftly weave imagery of love, heartache, and teenage fistfights into tightknit tracks that feel simultaneously transcendental and deeply personal. And with the release of her 2020 EP, Girl Eats the Sun, Hope Tala poses one all-important question, “Why have a life if you’re not going to do something crazy and make a difference in the world?”

chloe moriondo

youtube

For much of chloe moriondo’s avid fanbase, watching her transform from budding ukulele sensation to pop-punk phenom very much meant watching her grow up. Getting her start on YouTube, moriondo's fanbase witnessed her evolve as both an artist and person. Coming out in the aptly titled “a ramble about self identity, growth, and being a lesbian,” to be a fan of the artist often feels like trading secrets with a close personal friend. It is a sentiment that rings all the more true upon delving into her debut album, Blood Bunny. Grappling with coming-of-age at the axis of empathic pop and euphoric pop-punk, Blood Bunny sees moriondo taking yet another impressive step forward.

Godford

youtube

Little is known about Godford beyond what can be garnered from a handful of interviews online and his succinct Spotify bio, and chances are he’s happier that way. The anonymous DJ and producer aims to make non-binary music that exists outside of the confines of genres, overly-simplified classifications, and even himself. What is important are the emotions his music hold and what his listeners take away. Fusing romanticism and rave in his debut album, Godford: Non Binary Place, the anonymous artist does just that. He provides a space that exists simultaneously everywhere and nowhere, like an ephemeral night spent out on the dancefloor with a stranger or close friend.

Joy Oladokun

youtube

Joy Oladokun is at the core of her music. It may at first glance appear to be a painfully obvious statement, but as her sincere songwriting seeps into every corner of your soul, it is a notion that becomes undeniable. In her major label debut, in defense of my own happiness, Oladokun writes with an unabashed authenticity, never turning a blind eye to the world around her. These shared reflections and recollections of life are often heartbreaking and uplifting in the same breath, but in their candidness, we can begin to piece together what it means to be human, imperfections and all.

Allison Ponthier

youtube

Allison Ponthier may only have a handful of singles to her name, but her unmatched potential is clear as day. Raised in the outskirts of Dallas, Texas, Ponthier’s moving songwriting and emphatic vocal prowess speak to her country roots. Pair that country sensibility with some of the most pristine pop songwriting we have heard in quite some time, and you begin to understand just how exciting Ponthier is as a rising artist. With only two singles to date, there’s not much else we can say beyond do yourself a favor and play “Cowboy” on repeat.

Rina Sawayama

youtube

It feels like no hyperbole to call Rina Sawayama an inevitable pop icon. First garnering critical acclaim with singles like “Cherry” and her 2017 debut EP RINA, the Japanese-British singer-songwriter staked her name on her immaculate ability to capture all the glamour and larger-than-life appeal of early ‘00s pop. Building on what was a nostalgic yet forward-thinking vision, Sawayama returned with her 2020 eponymous full-length debut. From nu-metal, club beats, to veritable pop anthems, SAWAYAMA emerged as a genre-defying showcase of an avant-garde pop star.

Arlo Parks

youtube

Listening to Arlo Parks’ music is akin to sipping on a hot cup of chamomile tea as you watch the world slowly pass by your living room window. It is a testament to the British poet and singer-songwriter’s subtle yet beautiful way with words, the way in which each lyric serves as a glance into a tightly-held memory or passing observation. These poetic musings come to life in her debut album, Collapsed In Sunbeams, which layers lyrical revelations over some of the most tender R&B of recent memory. Parks’ is more than a must-listen; she feels like the birth of a new wave.

Claud

youtube

Claud has spent the past few years making a name for themselves in the indie pop world, and the culmination of it all arrives in their debut album, Super Monster. The acclaimed album sees Claud reckoning with coming-of-age and love with an irresistible charm. Pair that with a penchant for grounded, affective songwriting and infectious, dreamlike melodies and you have one of the best debuts of recent memory. In case you somehow need any further convincing that Claud is one to watch, Super Monster marks the debut release from Phoebe Bridgers’ Saddest Factory Records.

UMI

youtube

Equally as inspired by R&B and neo-soul as she is by her generation’s penchant for blurring genre lines, UMI and her music exist as a form of spiritual healing. Half-Black and half-Japanese, her work explores everything from identity to self-introspection, such as on the aptly-titled Introspection. It is a fondness for self-exploration that UMI delves headfirst into on her 2019 EP Love Language, a sublime blend of identity struggles, love, and anime that tackles the issue of always feeling like an other, never Black or Japanese enough.

Joesef

youtube

Sad boy summer. It’s the simplest way to being explaining Joesef’s serene albeit somber sound. Emerging out of Glasgow, the quickly rising star often wears his still bleeding heart on his sleeve, even when the underlying sonics seem to be moving onto greener pastures. It is an exquisite balancing act that comes to life on his 2020 EP, Does It Make You Feel Good?. Blending elements of soft-spoken R&B, jazz, and ethereal pop, Joesef sets himself apart as an artist whose influences and appeal know no bounds.

Serena Isioma

youtube

At the top of the year, we named Serena Isioma one of our top artists to watch in the year to come, and for good reason. The self-proclaimed “nonbinary rock star” experienced a breakout moment with “Sensitive,” a track that is difficult to perfectly encapsulate but think along the lines of fusing modern-day R&B and woozy indie-pop with reckless abandon, and you’ll be about halfway there. It was an impressive standout track that was only buoyed by a pair of EPs, Sensitive and The Leo Sun Sets, in 2020, officially cementing Isioma as an artist like no other.

Khai Dreams

youtube

Khai Dreams’ music is effortlessly easygoing. With its straightforward guitar lines and understated production, every track from the Pacific Northwest singer-songwriter flows out as naturally as breathing. Maybe it’s that laid-back approach that begins to explains Khai Dreams’ universal appeal and millions of monthly listeners, despite releasing most of his music independently. A hallmark of the DIY generation and its massive homebrewed potential, it would be a crying shame if you didn’t let Khai Dream’s serene meditations transport you somewhere far from here.

Frances Forever

youtube

Like much of their Gen Z cohorts, Frances Forever’s exponential rise was not the result of a well-executed marketing plan but by the pure chance of a single song finding a home online. The song in question, “Space Girl,” was originally part of NPR’s Tiny Desk Content before soon blowing up on TikTok, and it’s not hard to see why. Short, sweet, and to the point, “Space Girl” is a saccharine love letter to that bubbly feeling of floating on cloud nine. Now signed to Mom+Pop and with their debut EP, Paranoia Party, due out later this year, this is the perfect time to get familiar with Frances Forever.

Dorian Electra

youtube

Unapologetically playing with gender norms and stereotypes while seeing just how far they can push the limits of pop, Dorian Electra has long maintained a cult following in the world of experimental, highly addictive hyperpop. And it’s not hard to see why. Having collaborated with the likes of Charli XCX, 100 gecs, Village People, Pussy Riot, Rebecca Black, and more, Electra’s music ranges from off-the-rails hyperpop to introspective pop slow burns. All of this and more reaches a fever pitch in their 2020 album My Agenda, a devious showcasing of one of pop’s most explosive figures.

MAY-A

youtube

Maya Cumming, professionally known as MAY-A, is no stranger to the hustle it takes to make it in the music industry. The Australian artist got her start entering numerous singing competitions in her hometown of Byron Bay and started busking on the streets at the tender age of 11. Now, she has a breakout single under her belt in the form of “Apricots,” an anthemic indie-pop ode to queer love. And since that breakout moment, MAY-A has continued to release impressive single after single—the latest being the collaborative “American Dream.”

216 notes · View notes

stiltonbasket · 3 years

Text

how my love springs deep

by stiltonbasket

(read here on AO3!)

Summary:

My Lan Zhan, his husband calls him. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan.

Or, the one where Wei Wuxian feeds rabbits, and Lan Wangji reads a love letter.

(brief a/n: this fic was inspired by this heartbreaking work of beauty by @pakhnokh--I had to write Lan Wangji getting adored after witnessing it, come join me on the angst parade T~T)

____

My Lan Zhan,

It has been two years and more since I last wrote you a letter, for marriage has joined us both at the hip, and ensured that we are never more than a touch or a cry away from one another. I have you by me always, in every hour of every day; and every love-word that crosses my mind finds its way to my lips in the very moment of its birth, and reaches your ears just as quickly, for I could no more keep silent in my devotion to you than swim the full length of the Songhuajiang against the current. And so I go about my days hence, calling “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, my Lan Zhan” all the while: but today I have woken before chenshi, and you are still asleep beside me with Xiao-Yu in your arms, and though my every nerve and vein is aching for love of my husband, I cannot bear to wake you to say so.

Lan Zhan, sweetheart—when we were first married, you told me once that I colored the world for you the instant we met, and brought every shade of the rainbow with me from Yunmeng to make the Cloud Recesses beautiful. You said that the air that touched me at the gate smelt as if lightning had passed through it, and that the very stones I knelt on in the lanshi’s courtyard began to glitter after I departed, though they had never done such a thing before—and that the Cloud Recesses itself, having been a place of peace and reflection before my arrival, was filled with delight and warmth after my coming, as if that first day was the dawn after a long, long night, and I the sun who gifted it to you.

Heaven knows I had no equal words with which to worship you then, my darling, for I was young and still bewildered to know that you loved me. But I have been your husband for nearly three years now, and so I must tell you this—you have driven me mad for love of you, Lan Zhan, and it has been so since we first crossed swords on the rooftop gate when we were eighteen.

How mad, you ask? The classics say that love is a proper, courtly thing, to be shown with modesty before others and in its full force only in confidence. But I have never been proper, and so I must tell you that if you were a flint and steel, seeking only to light a flame and a tinder-heap to light it in, I would take form as a sun-parched forest, and set myself afire at your touch so that I might be beside you thus. If you were a god, roaming the heavenly kingdoms while my mortal flesh kept me constrained below, I would take the habit of a priest and devote myself to your prayer; and if you were a grain of sand in the Gebi desert, and I a traveler sick with thirst, I would fall to my knees and sift through every dune and basin to find you before drinking even a drop of water.

If I were freezing in the great mountains above Gusu, whose peaks are lush in the springtime but shrouded in snow in the winter, I would be well and happy if I had the warmth of your hand in mine; and when I am in my jishi, with the doors thrown open to let in the wind, I drop my knives and tools at the sound of your voice and stand there enraptured until you fall silent again. My heart nearly beats out of my body with everything you say, and everything you do; and when you look at me I lose all knowledge of speech and reason, recalling nothing but your name and your smiles unless some show of wit is necessary—which it very well might be, with you and I being what we are, and all our doings riddled with puzzles that would have bewildered even the scholars who founded our clan.

Lan Zhan, I love you so desperately that to be away from you is torment, and to be with you has always been paradise, even when you were sitting on one side of the library pavilion and reading Lan An’s poetry, and I was on the other with my brush and parchment, pretending to copy lines while I sketched a portrait of you and painted flowers into your hair. You have made me more your own with every passing day, though in every moment I fully belong to you, and there is no strangeness in it—as if new pieces of my spirit are formed shichen by shichen, and bound unto you before drawing their first breaths.

I could go on endlessly, xingan, and exhaust even the lanshi’s stocks of paper in my adoration—but it will soon be breakfast time, and the hens have not been fed, nor the eggs collected, and neither have the rabbits been given their greens. I must go and tend to them now; only wait for me, and I will be back at your side again before you have time to miss me.

Ever yours, my husband—

Wei Ying.

P.S.—I left a pot of ginger porridge on the table by the bed, if you should wake and be hungry before I return. There is only a little, since the rest is still cooking in the kitchen, and you and A-Yu will still have an appetite for breakfast if you finish it all.

_____

After Lan Wangji wakes and reads the folded letter on his bedside table, he scarcely glances at the tiny blue pot of ginger congee before stumbling out of bed and putting his shoes on. He is dressed in nothing but a thin white undergown, since he gave up dressing warmly at night when he first began sleeping beside Wei Ying; but he does not bother putting on a coat, and pauses only long enough to tuck a sleepy Xiao-Yu back under the covers before bounding out of the jingshi and hurrying downhill in his nightshirt.

“Wei Ying!” he calls, when he passes the tidy chicken pen—home to ten brown hens, which Lan Wangji brought to the Cloud Recesses as a gift for Wei Ying before they were married—and finds the chickens pecking away in the yard, eating grains of fresh corn that had clearly just been thrown out by Wei Ying’s dear hands. But Wei Ying must have finished collecting the eggs, and gone on towards the warded field on the fringes of the bamboo forest to scatter vegetables for the rabbits; so Lan Wangji presses on, running with the wind at his back and the sharp pebbles underfoot almost piercing through his slippers. He reaches the rabbit field in less than a minute, careening between stalks of bamboo like a man possessed, and throws himself at Wei Ying so forcefully that he knocks his husband backwards into the soft grass at their feet.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying wheezes, as his lettuce basket flies out of his hand and lands near the entrance to a burrow: mercifully, the basket of eggs must have been set aside somewhere else before Wei Ying arrived to feed the rabbits. “Lan Zhan, sweetheart, what are you doing here? Is Xiao-Yu—?”

“Do not worry. Xiaohui is still asleep,” Lan Wangji assures him, bringing Wei Ying’s sun-warmed hands to his mouth and kissing them. “I came to find you because I read your letter.”

Wei Ying smiles, beaming from ear until Lan Wangji finds himself gasping for breath at the beauty of the sight before him. “I thought you must have. You were cuddled up against me when I woke up, and you were holding Xiao-Yu between us to keep him warm...and I couldn’t help it, Lan Zhan! You were so sweet that my heart could scarcely bear it, so of course I had to write it down for you.”

“Perhaps I should take up the habit of writing you love letters,” muses Lan Wangji, kissing Wei Ying’s delighted grin straight from his lips. “What do you think, xingan?”

“I think that waking to find you beside me every morning already brings me so much joy I could burst, darling. If you really did start leaving love letters for me to find, I would fold myself into your arms and never come out again.”

“Mm, perhaps you would. But that would please me greatly, so I suppose I will have to do it.”

His husband pinches his cheek. “Lan Zhan!”

“I am listening, beloved. With all my heart.”

Wei Ying covers his face and tries to roll out of Lan Wangji’s grasp, wriggling about six inches away before Lan Wangji takes him by the waist and draws him back. “Lan Zhan,” he wails, as a couple of baby rabbits hop up onto Lan Wangji’s back. “You can’t say such things, you silly man! See how my face is burning, look!”

“I’m looking,” Lan Wangji teases, tracing Wei Ying’s red cheeks with the pads of his own pale fingers. “I am always looking. I love my husband dearly, and he is very beautiful to look at.”

“Well, my husband is not so young as he used to be. Perhaps he is mistaken.”

“Oh?” He punctuates the inquiry with another searing kiss, pulling Wei Ying up into his arms and holding him so close that he can feel the stutter of his breathing, and his pulse beating quickly against Lan Wangji’s wrist. “Do you really think so?”

But the only reply Wei Ying gives him is a tender look that shakes Lan Wangji down to his jindan, and leaves him struggling for air all over again as Wei Ying wraps his arms around him.

In the end, they do not leave the clearing until nearly half an hour later; the grass is as comfortable a cushion as two sweethearts could want, and the rabbits keep leaping around them and making Wei Ying laugh, so they lie there, cheek to cheek and chest to chest until they remember Xiao-Yu, all by himself in the jingshi with no one to hear him cry if he wakes up frightened to find himself alone.

The thought of their son has Lan Wangji leaping to his feet with Wei Ying’s hand in his, and then they bolt back towards the house and retrieve the basket of eggs on the way, running nearly fast enough to outstrip Wen Ning at his swiftest before Wei Ying throws the doors open and barrels into the bedroom.

“A-Yu!” he calls, letting out a shout of laughter as Lan Wangji comes jogging up behind him. “Xiao-Yu, baobei, what are you doing?”

“I’m eating ginger porridge,” Xiao-Yu chirps. The little lotus-shaped pot of congee is nestled snugly in his arms, and A-Yu is eating out of it with the large spoon Wei Ying left behind for Lan Wangji. “Papa and A-Niang went out, so Xiao-Yu is having breakfast.”

“Aiyah, Xiao-Yu,” Wei Ying groans, taking the pot away from A-Yu and wiping his dirty face with a handkerchief. “That was for you and Papa, sweetheart, since I was going to be late back. How will you eat your breakfast properly now?”

“But A-Yu is still hungry,” the little boy insists, trying to grab the spoon. “A-Niang, let me finish?”

“Wait a little longer,” scolds Wei Ying. “I still have to cook the rest of the porridge with steamed dan, and make chicken soup to go with it. Now be a good child and go with Papa to take your bath, and breakfast will be ready when you finish dressing.”

Xiao-Yu nods and jumps off the bed, scurrying off towards the washroom on the other side of the house, and leaves his parents to embrace each other once again before they part to attend to their own duties.

“What do you want this afternoon, qinai?” Lan Wangji murmurs, as Wei Ying’s head falls onto his shoulder. “The tradesmen ought to have sent up the day’s groceries by now, so I will make lunch while you teach your talisman class.”

Wei Ying blinks, very slowly, and then he stands up on his toes and plants one last, lingering kiss between Lan Wangji’s eyebrows.

“Teach my talisman class with me,” he entreats. “When we get back, we can make lunch together.”

(And so they do, and just like all the other dishes Lan Wangji has shared with Wei Ying, that afternoon’s luncheon tastes fresher and sweeter than every meal before it.)

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #lan wangji #wei wuxian #my fic #i was heartbroken i had to take ACTION #*sobs*#please check it out on ao3 if you can!

260 notes · View notes

ackerfics · 3 years

Text

so this is love — annie leonhart

— annie leonhart x female reader

— request by anon: I kinda have a request. How about royal au? Where 2 kingdoms are at war with each other, and reader is the heir of the throne of one kingdom (but they’re not the spoiled type of heir, more like the solider one?) and then the kingdoms decided a truce. Reader will have to marry the heir of the other kingdom which is Annie. Idk maybe those arranged marriages that they never get along at first? Kinda like they were enemies bc they never get along until some development of feelings happen along the way. Maybe Annie will realize that she has feelings when reader got injured since they’re a soldier

— warnings: mentions of war, slight angst if you squint, just two idiots falling in love with each other :))

— summary: you were sent off to another kingdom as a sign of a truce, promising to yourself that the engagement is close to death at how you got off on the wrong foot with your betrothed. it was hell at first but who knows? maybe, unbeknownst to you, the two of you are a match made by the gods.

— word count: 7.5k

— author’s notes: i am so sorry this came out so long :((( we just finished our exams and we have a case study to write as our midterm for a subject. i hope this will still quench your annie fic cravings. and by the way, i fashioned the kingdom of idylle to mondstadt because genshin impact is my stress reliever right now and a kingdom built upon freedom sounds like a gem. plus, the glass castle of the reader is based off of the castle of cinderella, which is the reason for the title hhhhhh happy reading !!!

so this didn’t appear in the tags so i reposted it :”(((

Corsets were abominations that needed to be burned.

The girl with your features staring at you from the mirror was someone you couldn’t recognize from all the preparations your chambermaid did on your figure. The make-up was appalling and thick that you could see a smear on the back of your hand when you tried rubbing your itching nose. Your hair was done in a half up-do with too many decorative pins sticking out, creating a makeshift crown of silver roses, one of the symbols of your kingdom. The dress your mother expected you in was straight-up ridiculous, you couldn’t move from the tightness of the corset and the heaviness of your skirts was hindering you from moving freely. You couldn’t even deny that it was a lovely gown but its inconvenience was irking you at the slightest turn or stretch.

Dressing up this lavishly was rare for you, the Crown Princess of the kingdom boring flags of silver and lilac. You very much preferred the heaviness of your armor and your title as one of your kingdom’s Commendatore rather than the ladylike image your mother has been forcing you on the past few weeks.

You were livid when your parents renounced from the ten-year war that was purging the continent with just a sign on a piece of paper — one that included your name and your honor. Everything was brutal, carnage dotting every town and village of the two kingdoms throwing spears and fire cannons, and you witnessed it all firsthand when you started being one of your kingdom’s soldiers four years ago — a sixteen-year-old girl throwing orders that gave you an advantage from your enemies wearing the crest of the kingdom that painted your lands a heart-wrenching red. Of all solutions that your parents and the other kingdom could come up with, it involved you in the most unacceptable way possible. Officially entering your twenties this year, your parents thought it necessary to offer you as a bride that signified peace to the warring nation right beyond the border. The idea made your vision red, an outburst coming out of your mouth mere seconds after the proposal was announced in the council meeting.

A soldier, a knight, a commander — that’s what you are.

Not some forsaken young woman ready to be shipped off to your rival nation because it was the only way out of this bloody mess.

You had no choice.

The only way for you to grasp the final moments in your kingdom was relishing the touches of the chambermaid and taking in the décor of your room — the small trinkets scattered on your nightstands, the books you escaped to, the jewelry that boasted the colors of your family, and the stuffed animals your nanny sewed for you when you were a toddler. You closed your eyes and let the feathery fingers of the people around you lull you into a prayer for the gods in their celestial thrones, asking for their blessing in this far travel. In the middle of reciting an ode dedicated to the goddess of divine bravery, you felt a cool pendant carefully slide over your collarbones.

Your mother’s face appeared beside the watery princess of the mirror, a forced smile pulling on the corners of her lips. Your distinctly colored irises flickered down on the necklace your mother placed upon the exposed parts of your body. It was a flower-pressed necklace, the gold plate carefully protecting the flower representing your birth. The golden chain holding the necklace together was so thin that you worried for a moment that the fragile piece of jewelry might break in less than an hour while you meet your partner-to-be. You met your mother’s gaze in the mirror — from a chivalrous princess of armor to a dignified queen ruling within a land of eternal spring.

“You look so beautiful,” your mother breathed your name, holding your arms tightly against her ring-adorned hands. Tears blossomed her eyes, trickling down her cheeks akin to the lavender flowers’ petals of the large white tree in your backyard. “You look like the queen you were supposed to be.”

You tried smiling but your wobbly lips made you falter. You can only purse your lips in a tight, flat smile as you face your mother, face set in a kind expression. “Please don’t cry, Mother,” you murmured, placing your palm on top of hers, squeezing it for reassurance. “They wouldn’t do anything to me.”

They, meaning the kingdom you were at war with, the nation that claimed they needed a bride for their Crown Heir. In your world, there was freedom even in marriage — with the kingdoms pairing their sons with the sons of their enemies all for the sake of a truce, especially if the two of them were firstborns. This is very much your situation at the moment. The kingdom of Idylle was a beautiful haven of songs dedicated to the god of the winds, very contrasting to their military power that could take down a good number of your soldiers. You heard stories from some villages in your nation that Idylle was a hoax, that they were bloodthirsty warmongers hungry for the spilled blood of the people of Glaieul, your kingdom. You couldn’t help but believe their words. That was the only addition to your knowledge of Idylle except for their battle tactics and placement of soldiers on the battlefield.

“We’ll pray to the deities that they will do just that,” your mother laughed a little despite the tears. “Or else your father will wage war if they so much scratched you.”

“He wouldn’t do that, Mother,” you shook your head with a slight smile. “You two have worked so hard for this peace treaty. If I ever scratched myself in Idyllic lands, trust me that it would most likely be my fault. Not theirs.”

Your mother’s laugh twinkled in the room, painting everything in a light that erased the heaviness shrouding in every corner of your chambers. “I suppose so. You and your love for your sword are unrivaled. I can still remember the time when you first got the weapon, you were so thrilled for a six-year-old that one would think you were born in the barracks. I have to admit, you looked adorable swinging your sword until the greeting of the night and its stars.” She wistfully sighed, looking down at the necklace she gave you. “Your father was so proud when you came back for dinner that night.”

“My sword has always been a lifelong companion. I will even bring it to their castle.”

Your mother placed a hand on top of her chest, over her heart. “I hope you don’t unsheathe it in front of their royal family.”

You breathed a laugh. “No promises.”

The two of you talk about all the things that happened in your childhood, your laughs echoing through the hallways. The maids and the butlers bade you goodbye and safe travels as you passed by, never forgetting to nod in their direction in acknowledgment. You will miss their company for they saw you grow up before you decided to partake in the war. Almost all of them fussed over the mess you made while practicing your swordplay, cleaning up the broken vases and the mud on the carpeted floors. Even one of the apprentices of the Keeper of Books residing in the palace, Armin, enthusiastically waved at you, his friends flanking him for a visit in the kitchens. You didn’t miss how Eren directed an incredulous stare towards the blonde man, with Mikasa looking shocked at how easily the apprentice interacted with you in a public setting since your times with them only happened behind prying eyes.

You gave the three of them a huge smile that gave their faces a pretty rose shade.

Upon reaching the foyer, your father stood at the foot of the stairs along with the soldiers you acquainted in your time on the battlefield, sending a wave of warmth through your chest. His silver coat lined with gold details was a beacon and his white breeches were tucked in a pair of knee-length boots. His chest was decorated with his sash full of medallions, the kingdom insignia of lilac gladioluses and silver roses pinned on top of his heart. The king of Glaieul softened his eyes, crinkles appearing at the corners, at the sight of you and your mother descending on the stairs.

“My little flower,” was his greeting to you when you reached him.

“Father,” you breathed, picking up your skirts to settle in the embrace of waiting arms. You buried your figure against him, inhaling his scent of pine and rosewater, creating the last memory you will have of him. The two of you pulled away for a moment, your eyes watering at the sad visage your father sported. You felt the lightest brush of his kiss on your forehead.

“Now I’m becoming reluctant in sending you off,” he told you. “I felt guilty when I saw you fight against this during the council meeting. But it is what they offered and I have no say in the matter.”

“I know.”

“May the eternal spring never waver in your soul.”

You nodded before taking a step back, bowing with your knees on the marble floors. Your crown glinted against the light from the stained-glass windows, your hair forming a curtain around your face as you replied, “I will let it fester among the ballads and idylls they will offer. I will carry the name of Glaieul with faithfulness, honor, and grace.” You raised your head to meet your father’s eyes. “I promise to never deter the eternal spring.”

It would be that way until your last years in that kingdom. And as you rode the carriage with the soldiers you fought with guarding the vehicle with their lives on the line, you could only sigh and offer another round of prayers that this swerves in a more positive direction than what you were expecting. After a hefty journey across the bustling capital (people stopped by and waved your carriage goodbye, offering you flowers that one of the captains of the fleet, Levi, scowled at — you coaxed him that it was alright, though) to the hectares of meadows in the countryside, the sight of flowers mixed with emerald turned into a sea of teal as you entered the outskirts of Idylle, your betrothed’s home. Everything was bathed with the endemic species of grass solely blessed by the god of the winds on Idylle — legends say that it was because He wanted the kingdom that worshipped him to look different than the rest. No matter how much you deny it, it was beautiful.

“How are you faring, princess?”

Your daze was interrupted by a baritone voice, deep enough to alert some of the men around the carriage. His gray eyes provided you support during the war. You couldn’t help but smile at the onyx-haired man riding by your right window. “Hello, Captain Levi.”

“Tch. Drop the title, brat. You and I both know that the war made us friends somewhat.”

You let out a small laugh. “Well, Levi, to answer your question, I’m quite fine even though my parents just sold me to gain peace.”

Levi rose an eyebrow at the remark. “I am not one to have the capabilities to comfort someone but think of this as a way for you to help the kingdom without sacrificing your life for once. A nation without its heir is just like losing its king. I’ve seen you train when you’re starting as a squire and to the point when you got the position you deserve. This would be like a small walk in the gardens of your mother.” He fixated his stare on you, eyes dull yet determined to get his point across. “You have a role in every part of your life and this time, this is what the gods crafted for you. Do not fret, princess, you have more chances of being on the battlefield again.”

The words Levi spoke settled in you until you reached the capital of Idylle, a small island in the middle of a clear azure lake with walls resembling a huge castle. The bridge leading to the gates was lined with guards bearing the kingdom’s crest, all of them standing under the flapping flags bearing the symbol and colors of the royal family they serve — a harp surrounded by the colors of gold and blue. Their eyes warily followed the series of carriages, postures becoming stiff in the realization that the entourage holds the visitor their rivaling country sent. That was still the scenario when the series of carriages and horses passed by the marketplace, the vicinity on the lowest part of the walled capital, as if the wind even ceased to let the people gawk at the brightly-colored entourage making its way to the highest tier depicting mansions and the main plaza where their patron god stood tall and proud in front of the palace’s gates.

Everything looked magnificent.

It was a breath of fresh air from the glass castle you grew up in. Whereas your kingdom built a white, blinding home that withstood for hundreds of years, Idylle’s palace blended with the brick walls with its leveled mansard roofs and turrets. The gates were made of gold, welcoming you into a huge square of maze-like hedges, a fountain sitting in the middle of the labyrinth. Some gardeners stopped their daily chores to greet the carriages with a wave of their hat, seeing as you were going to be an addition to the royal family after the wedding in a few months. The steps leading to the main doors loomed in front of you with only a few servants waiting for you to step out of the carriage.

You took in a deep breath, nodding at Levi to open the door. When it swung open, you placed your hand on top of Levi’s as he guided you down the propped steps on the side of the carriage.

“Well,” Levi hummed from behind you, making you glance at him with a curious eye. “May the eternal spring never waver in your soul, Your Highness.” He bowed in front of you, only a dip of his head, a firm hand on his heart, and yet that was enough for you to reciprocate it with a kind smile.

“Safe travels back, Captain Levi. May the gods protect you.”

The servant boys standing on top of the stairs jumped an inch in the air, going down in fleeting steps to get your luggage when they realized they were staring too long at you. You smiled at them in gratitude before stepping inside the palace as the guards opened the huge, gilded double doors in front of you.

The inside was just elegant as the exterior appearance of the entire capital. Everything was bathed in gold that seemed to rival the Sun and it made you look away for a moment. The grand hall followed the kingdom’s colors, from the turquoise carpets leading towards two winding staircases to the golden ceilings decorated with paintings of cherubs and the story of how their god of the winds came to be. One of the servant boys slightly cleared his throat, snapping you out of your curiosity of the myths laid on the ceiling. You turned to him with raised eyebrows, spurring him to whisper a faint, “Follow us, Your Highness.” They led you through hallways hung with tapestries and paintings, drawing rooms where the queen hosted her tea parties (Levi would have loved it), and ballrooms that have the same aesthetic as the foyer. Finally, you stopped in front of one of the apartments in the palace, the servant boy who told you to follow them brightened at the guard stationed there.

“Reiner!”

You waited patiently and let your eyes roam across the hallway.

“Hello, Falco, Udo.” The man, Reiner, smiled at the young boys before turning to you. He placed a hand on his heart and bowed. “Welcome to Gale, the capital of Idylle, Your Highness.”

“Thank you for the welcome,” you replied, motioning for him that it was quite alright to straighten his posture. “The palace looks lovely.”

“Indeed, it is.” Reiner opened the doors of your room and once again bowed with an outstretched hand towards the room. “Here are your chambers and I will be your guard for the entirety of your stay here in the palace, Your Highness.” You muttered a faint ‘thank you’ as you entered a drawing room with a door to the private chambers on the left and the bathrooms to the right. There was a table fit for two people, armchairs, and drawers with vases on top. A huge floor-to-ceiling window illuminated the room, your feet carrying you there to open them, and letting the wind caress the curtains as they danced in the breeze. “If you ever need anything, you can call for my name and I will be here in an instant. Your chambermaid will be up here in a moment to help you prepare for the family dinner. For now, rest well, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Reiner, Falco, Udo,” you smiled, retreating towards the private chambers.

You let out a sigh and stared at nothing for a few moments. It came down to this. To think that you were in enemy lands and was treated so well without any degradation came as a shock to you. The people so far that radiated negativity at your arrival were the guards stationed at the bridge and some of the townsfolk and nobles parading in the streets. As you think about the servant boys and Reiner’s calmness in receiving you in the palace, you immediately thought that it would be better than you expected.

You took off your heels under your dress, mind racing that this wouldn’t be so bad, and plopped on top of your canopied bed, its baby blue curtains protecting you from unknown disturbances and drowning you in a rapid of dreams.

The dinner didn’t go so well as you expected.

You donned a more suitable dress for indoor use, something that doesn’t include forcing your figure in a tight corset and yet presentable enough to be shown in the family dinner. You even placed a circlet of silver flowers on your head to compensate for the dull dress you chose, the description fitting after one of the chambermaids expressed their perplexity at how simple regarding design your dress has. Your light blue skirts fanned out around you as you made your way to one of the grand dining rooms reserved for family use. The choice of the color of the dress should be enough to express that you are willing to be on good terms with the family of the person you will marry.

But your first meeting with Annie Leonhart was interestingly disappointing.

Before departing from your kingdom, you learned the royal family and even Idylle’s customs. You learned how they always valued freedom and expression above all else, compared to your home that valued their ties with the gods more than the idea of getting rid of the shackles placed by your deities. You learned how they have this festival dedicated to celebrating the love they share with their patron god and how it spanned for half a month.

Finally, you learned about the indifferent Crown Heir of Idylle, the young woman with the piercing blue oceanic eyes sitting in front of you at the dinner table. She was known for building up walls that discouraged some of her engagements with other royalties across the continent. She was so closed off that she didn’t even glance in your direction for one second. Her hair was done in an elaborate bun wrapping around her head in a braid, her small, thin diadem resting against her golden hair. Annie kept her gaze on her plate, even playing with her food mindlessly for a couple of minutes before sighing and taking a bite of the chicken the maids served. No conversation was exchanged and the dinner ultimately became one of the most awkward meals you had. The king even tried to engage his daughter for casual talk but Annie dismissed them with a hum.

The queen had to apologize to you several times after the dinner, with Annie huffing at the back and eager to get out of the room. Despite how much she was against this engagement, you still bowed at her before you retreated to your room.

Now dressed in your nightgown, you stared at the canopy of your bed, already missing your home the more you fixed your attention on the bundled-up curtains. You badly needed to hit a straw dummy with your sword to let out your frustrations. Of all the royalties present in your continent, why did it have to be you that was shipped to this measly forced marriage? There were still so many solutions that could lead to a peace treaty but why was this the only one the kings and queens could present to their courts? A sigh escaped your chest once again at the thought of actually getting to know Annie. You laid on your side, curling your legs towards your chest and prayed that the god of dreams will visit you sooner than expected.

A knock reverberated through your chambers, the sound making you sit up.

You went to the receiving room and opened the door. You kept the small hitch of your breath in your chest at the sight of Annie and her half-lidded eyes. There was no one in the hallways. You figured that she sent Reiner away for some privacy, meeting the blue irises you likened to brilliant sapphires.

“What brings you here, Your Highness?” you asked, opening the door wider.

“Annie.” She saw how your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Call me Annie, we’re betrothed after all.”

“Of course.” You smiled. “Annie,” you tested her name softly, missing the way she inhaled too sharply at your voice.

Annie reciprocated the gesture by saying your name. The two of you stared at each other and it felt like an eternity before she looked away to focus on the receiving room behind you. She noticed how your eyes held kindness underneath the star-like shine even though she showed hostility during your first dinner with her family. Your hair was disheveled and it didn’t take her a minute to realize she might have woken you up from a good night’s rest. The journey from Glaieul to Idylle was a long one. You deserve all the rest you can get, “I apologize if I woke you up but I feel like I should do this before dragging it out.” You once again raised an eyebrow so she took out a leather box, opening it to reveal a ring with a holographic gem showing teal and pink in the middle. The Leonhart family ring. “Here.”

“Oh.”

You were gawking at the beautiful piece of jewelry, with Annie taking the matter in her own hands. She took the ring out of the box and pocketed the container. Her hand reached out to hold your palm against hers, sliding the ring in your ring finger. Your hand still hovered in front of you after Annie retracted hers to find their place by her side. She continued to eye your mesmerized visage with a half-lidded gaze, clearing her throat to catch your attention. You turned to her with a small apology for spacing out.

“It’s fine,” Annie waved off. “It’s yours starting today.” She turned away from you and went down the hallways but not before saying a “Good night, [Name].”

The entire week of your stay in Idylle was uneventful, to say the least.

Annie kept her distance from you after that night she gave you their family ring. It left you thinking that you should also gift her the [Last Name] ring your family treasured for centuries. The ring was placed in a small cushioned jewelry box that you opened and propped on one of your night tables. Your conscience was telling you to give it to her but there wasn’t exactly any moment alone with her let alone just passing by her in the hallways. The blonde princess made it her mission to never let your fates meet the more time you spent in the capital. You then decided that she probably didn’t want this engagement to happen.

But she gave you the ring. Wasn’t that a strong signal that Annie accepted you as her betrothed, unlike the others before you?

You shook that thought as you focused on giving consecutive hits on the dummy in front of you. Two days before, you proposed to the king to let you have a moment alone in the training grounds for about two hours or so to keep you in shape. He reluctantly agreed, but not without a side stare at the queen. They heard of your glorious feats during the war, how you managed to become one of the Commanders of a battalion of soldiers tasked with being in the frontlines and how you won constant ambushes against Idylle’s numbers. Two hours of training became three until here you are, still not stopping as you finished every single dummy in the private training grounds. With your day spent outside, you thought it would be nice to have a nice dip in the bathtub before dinner.

In your walk towards your chambers, you spotted Annie in one of the drawing rooms, sitting in the window seats with a book of war tactics in hand. You recognized the author as one of the revolutionaries mentioned to you by your tutor.

“That’s a nice book,” you couldn’t help but mention. Annie turned to you unfazed by your interruption though there was a glint of interest in her eyes. “The book mostly describes battle formations but I think the author likened it to every situation on the battlefield. For instance, the phalanx was native to the empire of Great Findara and it was great for preventing casualties until it was overpowered by the infantry tactic of the city nation of Khisfire where every man has a role and a weapon depending on their group. The latter was more on the long-range yet melee way of taking back the territory.”

Annie hummed. “Do royal tutors of Glaieul teach this to their students?”

“Oh, no. I learned it while taking on the role of a squire.”

She once again hummed. “It completely slipped my mind that you are one of the Commanders in your military. You were ruthless as the folks in the noble plaza say, blood tainting your hands from doing raids in the border villages of Idylle.” Her tone was like a jab to your side, like an arrow tearing through your skin. “I know it was a time of war and desperate times call for desperate measures but our people didn’t deserve to experience the massacres.”

“They were far from being massacres,” you gritted your teeth.

Annie scoffed. “Then what were they? Because that’s what it looks like to me. I can still remember the story two years ago of a young girl wearing her lilac cape in the bloodbath, eyes so dull that you can see your reflection on it. What’s to say that this engagement is a hoax plotted by your parents to assassinate my family for you to win a territory you greatly needed because of the resources?” She closed her book with too much force, bitterly spitting out the next words, “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree as the saying goes.”

“If you question my being here then why did you give me your family ring, Annie?” you asked, your body now facing the tense young woman by the window. You cursed at how the light made her look angelic like the girl the god of the winds sacrificed his life to before he ascended to the heavens. “This peace treaty is everything my family wanted even though hundreds of our soldiers died in vain for not meeting the ends of what they fought for. If you’re saying that my parents placed me in an undercover predicament to add to the weight of deaths on my shoulders, I suggest you tell your father to put a stop to our betrothal. Because I don’t even want to be here, Your Highness, and it would do me such a huge honor. I would rather spend my time out with my fellow soldiers than pretending I’m some dainty princess my family sheltered when in fact, I was anything but that.

“Have a good day and I hope you enjoy the rest of the book. Chapter ten was a personal favorite of mine,” you dismissed, turning towards the direction of the apartments.

Once you reached your door, Reiner straightened his posture, faltering for a second when he noticed the cross look on your face. He chose not to say anything as he opened the door for you. You took off your boots right beside one of the armchairs of the receiving room and immediately went inside your private chambers. The glint of the ring on your night table mocked you. You stomped over the furniture and forcefully closed the small jewelry box, throwing the container inside one of the drawers.

Maybe sleep will be much kinder to you, the sheets enveloping you in an embrace you wish your mother can only give in this time of need.

You were radiant under the harsh heat of the Sun.

Annie was scheduled to have a free slot in her timetable after being included in one of the court meetings regarding the resiliency plan of some of the villages in the borders that managed to survive the Glaieulian raids. She suggested that the villages should be moved to one of the more remote villages nearer the capital, where the terrain is suitable for growing crops and starting small farms. There wouldn’t be an issue with overpopulation because the recommended village was home to the elderly and children. The newly situated families will also aid the old people as they go about their mundane activities. It was a sound suggestion and her father was also considering it. Annie hoped that would be the case as she scribbled a small note on a piece of paper. After the meeting, she stopped by one of the windows overlooking the training grounds, and there you are.

Your small argument that happened a few days before stirred some guilt in Annie’s stomach.

You weren’t even part of the raids she was talking about. They were led by a commander by the name of Erwin Smith. The stories about you that she heard were from Idyllic soldiers that suffered a lot during the war, not from the people of the villages Erwin raided. Annie couldn’t deny it but she did step out of the line by accusing you of being an assassin. That was too far-fetched. She was just stuck in her suspicions when she was supposed to be getting to know you.

All she knew about you was that you were adept with a sword and can name any tactic written in books about wars.

Annie saw a maid cleaning one of the vases in the hallway. “Miranda.”

The maid turned around, curtsying in a haste before patting her uniform. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“Can you prepare a tray of iced apple juice and some cakes?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Annie nodded. “And can you place this note on the tray and deliver it to [Name]’s room?”

The maid was taken aback. “Well, it would be my pleasure, Princess.”

“Thank you.” With that, Annie walked away without a glance back.

Curious eyes followed the princess’ form, the maid finding herself looking at your figure sparring with Reiner and a smile instantly greeted her face. This could be a turning point in the betrothal because she could’ve sworn Annie had a small blush on her cheeks at the mention of the other princess.

After your training, a tray of sweets and a pitcher with glasses of apple juice awaited you in your receiving room. You wanted to ask Reiner if he asked some of the chambermaids to prepare the afternoon snack but a folded note caught your eye. With one hand gripping the towel around your shoulders, you read the note, your face warming up at the short yet endearing sentence.

Indulge in these, they taste better after a good training session.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, you thought as you munched on a sprinkled cookie.

Her eyes kept following a trail of gold tulle, silks, and laces, never looking away the moment her blue eyes laid themselves upon a beauty that rivaled the goddess of oneiric realms, the most ethereal goddess of the heavens. You were dressed in an off-shoulder gown with loose sleeves reaching your elbow, the bodice carefully wrapping around your torso in the most flattering way possible, and skirts adorned with silver gems. In a sea of aristocrats with fabulous dresses, you were a sight to behold in this ball dedicated to commemorate the truce between Glaieul and Idylle as well as announce the engagement between the two countries. You were starlight personified, shining in Annie’s eyes under the lights of tens of chandeliers in the ballroom.

You were on the other side of the ballroom, laughing with your friends from your home kingdom. There was a tall brunette that seemed to be star-struck because of you just like Annie, a black-haired young woman who was smiling slightly, and a blonde who was engaged in an animated conversation with you. Your smiles were refreshing, to say the least, Annie seeing it for the first time since you came to their palace. Your laughs are genuine and it came out of you so easily when in the company of your friends.

Annie visibly stiffened when you turned around and smiled at her, gesturing for her to come to join the small huddle. Your three friends tensed noticeably at her half-lidded stare, with you reassuring them that she’s not that indifferent all the time.

As if sensing Annie’s hesitance, Reiner chuckled behind her. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself to them, Your Highness.”

“I’m getting to that, Reiner.”

A laugh came from the blonde man. “She’s good for you. That much I can tell. The kindest soul I’ve ever met in my life.”

Again, guilt pooled in Annie’s chest. Those words are the opposite of what she spewed out to you the last time you talked. She called you a power-hungry monster who ravaged the war with no care on your shoulders. She didn’t even apologize yet. Annie sighed, “I know.” Then, she pulled up her skirts, navigated the ballroom, and stopped directly beside you. Her blue eyes scrutinized the three people you grew up with, with the brunette and black-haired woman stepping a small step forward to assert their dominance while the blonde pinched their backs to warn them not to step out of line in another kingdom. “Hello.” She transferred her eyes on you afterward, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back and rubbing it in a comforting motion. “I hope you enjoyed the ball so far.” Those words were directed to you.

You only nodded with a smile. “Annie, this is Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. They’re my friends when I was growing up in the glass castle.” Annie nodded. “Everyone, this is Annie, my fiancé.”

“We know,” Eren, the long-haired man in a low ponytail murmured with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Eren,” Armin reprimanded. He smiled at a stone-faced Annie. “Thank you for making [Name] happy! I can sense that she has a different air around her while we talked. It must be because of you.”

Annie stayed quiet, her hand coming into a still on the small of your back. It was a good thing her left hand was hidden away because they would immediately think that you didn’t accept the engagement. She glanced at the ring nestling in your finger, a perfect match against the golden train of your dress. Realizing that she created an awkward stretch of silence, Annie could only nod wordlessly before shifting her attention to you again. It seems like you’re the only one who can calm her nerves down inside the vast ballroom. She never took her gaze on you even as you continued the conversation between your friends.

Her mind was fogged with thoughts of only you throughout the ball.

The two of you excused yourself from the trio when Annie’s father called for everyone’s attention from the front of the huge chambers. “Everyone, kind souls and pure-hearted people of the continent, since tonight is all for enjoyment, the waltz of the ball will now commence.” His blue eyes went to his daughter, standing at the side of his throne. “The moment everyone is waiting for — the first waltz.”

She rehearsed this too many times for when a proper betrothal comes into play but why is her hand shaking when she outstretched it in front of you? You must have felt it because you flashed a comforting smile her way. The two of you went to the middle of the ballroom, the guests staring expectantly at the birth of a romance. They were wrong because you hate her and she hates you. Right? Her hatred for you will never waver for killing her people even though you look like a descended goddess with the lights of the chandeliers raining on you. Hatred must be fueling her heart to beat faster than ever, why she seemed to trip over her skirts and how her words stumbled in her tongue. That must be it.

The dance slowly made its way to the part where she struggled, dipping you as gracefully as she can. Before it happened, you whispered to her, “Please don’t make me fall.”

Annie’s voice was soft, for your ears only. “I promise, my princess.”

It truly was a birth of a romance, the two of you unaware of it all.

“Come on, Reiner!” You shouted at him from across the training field. “Come at me with all you’ve got.”

The blonde man hesitantly shifted into position as he eyed you. “Are you sure, princess? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He remembered the threatening look he received from Annie before this training session and he would like all of his limbs intact, thank you very much. “I just don’t want your chambermaid to nag me again after last time.” He managed a cut on your arm your previous session and you had to wear a long-sleeved dress in such stifling weather.

You scoffed lightheartedly. “I can handle it, Reiner. You don’t have to worry about it. Plus, I can dress my wounds perfectly.”

Reiner didn’t believe that. Your skills in covering up your wounds were lacking despite being a soldier. The most you could do was apply some salve on your bruises, that was it. He had no choice because the past month he spent his days with you, you were like a persistent little child that reminded him of his younger cousin. He hoped that you two wouldn’t meet. “Alright, here I go, Your Highness.”

Parry after parry could be heard in the private training field. You were doing fine in deflecting Reiner’s sword but your ankle immediately ached after shifting your body, leaning back to avoid the sharp edge of the knight’s weapon. You let out a huff as you dropped on the ground, jolting when Reiner called for you to stay alert. Seeing the glint of his sword, you rolled away and the pain on your ankle flared, even more, traveling through your calf. It also didn’t help that you received a cut on the side of your bandaged arm. You picked yourself up despite the throbbing pain on your ankle and arm, now being on the defensive as Reiner continuously struck you with his sword. He then circled his weapon around yours, throwing your sword on the side and pushing you to the ground with the tip of his weapon. That was the time where your ankle finally twisted into a sprain.

“Ah!”

“Princess?” Reiner’s tone became alarmed, dropping to your level and taking off your boots in an instant. His hands ghosted around your swollen ankle, not knowing what to do. “Gods, Annie’s going to kill me!”

“Annie?” You asked between pants. “What does this have to do with her?”

He only shook his head, carrying you in his arms and into the palace. His steps were hurried and the maids gasped at the sight of your red ankle. “Please prepare a bucket of ice and bring it to Princess [Name]’s private chambers.” He turned to you. “Hang on for a moment, Your Highness, we’re nearing your room. Just a little bit more.” Reiner entered your room and gently placed you on your bed. “I’m going to be taking off your other shoe, Your Highness.”

“Reiner, I think I’ll take it from here.”

Reiner stiffened, slowly turning his head to the entrance of your private chambers. Annie was impatiently standing with a bucket of ice in both hands, eyes glacially set on the blonde man kneeling on the floor in front of your confused form. She didn’t care if Reiner trembled in front of her. She vividly remembered telling the knight to never hurt you (she didn’t see the cut you had last training session because Annie was in another court meeting involving the incoming tax collection of various villages). Annie glanced at your ankle, barely grimacing at the state of it before gesturing for Reiner to get out of the room. The large blonde man took his leave, bowing at the two of your hastily and closing the doors with finality.

Annie mimicked Reiner’s position, kneeling in one knee to place your injured foot on her thigh. She didn’t wear any dresses for the day and it made her look dashing. The image implanted itself in your brain. Her hands are gentle against your skin, your cheeks flaring at the contact. Her features were contorted in a downturned one that showed how bothered she was.

“How did this happen?”

Your eyes settled on the top drawer of your nightstand. “I dodged Reiner’s blow and I twisted my ankle in the process.”

“You should be more careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

Annie scoffed. “That’s clearly obvious.” She said nothing more while dipping your foot in the ice bath. She lifted her head too fast when you winced at the coldness of the water. “Deal with it. We wouldn’t want this to be worse than it already is.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you dryly mentioned.

“What makes you think that my being worried is all fake?” You’re silent, Annie choosing the moment to continue the words she didn’t have any control over. “When the maids prepared this bucket of ice in the kitchens, I was out of the council meeting. When I saw then bringing this up to your chambers, I was alarmed and my mind was a mess of thoughts concerning what happened to you.” At each word, her face held a multitude of emotions that you never saw on her. Her lips became pursed whilst you wordlessly stared at her. “I am not pretending to care for you. How could I pretend when I’m already feeling foreign emotions when it comes to you? It’s my first time feeling this way so I don’t know if I can categorize this as falling in love. But it feels like it. So, for the love of the gods, can’t you see that I’m rambling because of you?”

You didn’t reply, instead, you reached out to the drawer where you kept that ring.

“What are you doing? You should be still right now.”

You pulled out the jewelry box and flipped it open, showing the blonde the ring fashioned in a vine, the centerpiece being a group of small gladiolus flowers with diamonds in their centers.

Annie’s cheeks reddened, flustered at the pretty jewelry. “What?”

Words never came out of you as you took Annie’s left hand. The ring looked pretty on her, the two of you admiring it after you slid the engagement jewelry in her ring finger.

“I now accept you as my fiancé, my future lover, and holder of my heart. Annie Leonhart, may our eternal spring bloom for centuries, and may your god of the winds bless us with his idyllic ballads.” Annie’s eyes were wide and you can see your reflection on them, along with constellations that lit up her irises. You placed your forehead against hers, looking straight into her flushed face. “They were right, this is the birth of a romance.”

And as you two kissed for the first time, the gods were rejoicing in their thrones, each of your prayers answered — your love finally etched in a whimsical melody.

#annie #annie leonhart x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #princess!reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk x reader #annie leonhart x you

142 notes · View notes

thewildwaffle · 3 years

Text

Humans are Weird - Birthdays

Another prompt from a lovely user on ao3

When humans throw a party, they don’t mess around. Or well, they do, that’s like half the point of their parties most of the time. What they don’t mess around with is the planning, preparation, and all-out general excitement and energy that goes into their parties. Scarsels, they'd only gotten halfway through the setup and decorating for Human Dana’s party and it seemed like it would be almost as much fun as the party itself! The special occasion this time was to commemorate the anniversary of Human Dana’s birth. When Peterrias was first told about the party plans, he'd been a bit blown away by just how much of everything there was. His people celebrated the anniversary of their hatching day, sure, but it was usually more of a happy acknowledgment of the day itself and of the life lived to that point rather than a formal festivity. Excited to be a part of such an important Earth culture custom, he had volunteered to help get things set up. There was a lot more that went into a human birthday party than he realized. At first, he'd gone with Human Jackson to help make the refreshments and treats that would be available to guests. He'd spent a little bit of time cutting up fresh vegetables that were edible for everyone on the crew to eat and arrange them on a colorful platter. That didn’t take long to do, but by the time he had it done, all the food preparation tasks that involved working with “safe” ingredients had already been taken. Not wanting to be in the way of preparations there, Peterias had wandered back to the main rec hall where the party decorations were at that point well underway. The humans had requisitioned party supplies the last time they’d stopped in a port with a half-decent market. Earth wares, as popular as they’ve become, were pretty easy to find, even very specific items like balloons, streamers, and a large pack of funny-looking conical hats.

Garubi sefra and human Jieun were setting up the streamers now. They twisted the thin strips of colorful paper into beautiful, swirling, drapes that swept from one side of the room to the other. He paused to take in the sight for a moment. There was something familiar about it all, but he couldn’t figure out why. Anyway, it was a lovely scene. Humans really did go all out. Or maybe this was just a good outlet for them to vent any pent-up creativity and partying they’d been holding in for the past few partecs aboard the ship. He suspected a combination of both. “Is there anything I can do to help here,” he approached the decorators. Human Jieun was having to climb up and down a step ladder to reach high enough to place the streamers. Peterias was one of the few crewmates aboard that stood taller than humans. That with his long arms and great reach, this seemed like the perfect job for him. With a little explanation, a few hijinks that went on while figuring out how to not get the tape to stick to him, he had the entire hall “decked out” as Jieun declared. There was still about half a roll of the decorative paper leftover. He watched it as he bounced it in his hand, smiling as it dawned on him why it looked so familiar to him. It looked just like a popular candy he enjoyed when he was a young hatchling. Wouldn’t it just be like humans to use pretty sweets as decorations? He had to admit, it was kind of a fun idea to multitask like that. Making sure no one was watching, he snuck a tentative nibble at the paper. It was absolutely disgusting. Definitely not a sweet ribbon! Oh, by the stars, it was so bitter! “Did you just try eating the crepe paper?” Jieun clapped a hand on Peterias’ shoulder as he came up from behind. “I’d guess from your face that it wasn’t very good!” “Pleah! Pleh… I… uh, you… you saw that?” He figured Jieun’s laughter was enough affirmation. “To be fair,” Garubi came to Peterias’ aide, “when I first saw the streamers, I thought they looked like large rolls of sweet ribbon as well.” Jieun’s smile remained as large as ever. “Yeah, but you didn’t try eating it!” Garubi took the remainder of the streamer roll from Peterias and went to put it away. “Not when you were looking,” Peterias heard the sefra mutter quietly before he got too far. Even though the room was already looking very festive, humans do not mess around when it comes to throwing parties. He helped Jieun and a few others set up some games and activities for the party. Once again, many hands might light work and the only thing left to do, so Jieun said, was blow up a few more balloons. “Thanks for helping set up though, I really do appreciate it. Dana’s going to love this! She has no idea we’ve got this planned, I can’t wait to see the look on her face!” “Glad to be included in such an important celebration of life,” Peterias closed his eyes and nodded to return for Jieun’s smile. “I am also very excited about the party. If I may ask, do you know how many years Dana is marking today?” “Uh, well, she’s turning thirty-seven in Earth years. I’d have to do the math to convert that to galactic standardized. I know doing that would make it a fraction of some sort.” Peterias tilted his head trying to recall what he knew about Earth. Their day cycles fell into an average length among inhabited homeworlds. The way they divided their days was a little funny but close enough that many humans had no problem converting to galactic standardized times. Years though, years seemed a little long to him, though he couldn’t remember the conversion rate right at the moment. Still, even if they weren’t too far off of GS time, thirty-seven was quite the number! He hadn’t realized Dana was a senior citizen! “That’s amazing,” Peterias’ voice was excited but respectful. “Do you think she’ll stay on the crew much longer then?” “Uh, yeah, I mean I don’t know what she’s planning, but I’d think so. I mean, why wouldn’t she?” “Well,” Peterias wasn’t completely sure how best to say this without sounding offensive or rude. He’d heard humans could be touchy about their ages later on in life. “Won’t she… won’t she want to retire soon?” Half of Jieun’s face scrunched up to make a funny expression. “Retire? Why would she want to do that?” “Um, well, you know… as most species age, they find this line of work to start becoming… uh, well a bit too demanding on… uh… elderly bodies?” Jieun stared at him without saying anything that Peterias started worrying that he had broken some human taboo about talking about getting old. “Dude. Dana’s turning thirty-seven, not eighty-seven. And even if she was, I still don’t think she’d retire. Have you seen her on duty? That lady loves blasting asteroids.” Jieun chuckled as if recalling a memory as he grabbed a rubber balloon and began forcing air into it through his mouth. As Peterias watched the blue shape grow in size, something Jieun said finally clicked. “Wait, eighty-seven? Do humans live that long?!” Jieun removed the balloon from his lips and tied the end so the air wouldn’t escape. “Well, I mean, with proper diet and exercise, a bit of good luck and good genes, yeah. I mean nowadays, it’s not too crazy to see people living and even being fairly active into their hundreds.” “What?!” Jieun had to be joking. Humans loved playing practical jokes. He kept waiting for his crewmate’s face to break into a wide grin and laugh at his attempt to “pull his leg” as the human saying went. As the tiks went by though, Jieun didn’t back down from his bold statement and instead started blowing up another balloon. “Oh,” Peterias shook his head. “Oh how silly of me. I forgot about the year ratio. Earth must circumnavigate it’s star fairly quickly. There for a bit, I thought you were saying humans could live for over 100 galactic standard years.” Jieun opened his mouth and let the half-filled balloon propel itself around the room wildly. “Uh, yeah, we can. Easily. I think the ratio is like, uh just a little over two-thirds of an Earth year for every galactic standardized year. Something like that? If we’re talking SG years, 130 is around the average life expectancy. 180’s getting up there. I think the oldest living human right now is pushing 195 SG years or something like that.” Shivers ran down Peterias’ whole body. He felt the proto-feathers along his spine rise up. He felt like he was frozen in place as his brain used 100% of its capacity to try to process what he’d just been told. There was no way. He’d have known about this before, right? Of all the rumors that flew around about humans, this would have been one of them, right? He kept waiting for a punchline, for Jieun’s nonchalant facade to drop and for him to start laughing at the hilarious joke he’d been trying to get Peterias to believe. But it didn’t happen. He wasn’t joking. Instead, Jieun held out his hand. “Let me see, I guess that would make Dana....” His fingers went up and down as he calculated, “Oh, a little over sixty I guess. In SG, that is.” He then went to retrieve the balloon he’d let escape before and proceeded to blow it up again, tying it off this time. Peterias just stood there, still frozen. He watched the human continue to put the final touches of decorations around the room. How old was Jieun? He saw human Jackson enter the room, being helped by several other crewmates as they carried in platters of prepared party snacks. How old was he? How old were any of the other human crewmates aboard the ship? How much had they seen and how much life had they lived even before they stepped aboard the ship? He was finally pulled out of his frozen state as everyone scrambled to hiding spots. Realizing he was still standing in the middle of the room, Garubi came up behind him and led him to a spot where he could crouch behind a chair. “Come on, they said part of the celebration is to jump out and surprise the birthday celebrant when they arrive at their party.” Peterias allowed themselves to be pulled along and even made sure to tuck their tail in closely so as to hide better behind the chair. It was futile, he was too large, but thinking on that right now seemed beyond his capabilities. Dana was indeed surprised when she arrived. She screamed, out of shock at first, then in delight. There was a lot of laughter, music, and talking, and a surprising amount of very bad, off-key singing to a very repetitive song. It felt almost like visiting a harvest festival back home, so happy and celebratory! Except unlike the festivals, this was for one person. Before, it might have seemed a bit excessive, even by human standards. Now he realized that with this celebration of life, there was a lot of life to celebrate. The planning and preparation that had gone into the party was well worth the effort. Peterias hadn’t had as much fun in some time. It wasn’t any one particular game they played or amusing story that was told that made it so much fun. It was more just, how happy everyone was. The humans, especially Dana, just seemed to radiate a warm happy energy that was particularly infectious. Peterias smiled as he watched Jackson get animated as he recounted an adventure he’d had as a youth on Earth. It was, of course, a story about him doing something dangerous and how he got out of it, and he had several delighted crewmates hanging onto every word. Peterias, chuckled as a thought came to him while watching the scene. Humans live such long lives. He’d had no idea. He supposed that some, after hearing Jackson’s story and knowing what ridiculous antics humans got into on the regular, might postulate that humans live so long because death itself is hesitant to claim them. As he looked around the room though, he caught eyes with human Dana who smiled that strange warm, and slightly scary way that humans do. She held up her hands together to form a shape that he’d been told was a symbol of love and mouthed the words “thank you” to him. Peterias nodded and smiled back. His mind started wandering again. Somewhere in his brain, the new information of human’s life spans was being put together with other tales and warnings he’d ever heard about them like puzzle pieces. That’s why everyone’s always worried about offending humans. They have such long lives that they could hold grudges for what would be lifetimes for other races. That’s why they’re so good at multitasking or will often come onto crews with multiple advanced skills. They have plenty of time to hone their talents. That’s why they can be so forgetful at times. They have a lot of life stored in their memories. There was a large collection of gasps and laughter from the crowd around Jackson as he finished up his story. Soon, Dana took over as the next storyteller about one of her own fool-hardy enterprises she’d had once. It wasn’t quite as much of an adventurous tale as Jackson’s had been, but it was a good story and she told it well. Peterias smiled as he listened in. He was glad humans lived so long, for a lot of reasons. Maybe those who half-joked when they said that death was afraid to claim humans were right. They certainly were a handful in the realm of life, they’d probably continue to be a handful in the realm beyond. In any case, whatever the reason may be, he was glad he’d have his friends around for a long time.

#humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans live a long time #space #aliens #writeblr #ao3 #prompt #original writing #birthday #sci-fi

335 notes · View notes

rkived · 4 years

Text

━ CHASING PAVEMENTS 02 | JJK

↳ PAIRING: dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader (ft. taehyung)

↳ GENRE/TAGS: f2l, angst, unrequited feelings au, cheating au, future smut

↳ WARNINGS: (for this chapter) time jumps (but it’s not so bad this time aha) mentions of a troubled marriage, mentions of postpartum depression, mentions of alcohol consumption, cheating!!! (obviously don’t do that y’all), a kinda hot makeout session

↳ WORD COUNT: 8.5k

↳ EXCERPT: ‘‘Jungkook shouldn’t be thinking about you, especially on the day of his fourth wedding anniversary to the woman he chose as his wife.’’

↳ A/N: hello!! first of all thanks so much for the love on pt 1 of cp like T_T anyway cp was supposed to be two pts only but as i wrote this chapter i realized that if i ended it on just two parts it would’ve been rushed sooo there’s a part 3 in the works! as always, feedback is much appreciated thx!! <3

01 | 02 | 03

Taehyung finally found a dog-sitter for his dog, Yeontan, or Tannie, like you had begun calling him, after being introduced to him via FaceTime.

He’s been wanting to stay the night over at your place for a while now. Things would get a little heated between you two every time he dropped you off after a night out. But just as you were about to pull him inside your apartment, he’d apologize and explain that he couldn’t stay because his dog was waiting for him at home.

A teacup Pomeranian cockblocked you for a whole month.

But tonight’s finally the night, Taehyung and you have just finished a bottle of wine together and the Netflix movie you had both started watching had been paused so you two could focus on kissing each other properly, no background voices to interrupt.

Taehyung is sweet, but not when he kisses. It’s fast and desperate. As if every time he places his lips on you it’ll be his last. They’re still enjoyable, though. He already knows what places to kiss to make you weak at the knees, he pays extra attention to them.

His hair is a nice length and it’s soft, making your fingers curl into his locks easier. He likes the little tugs you’d give him absent-mindedly, always provoking small groans to come out of his mouth, which in exchange make you moan because his voice seems to get deeper when he gets in the mood.

Your phone’s been vibrating for a few seconds, but you ignore it, not wanting anything or anyone to ruin this for you and him. Eventually, your phone stops and you’re thankful.

Taehyung is midway into kissing and niping over your collarbone’s skin when you hear the doorbell ring. Maybe it’s because you’re both way in the heat of the moment to realize, but it’s not until it’s rang a few more times that you mutter a curse and your date sighs at the interruption.

“I swear to━! If it’s the landlord I’m sending him straight to hell.” you mumble exasperated and Taehyung chuckles, finding your irritation cute. His lips still feel electric, like you're still on them and he’s dying to have you back under him.

You huff and peek into your door’s peep-hole, already preparing to curse out the person on the other side. But you find yourself surprised at the fisheye lens sight of Jungkook with Sunhi in his arms.

It’s not Friday, what is he doing here?, you wonder. Immediately figuring out something’s wrong, Jungkook never comes to your place on days that are not Sunhi’s babysitting days. He hadn’t let you know about any change of plans either.

You open the door without any second thought and find him tickling Sunhi’s belly as she giggles at the action. You eye him and he smiles at your sight, but his face immediately changes once he notices your appearance.

You’re not looking ugly, actually, you’re beautiful. Your makeup is done and he can tell you probably went to the salon to get your hair blown out. But it’s the way your nude pink lipstick is slightly smudged and your hair's a little messy. There are wet patches on your neck and red spots around your collarbones.

“Jungkook?” You speak once you notice he hasn’t explained the reason for his surprise visit, standing there like he had just seen a ghost “Did something happen?”

Yes, something is happening inside of him, but that’s not what you’re asking. Sunhi’s gentle touch on his cheek makes him land back in reality and he has to slightly shake his head “I—uh, called you a few times” is what he comes up with.

Taehyung notices you’re taking a little more time on the door and your voice isn’t raised, which means that it’s not the landlord who you’re dealing with. He stands up and makes his way through the hallway, leaning on the wall as he notices a tall figure looking at you with surprising eyes. There’s a little girl with him and Taehyung immediately realizes this is your friend, the one whose daughter you look out for.

“Sorry, I was a little busy” you reply, but Jungkook’s eyes raise to look somewhere that’s not you and he notices the lingering figure of Kim Taehyung.

Of course, this is his doing. Who else would have access to make you look like this? Little busy means you were in the process of sleeping with him

“But is there something wrong?” you ask again, your attention placed on the little girl in his arms that remains silent, waiting for the right moment so she can show her true colors.

“Uh—I think it’s best we go” Jungkook clears his throat, nodding his head over at Taehyung who is still waiting and watching what’s happening. You turn around and notice him, who in exchange gives you a reassuring smile. “Oh!” you’re reminded of what was going on no longer than a few minutes ago “Jungkook, is everything okay?” you ask once again.

He nods and forces a smile out of him “Just thought we could give a surprise visit to Auntie Y/N, right pumpkin?” Jungkook says looking over at the girl in his arms and his daughter nods, but her face is glued to his neck. She’s feeling shy and it’s rare for her to be that way. “Really, Y/N, it’s fine,” he reassures you, closer this time and you force yourself to nod “sorry for interrupting”.

You can’t even give Sunhi a kiss goodbye or a pat on her back because Jungkook turns around and goes back to where he came from.

Closing the door with a sigh, Taehyung comes up and embraces you in his arms, chin resting over your head. “Everything alright?” he asks and you hum, not sure of what just happened. “This is such a mood killer, I’m sorry.” you mumble and he smiles sweetly “Not at all,” he answers and you’re thankful for his comprehension “was that Sunhi?” he wonders, at this point slightly familiar with the sight of the little girl due to all the videos you send to him whenever you’re babysitting. You nod and he hums, swaying you from side to side slowly.

“Want to finish watching the movie?” Taehyung offers and you twist your face, you no longer remember what the plot is about nor do you have the will to. “Want a massage and some kisses?” his tone is playful and you giggle at his proposal, nodding your head quickly and taking him to your bedroom.

It’s Jungkook’s and Jiwoo’s four year wedding anniversary and it’s also their seven-year dating mark. Jungkook really thought he was being romantic by proposing on the same date as their dating anniversary.

He’s spending it with Sunhi at a fast-food restaurant that’s practically soulless besides him and her, the kitchen staff too; who are probably upset they got clients at this hour.

Jungkook didn’t think he was going to spend the night this way. Well, he figured he was going to spend this day by himself, his daughter to keep him company. Out of the four years of marriage, they’ve only celebrated it once, a few months before Sunhi’s birth. It wasn’t extremely fancy, but it was nice. He still remembers because it feels like one of the most, if not the only, memorable times of their marriage. Before things went south.

He woke up that morning to a reminder on his phone that today was his wedding anniversary. It’s shitty to admit, but if it weren’t for that notification he probably would’ve forgotten. But at least Jungkook set a reminder, because once he went into the kitchen to wish Jiwoo a congratulations for another year together—

“Oh, that’s today?” She asks in surprise, quickly finishing her breakfast smoothie so she can rush off to work.

Jungkook doesn’t feel bad, they’re in the same position in the end. They don’t care about this anymore, but pretend they do. It wasn’t always like this. He still wonders what went wrong. At first, he blamed himself for most of the issues surrounding their relationship. Every argument that happened, he’d apologize even if he wasn’t in the wrong. If Jiwoo was in a bad mood, he figured it was something he had done that made his wife angry enough to curse him out.

Dealing with Jiwoo’s behavior didn’t really bother him for the most part. He had dated her for three years prior to proposing, he knew what he was getting himself into. Marriage wasn’t as different. Things took a turn after she got pregnant with Sunhi.

They had discussed it, the having kids thing. Sunhi did come a little earlier than expected, but they wanted her nonetheless. Pregnancy wasn’t easy for either of them. Jiwoo went through the biggest mood swings and worst morning sickness ever and Jungkook was on the receiving end of the stick. But he didn’t care, because he knew Jiwoo had it worse. Things would get better once their daughter arrived, he hoped.

And they did. For a few months, that is.

Jiwoo did her mom duties the first months of Sunhi’s life and then she was back to work. There was nothing wrong with that, Jungkook knew his wife was making sacrifices in between balancing her new mom life and the one she had before. She had just gone through nine months of pain, it was okay if Jiwoo wanted to go back to her normal life.

The problem was that Jiwoo’s normal life didn’t involve Sunhi. It’s not like she didn’t show her signs of affection, but Jungkook always felt like they came out forced. As if Jiwoo was aware that she was a mom and she had to live up to the name. A chore, even.

And then on one of those cold nights, when their daughter was fast asleep, they were arguing with the lowest voices possible. Jungkook just wanted to understand what was happening, why wasn’t Jiwoo acting like he thought a mom should.

“I just—I don’t feel a connection towards her!”

That was the beginning of the next few years of their marriage.

It didn’t matter how many times Jungkook tried to explain to her that she most likely had postpartum depression—after much research online about patterns of behavior that his wife had displayed—, if anything it only made things worse. One time he even suggested looking for professional help and hell broke loose, as in, Jiwoo slept at her parents’ place for a few days without further announcement.

He begged her to come back. If she swore nothing was wrong, then so it was. And Jungkook had made the silly mistake back then to prefer having Jiwoo in Sunhi’s life, cold and distant, than not having her at all. He thought that if she wasn’t present, then someday his daughter would resent him for pushing her mother away. In reality, Jiwoo was physically there, but neither of them could feel her.

But a few months back, it was Jiwoo who had suggested the idea of having a day of their own. Without Sunhi, obviously. She wanted to go back to those college dating days where it was just them and no one else. Jungkook wasn’t too fond of the idea at first, not wanting to leave his daughter out of it, but Jiwoo whined and said—

“Let’s have Y/N look after her! She’s like, obsessed with the girl.” She, as in you. “It’ll only be one day a week—c’mon baby, for us”.

Except Jungkook wasn’t doing things for them anymore, hadn’t been in a long time. Every decision he took revolved around Sunhi. That’s what set them apart so much. Jiwoo acted like she wasn’t a mom, like there wasn’t supposed to be a three-year-old under her care. It was “Jiwoo first” and then maybe Sunhi and him.

But back then, he was willing to give it a try. For Sunhi.

It’s been six months since then. Fridays are still their days, but Jungkook doesn’t want to share that with her anymore.

Jungkook thought that those “alone times” Jiwoo had offered were meant for them to talk and discuss their problems, figure out their issues and fix them. But instead, all they do is continue arguing about something and then make-up with sex. And then it’s back to normal. He’s come to the conclusion that she does it on purpose just to get what she wants.

Sunhi loves Fridays because it’s “Auntie Y/N playtime” days and Jungkook loves dropping her off because you are just as equally excited to see her. There’s not much exchanged between each of you during those times. Maybe a quick “hey, how are you?” or a nod of your heads in acknowledgement of each other.

He doesn’t want to go back home when he drops Sunhi off. He wishes he could stay with you both. Spend some time with his daughter and his best friend and see what genuine love is supposed to feel like. He hates the drive back to his place because he has to mentally prepare himself to deal with Jiwoo for a couple of hours.

The silver lining out of those dreadful Fridays is getting to see you. At least for a few minutes. Jungkook is able to see you smile and laugh with his daughter. He gets to feel the love you give her and he’s thankful you’re still there. Maybe not for him, but for her.

Jungkook shouldn’t be thinking about you, especially on the fourth year wedding anniversary to the woman he chose as his wife.

But he’s in this fast-food restaurant late at night with Sunhi, who’s munching on some fries as she does a little happy dance. Jiwoo had announced to him after the whole “Congratulations on four years” that she had planned a road trip with her friends, totally forgetting about the date, she was leaving at noon. He is glad, but it stings having to spend this day alone, even if there’s no feelings there anymore.

Which is why he thought about the marvelous idea —at the time— to drop by your place with Sunhi as a surprise. You don’t know what date is today, never bothering to ask about the details of his relationship. Jungkook figured that the only person who could actually give him genuine love today could’ve been you.

But of course you’re still going out with Kim Taehyung. Of course you’re letting him stay at your place. Of course your skin is getting kissed inch by inch because of him and of course you're having him over during Jungkook’s wedding anniversary.

It feels like the universe is mocking him in a way.

Sunhi reaches out with her ketchup covered fingers, handing her dad a nugget with a smile. Jungkook politely accepts it, bowing to her, making the little girl giggle.

“Daddy,” Sunhi speaks and Jungkook nods, allowing her to continue “who was that mister with Auntie Y/N?” she asks and he hums, not really wanting to speak about him with his daughter, but he’s never opposed to Sunhi’s curiosity. Jungkook clears his throat and puts his hands together, his daughter looking at him with expectancy “That mister is a friend of Auntie Y/N’s”.

Jungkook wonders if Kim Taehyung is still considered your friend. It’s been a little while since you had been on your first date with him, but you never mentioned anything more to Jungkook. He knew he had fucked up that night he texted you after the date. So if he’s your boyfriend now, Jungkook is not aware.

“Oh!” Sunhi says, her eyes light up and Jungkook knows what she’s about to say “I want to meet Auntie Y/N’s friend!” His daughter’s innocence is cute and he wishes she could stay this way forever.

All in all, Jungkook is thankful to Jiwoo.

She doesn’t provide him with love anymore and she doesn’t care about how he feels or what he thinks either. But at least she gave him Sunhi, the sweetest girl ever and he’s lucky that out of all the mess that is his relationship with his wife, Sunhi turned out the total opposite.

“Mmm, I don’t know, pumpkin.” Jungkook hums before taking a bite of his burger. “Why not, daddy?” she questions and he knows she’s being serious, Sunhi could ‘why?’ you to death sometimes. “I don’t think Auntie Y/N is going to introduce us to him soon”

Jungkook knows that he’s speaking to a three-year-old and he knows Sunhi better than anyone, so saying that is not going to turn out well for him.

“Why not, daddy?” She asks again, there’s a furrow in her brows and she’s crossing her arms. “Pumpkin, how about I buy you an ice-cream and—“ “Please, tell me!” she demands and he sighs, knowing he set himself up for this.

Before Jungkook can open his mouth to make up a story, Sunhi’s eyes open in surprise and she holds her hands out “Wait! Daddy!” she speaks and Jungkook stops and waits for her to continue “Is he the husband Auntie Y/N is going to have a baby with?”

God damnit, Jiwoo.

“I—uh,” Jungkook is rendered speechless, but Sunhi is smiling with delight at the idea of that hypothetical baby her mother had settled on her weeks ago. “Yes, daddy?” she flashes him a toothy grin and he slumps his shoulders, what point did it have now?

“Yeah, pumpkin, that’s him.” he forces a smile and Sunhi jumps in her seat with excitement.

He doesn’t like lying to his daughter. It might be a little white lie in the end, but Jungkook hates it. It won’t matter in a while, Sunhi will probably end up forgetting it. But the probability of that white lie coming true feels awfully plausible to him.

I’m being dramatic, Jungkook thinks. He knows it’s just the events of the night that are influencing his judgement.

It’s okay if you’re dating Kim Taehyung, he shouldn’t be thinking about that anyway because you’re his friend and he’s married, four years since the event and seven since he decided you were never going to be his.

Sunhi’s happy and she holds onto him tightly once they both leave the fast-food establishment. She smiles at him with sleepy eyes and thanks her dad for the food.

Jungkook knows that he’s being dramatic.

He does receive genuine love and it comes in the form of his three-year-old daughter, whose sticky fingers are making a mess of the Dumbo plush toy he had washed earlier that week.

Jungkook is grateful nonetheless.

“Okay, okay, tell me everything!” Minji’s voice is filled with excitement early in the morning and you’re afraid she’ll somehow manage to wake Taehyung up, even if you’re talking through a phone outside your bedroom.

“Is he big? Or is he girthy? Oh! Is he both? Oh my God, he’s both right?”

You sigh at your friend’s rapid questioning, not even being able to answer because she continues speaking “Is he like, dominant? He totally looks like a dom” At this point, you’re sure she’s talking to herself rather than you, so you wait for her to stop.

“What are you waiting for, then? Spill!”

You roll your eyes, luckily she can’t see you “That’s what I was trying to do.” you mumble and Minji mutters a quick sorry “We actually didn’t—uh, do it” you confess in a low voice, afraid that you may wake up the subject of your conversation, who still lays in your bed sleeping.

“WHAT?!”

You’re glad Minji isn’t physically here, her reaction alone would’ve been enough to wake the whole apartment building “But, you told me he got a dog-sitter and all that just so he could spend the night and blow your brains out!” You actually hadn’t said it like that, but the context was correct. “What happened? Oh my God, don’t tell me you backed out” Minji’s tone is slightly angry, you can feel she’s about to curse you out if that was the case.

“No! Ugh, can you let me finish?” You complain and she’s apologizing again, explaining that these sorts of situations get her a little overexcited “Well, we were in the process of getting to it, but—“

You think to yourself if it’s a good decision to tell Minji what happened, knowing exactly what her reaction was going to be.

“Uh-huh? Go on.”

Fuck it.

“Jungkook dropped by.” you quickly spill out and Minji’s groan is powerful, you know she’s genuinely upset “Unannounced, which is super weird of him to do too! So, I asked him if there was something wrong and he just looked at me, like, shocked or something and said that he just wanted to give me a surprise visit with Sunhi,”

“And then he saw Taehyung and apologized for interrupting and left,” you mutter, the scene repeating itself in your brain “I couldn’t even say bye to her.”

There’s silence and you wonder why Minji hasn’t said anything yet, knowing she probably wants hell to break loose on Jungkook. “So, that’s why me and Tae didn’t do anything, it was too...awkward? He still stayed the night, though.”

After the whole ordeal, you knew the night was ruined. In part it was because of you. You could’ve jumped back to where you both left off, but your head was filled with what had just happened with your friend and were no longer able to concentrate on Taehyung’s kisses. You had to give it to him, though, because he stuck around even if his plans for the night had been interrupted.

And sleeping with Taehyung still felt intimate, even if there was nothing sexual going on. He held onto you tightly before you could close your eyes and drift to sleep, being surprised by how comfortable he felt doing that. “I have to sleep hugging something,” he explained and you nodded, understanding “plus, I like the way you smell” he added, burying his head in the crook of your neck, sniffing the expensive perfume you had sprayed earlier while you prepared for his arrival. Chuckling, your fingers found themselves brushing his hair until he fell asleep.

“So, are you gonna say something?” you ask her, noticing the silence coming from her behalf, unusual from Minji.

She sighs and you can feel she’s conflicted about what to tell you “Why is he like that?” she asked instead and you let out a breathless chuckle, wondering the same thing “The timing is so weird, as well. Like, he never stops by unless it’s to drop Sunhi off and the day he decides he’ll visit you for the fun of it, you’re having Taehyung over?” Minji’s suspicion sounds plausible, but you know it was just a coincidence.

You hadn’t mentioned to him anything about Taehyung, not after what happened that one time during texts. Jungkook was your friend, but you should’ve kept that from him. He was a married man and a father, he had other priorities in his life and the last thing he wanted was to know who and what you were involved with.

“He knows he’s losing you.” Minji speaks and you’re surprised by her statement, not understanding fully what she meant “You’ve always been there for him, always. It’s been that way since college,” You don’t know if Minji is reprimanding you by the way her tone comes off “And now you’re not only there for him, but for his daughter too. I’m sure he’s used to you somehow being loyal to him, so now that you have another guy in your life—“

“No, Minji, look—“

“No, I’m right, Y/N” Minji interrupts you doing the same to her.

But you know she’s not right. Have you been loyal to Jungkook? Yes, but just like you’ve been loyal to Minji too, because she’s your friend and you’ll do that for anyone you love as well. You’ve dated guys before, back in college and after too. This isn’t any different from that.

“I don’t know who he’s trying to fool, but his marriage’s an argument away from ending up in divorce. You know it.” Minji continues and you let out a sigh, not wanting to think about that. You don’t like his relationship with Jiwoo, but you’d never wish that for him “I’m not gonna make crazy assumptions, in the end, I don’t like the guy and whatever I say will be against him” Minji’s humor makes you chuckle even through the heavy topic “but I just—I don’t know, I don’t want him to ruin what you have going on with Taehyung just because you’re concerned over what’s going on with him.”

You eventually hang up on her, explaining that you have a few things to do around the apartment. Like cleaning up the glasses of wine and cheese table you and Taehyung had drank and eaten last night.

Minji’s words do resonate with you.

She has a point, you think.

Maybe Jungkook doesn’t share much of his life with you, but you’ll always be there for him. You’ll be there for him even if you have no clue what’s going on. You’ll be there when he needs help with Sunhi, because you love her just as much. You’ll be there when he decides to open up more about his marriage to Jiwoo and you’ll pretend you support the relationship even if you don’t.

You just want him to be happy.

Jungkook is doing the bimonthly grocery shopping, Sunhi’s sitting on the cart’s baby seat as she plays with her plush toy. He’s picking between what fabric softener to take this time, the Downy he loves is sold out.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he figures that it’s Jiwoo with a last minute request. He’s surprised to see it’s you, who he hasn’t talked to since that eventful night he dropped by last week.

He knows why you’re texting and he’s already figuring out what to say.

[6:47 PM] Y/N: hey it’s friday

[6:47 PM] Y/N: u didn’t text me anything abt dropping sunhi off today sooo...

[6:47 PM] Y/N: guess i’m wondering if i’ll see her tonight?

Jungkook figured that you’ll be busier now, so he wants to limit Sunhi’s days. Much to Jiwoo’s distaste of not having all Fridays with him alone, but he explained that you now had a boyfriend and needed those Friday nights back.

He was just being petty, but that was most likely the case. Friday is a perfect day. It’s the end of the work week for most, coming home to rest and spend time with your loved ones. Jungkook knows you haven’t had a Friday night to yourself for the last six months, except that one you shared with Kim Taehyung and you were pretty excited then.

[6:48 PM] Jeon Jungkook: hey y/n! yeah don’t stress, we’ll have sunhi for tonight :)

[6:48 PM] Jeon Jungkook: maybe even some more fridays from now on

Sunhi wasn’t particularly fond of the idea either, but all Jungkook had to do was bring that ━dumb━ white lie up again. The “Auntie Y/N is giving you a cousin to play with” lie.

That lie he hated spewing out, but it was the only one that seemed to calm her down.

[6:49 PM] Y/N: what???

[6:49 PM] Y/N: i mean….i guess i’m glad that u guys are gonna have her but idk ??? i’ve gotten used to fridays with her

Jungkook smiled slightly at your text, not expecting any different reaction from you. He knows you love his daughter so much that even the thought of not having her for a day bothers you.

[6:50 PM] Jeon Jungkook: aww it’s alright

[6:50 PM] Jeon Jungkook: invite over that guy you had last time, u deserve it

The messages have already left and been read by the time he regrets doing it, which is straight after he sends them. He knows it’s the jealousy that’s speaking, he wishes he was genuinely saying that because you actually do deserve it.

[6:51 PM] Y/N: oh

[6:52 PM] Y/N: then please drop sunhi off tonight

Jungkook furrows his brows and begins typing to reiterate what he had previously said, but your quick reply makes him stop.

[6:51 PM] Y/N: and before u leave, stay for a few minutes

[6:51 PM] Y/N: we need to talk

Jungkook sighs and runs his hand through his hair. Sunhi stares at her father and wonders why he’s taking so long picking one of those “good smelling liquids” he loves to wash her clothes with.

He turns to look at her with a small smile “Sunhi, wanna go to Auntie Y/N’s?” Jungkook doesn’t need a vocal answer, because a quick nod of her head with a big grin is enough to know what she wants.

Jiwoo was probably going to be pissed that he decided to take a detour, but he thinks the text he sent her about stopping by to buy Sunhi an ice-cream will save him some time.

He wonders what it is that you want to talk about. Now that he thinks about it, you’ve never told him that before, which inevitably makes him nervous. He does not like confrontation and arguing with someone that’s not his wife makes him anxious. Especially if it’s you.

You greet them with a smile on your face and Jungkook’s nerves calm down at the sight of you. Sunhi shares her sentiment and her arms immediately begin begging for you to take her, which you do and Jungkook feels like he could burst with joy. He wishes this is what he could come home to.

You turned around, already heading inside with Sunhi in your arms while she begins excitedly talking about something. Jungkook lets himself in, seeing that you hadn’t closed the door to let him know he’s allowed to leave. He tries to forget the events of last week and how Kim Taehyung had been leaning on the same walls he’s now passing by. Sitting on the couch awkwardly, knowing this is where he had most likely been kissing you on before Jungkook interrupted.

‘‘Sunhi, do you mind waiting in my room for a little? I want to talk to your daddy.’’ you ask the little girl, interrupting her rambling and she nods rapidly. Jungkook is amazed at how you always manage to convince his daughter, you’re not even persuasive enough ‘‘I’ll play Chip & Potato on my laptop for you, alright?’’ you offer and she smiles, bouncing her way into your room without even sparing a glance to her dad.

You take some time setting everything up in your room to keep Sunhi safe and distracted while Jungkook is sighing every single minute that passes by, his leg bouncing up and down, unsure of what it is that you want to talk about. A lot of possible announcements go through his head and most of them are bad.

Jungkook doesn’t even realize you’re back until you clear your throat, announcing your return and noticing his eyes are gone staring into the well; a frequent habit of his whenever he’s deep in thought. He looks up at you, whose arms are crossed as you give a look Jungkook can’t quite figure out.

‘‘What’s up with you?’’ you ask, but Jungkook doesn’t know if it’s a rhetorical or genuine question, before he’s able to stutter an answer, you continue ‘‘I need to know, because I don’t understand what’s going on right now.’’ He can’t tell if you’re angry, but he can feel the frustration in your tone.

He wishes he could answer that question, because he barely knows what’s going on with him. ‘‘There’s nothing going on’’ he lies and you scoff, obviously not amused by his shallow answer ‘‘Why would you think that?’’ Jungkook wonders, but he’s pretending not to know.

‘‘Are you kidding me?’’ you are mad, but Jungkook’s impressed by how you’re able to remain calm and collected ‘‘First, you decide to act indifferent when I tell you about my date and then you show up at my apartment, unannounced, and when I ask what’s wrong you just up and leave─’’

‘‘Y/N, that’s not─’’

‘‘No, I’m not done. Please, let me finish.’’ Jungkook is not used to arguing this way, but he respects your request and lets you continue, muttering a sorry before you speak again ‘‘And now, you’re limiting my days with Sunhi because you want me to take the day off because ‘I deserve it’ and, coincidentally, mention Taehyung?’’ You’re laying it all out on the table and when you put it that way, Jungkook is able to see how shitty the whole situation looks like.

‘‘So, I’m asking you again, what’s up with you?’’

Jungkook remains silent, his eyes are staring at the ground like a scolded child. Is this how Sunhi feels like? He wishes he had an excuse to give you, but he doesn’t. In fact, the only answer he’ll be capable of giving you is one he knows you’ll probably not like.

You sigh deeply and sit down next to him, a space between you two and Jungkook still somehow feels comforted by your action. He knows you’re angry and yet you want to be close to him. Jungkook isn’t sure why you still try, even though he’s done about anything to push you away.

‘‘I just─I’m trying my best to be a good friend to you, but then you go and do things like this and━’’ you stop and Jungkook finally looks at you and waits for you to continue ‘‘I don’t know, I just need some clarity, for once. I need you to be honest with me.’’

‘‘I don’t like Kim Taehyung.’’

Jungkook’s lying, sort of.

There’s a partial truth to his statement, but it’s not really the reason as to why he’s been acting this way.

This is what you want to hear, he thinks.

There’s a surprised look on your face, expecting anything else besides that. You’re not even able to reply because he’s continuing, at this point there was no turning back so he might as well take the opportunity.

‘‘Yeah, I don’t like that dude. In fact, I don’t want you to date him.’’ Jungkook says, shrugging his shoulders and you furrow your brows, shocked at your friend’s bold revelation. ‘‘It’s selfish, yeah, but it’s how I feel.’’

Jungkook is standing up from where he’s sitting, not being able to see you looking at him that way. This is usually how arguments with Jiwoo end up, with him leaving to get some air or alcohol, too tired to keep going back and forth.

‘‘Yeah, this is not it.’’ you let out a breathless chuckle, following behind him ‘‘You’re just an asshole and Minji’s right, you’ve always been this way’’ Jungkook is used to the insult, but at the mention of your best friend ─who hates him─ he stops and turns around ‘‘Did she finally manage to make you turn your back on me?’’

You laugh and he’s taken aback ‘‘You’re unbelievable! You think you have the right to treat me how you please and then tell me you don’t want me to date whoever I want?’’ Jungkook knows you’re right, but right now he wishes you weren’t.

‘‘You’re married, Jungkook. You chose to date and marry Jiwoo, who I’ve never liked, but I never told you that because you’re my friend and I will always support you even if I don’t like the decisions you take. So don’t say I’m turning my back on you, because I’ve never had and never will.’’

He just wants to blurt it out. He wants to tell you it’s not because he doesn’t like Kim Taehyung in particular. It could be anyone else and he still wouldn’t like them, but he’s angry and he doesn’t want you to see the person he becomes when he’s arguing with Jiwoo.

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ he mutters and you want to tell him no, that he’s not allowed to apologize, but you know there’s something more and as much as you’d like for him just to let you in deeper, all you’re able to do is shake your head in disappointment and sigh ‘‘I’ll pick up Sunhi later’’.

Jungkook doesn’t let you say anything else, quickly leaving your place so he can run away from the confrontation, at least for a few hours before he has to face you again and pretend this never happened.

Contrary to your belief, Jungkook is still wearing the same clothes he came with hours ago. It’s almost midnight now and you had spent the last few hours wondering where he could’ve been. You don’t think he must’ve gone back home, there’s a faint smell of alcohol lingering on him.

‘‘She’s asleep’’ you announce, stepping aside to let his tall figure come in, but he stands there looking at you with the eyes you’ve grown accustomed to. He’s apologizing, but he’s not saying anything. ‘‘Come in, please’’ you silently ask.

He’s surprised to see a glass of wine on your coffee table and he wonders if the argument had also made you decide to drink as well. He wasn’t tipsy, but he at least felt calm enough to forget he was ever angry in the first place.

‘‘I don’t wanna go home’’ he silently confesses and you give him a confused look ‘‘Please, can-can we talk this through?’’ Jungkook’s asking, but it feels like he’s pleading. You’ve never seen him like this and you wonder if it’s the effects of the alcohol in his system. ‘‘I-I don’t wanna fuck this up, please.’’

His bottom lip is stuck out trembling and you quickly take his hands and guide him to the sofa you were both sitting on before the argument broke out. It’s the small sign of affection that makes Jungkook sigh peacefully. The way your thumbs rub his hands soothingly, not wanting him to break down.

‘‘I don’t━’’ Jungkook hesitates at first, but you encourage him to continue ‘‘I don’t wanna go back to her.’’ You know right away he’s talking about Jiwoo.

You’re slightly surprised, only because he’s told you there’s been issues, but you believed they were working them out. But by the look on his face, you know they’ve probably reached a point beyond repair.

It’s ironic how you’re always wishing for Jungkook to open up to you, but when he does you never seem to know what to say. All you’re able to offer him is a hug and the one you give him right now makes him feel small. It’s comforting and your smell is enough to make him close his eyes in peacefulness.

He’d love to stay here forever.

‘‘I don’t wanna fight with you ever again’’ he mumbles, voice muffled because his face is buried on your neck as your arms surround his broad back. You let out a breathless chuckle and nod, sharing his sentiment.

‘‘Why didn’t you tell me?’’ he asks, raising his head slightly to look at you and you wonder what he’s talking about. Jungkook notices the furrow in your brows ‘‘Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t like her?’’.

Oh, that.

It was a heat of the moment revelation, one you had intended to never say out loud.

You shrug your shoulders, not really thinking it was that big of a deal now ‘‘Does it matter? You were head over heels for her, I don’t think my opinion would’ve changed that.’’ you chuckle, remembering how excited Jungkook had been when he told you he managed to bag a date with the pretty girl in one of his classes ‘‘You still are.’’ you add and he quickly shakes his head no, his hair tickling your neck and you try so hard not to giggle at the sensation.

Jungkook’s hand comes to cup your cheek, making you look at him and the proximity makes you become aware of how close you two actually are right now. He looks determined, but you don’t really know what he’s thinking, at least you don’t expect the confession he’s about to make.

‘‘’M not,’’ he begins, looking you straight in the eyes and the surprise makes you back away a little, but he’s quickly pulling you closer again ‘‘haven’t been in a long time, actually.’’ You know Jungkook’s being honest because this feels like what he's been wanting to tell you for some time, but had never mustered up the courage to say out loud.

And it is, because Jungkook’s been thinking about it a lot. Finally saying it feels different, like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He feels lighter now, he’s placed all those burdens somewhere far away right now.

‘‘’M tired of pretending. I only do it for Sunhi’’ he sighs out, his soju infused breath grazes over your face and you're forced to look down, his eyes making you feel nervous, but he wasn’t going to let you hide just like that. He tilts your chin up to make you look at him again and you let out a shaky breath ‘‘I wanna stay here,’’ he mumbles ‘‘with you.’’

Your lips part slightly at his confession and you know there’s definitely something more than friendly in it. Jungkook’s hand drops from your face and he’s taking your hand in his, intertwining your fingers with his own.

You’re unsure of what’s going on, a part of you is screaming to stop whatever Jungkook’s doing, not used to the unknown territory.

But the other part is silently enjoying it, liking the way he looks at you like you’re special and the way your hand seems to fit perfectly into his.

‘‘Would you like that?’’ his question is merely a whisper and you gulp.

You’re trying to reason with yourself, because this is your best friend, the one you’ve known for eight years. The one who, maybe years ago, before Jiwoo came into the picture, you might’ve crushed on once. But that was so long ago that you had even forgotten about it.

It’s Jungkook, it’s almost impossible not to catch feelings for him at one point or another. But he never saw you that way, at least he never let you know he did. Once he and Jiwoo became a thing, you knew he hadn’t. It didn’t matter, though. Because he was happy and you’d find someone that made you feel that way too.

But he’s here now, confessing that he no longer loves the woman he chose as his girlfriend and wife all those years ago. He’s not happy. Instead, all he wants is to stay here with you. To be happy with you.

You don’t even realize you’re nodding, until you feel him squeeze your hand and give you a warm smile.

‘‘Can━Can I kiss you?’’ he asks timidly and your eyebrows shoot up at his words, the corners of his mouth raise up at your reaction. There’s a lot of things running through your mind right now, all the reasons as to why you shouldn’t be in this position right now.

But you still manage to muster up a shaky ‘‘please’’ and it’s with that word that Jungkook grabs your face with his hands and gently kisses you. There’s slight shock on you at first, not kissing back right away. But it’s the way Jungkook’s lips softly brush against yours, delicately, that make you reciprocate.

If this feels like uncharted territory to you, it feels like a different universe for him. For the past seven years, he’s kissed the same lips. Slowly losing the feeling of enjoyment of kissing, always feeling like it’s an obligation. But this feels different, better even. He might go as far to say this is perfect.

You forget about the real world for a moment while Jungkook’s kissing you.

In the real world, Jungkook is a married man and a father.

In the real world, you’re involved with another man, one whose company you enjoy.

But the real world doesn’t matter right now, you’re too focused on the sheer electricity of Jungkook’s kisses to think clearly.

Jungkook’s hands travel from your face to your neck, his fingers tracing the skin lovingly, he doesn’t know it’s also your sensitive spot and so, when you shudder, he smirks into the kiss and his lips leave yours, placing kisses along your jaw until he stops at the place you seem to love the most. A shaky breath comes out of you, fingers coming to lace themselves with his hair, enjoying the way he kisses tenderly into your neck, biting the skin, but not harsh, afraid that it might make you realize and regret what’s happening.

You tug at his hair gently and he emits a low groan at the action ‘‘Sunhi’s s-sleeping’’ you whisper, warning him about his daughter who wasn’t that far from where you both were. Jungkook is still focused on you, he’s trailing down to your collarbones and all he can think about is how he had seen you last week, another guy doing the same thing he’s doing now.

‘‘Tell me to stop, then’’ he mumbles before he’s biting into the skin over your collarbones, wanting to leave a mark. Maybe next time you see Kim Taehyung he’ll see them and wonder how you got them because he hadn’t made those last time. You don’t ask him to, instead you let out a small moan at the way it stings when he nips at your skin. Jungkook chuckles, pleased that you’re enjoying this as much as he is.

He’s back on your lips in a flash, but the kiss is different this time. It’s sensual, feeling a little more familiarized with the waters he’s currently navigating across. He traps your lower lip between his teeth and you’re trying so hard not to make any noise, aware that Sunhi could wake up at any given minute because of the noises in the living room.

Jungkook’s hands are lingering over your chest, your t-shirt ridden low, exposing your cleavage to him and he’s teasing you already, his index finger lightly tracing the curve of your breasts as he continues his lips’ ministrations. The sensation brings goosebumps to your body and your hands are clasped together around his neck, bringing him even closer as physically possible..

His hands make their way down your figure and land on your waist, gripping the skin and your hips involuntarily rise up, begging for more. He takes this opportunity to place his palms on your ass, squeezing the soft skin and sighing into your mouth, the feeling’s too good, so good that he feels like he’s hallucinating this whole thing.

You feel dizzy, like the whole room’s spinning except for you and him. You don’t want his hands to ever leave your body and you wish you could just kiss him forever, not knowing how badly you had been wanting this.

‘‘Auntie Y/N? Daddy?’’

As if you had been broken from a spell, you push Jungkook away from you and notice Sunhi lazily rubbing at her eyes, clutching the Dumbo plush toy in her arm. Jungkook manages to land safely on the edge of the couch and you quickly head over to Sunhi, kneeling to match her height and ask her what’s wrong, hoping she hadn’t seen anything from her position.

‘‘Nuffin,’’ she replies with a yawn ‘‘tired, cuddle me.’’ she asks, grabbing your hand and tugging at it to take you to your room. You gave a quick glance to her father, who was looking dumbfounded on your couch, breathing as he had just ran a marathon, there’s a pillow covering his lap and you figure out what he’s trying to hide.

You stop the little girl and she’s looking at you with sleep written all over her face ‘‘Baby, you’re daddy’s here, you have to go home now’’ you explain and she frowns, crossing her arms and stomping her foot on the ground ‘‘No! I wanna stay here with you’’.

Like father, like daughter.

You know the right thing to do is tell her once again that she has to leave, but you knew that meant you’d have to deal with a crying Sunhi, you usually wouldn’t bother, but right now your mind couldn’t handle it. You sighed and hummed, trying to think of a fast solution.

‘‘Okay, wait for me in my bed, I’ll be there soon’’.

Sunhi smiles and nods, quickly going back to your room. You suppose she hadn’t seen anything from a few minutes ago and you breathe out a sigh of relief. Once again you’re alone with Jungkook and he’s clearing his throat as if to grab your attention. You turn around and he’s looking at you with those big doe eyes of his, the ones where he’s looking for answers to life’s questions.

‘‘I─uh, I’ll put her back to sleep so you can take her home’’ you explain, but before Jungkook can say anything you quickly continue ‘‘I guess you should call Jiwoo to let her know you’ll be late.’’

You’re gone by the time Jungkook’s able to process your words. They serve him as a cold reminder of the reality of what had just happened. He had just kissed you and you kissed him back. Things had quickly escalated and he wondered whether you would’ve stopped them if Sunhi hadn’t woken up.

Jiwoo doesn’t care if he’s late. That text he had sent her about stopping for ice-cream with Sunhi had been seen and left unanswered hours ago. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t feel guilty about what he did. If anything, he’d do it again, but he’s not sure if you’d say the same.

Time passes and it’s almost 1 AM now and Jungkook hears no noise coming from your room, let alone you coming out with his asleep daughter so he’s able to go home. He quietly enters your room to find Sunhi and you asleep, the little girl snuggled up to your chest and you with your chin propped over her head, arm splayed over her small body. Jungkook’s surprised to see that the plush toy Sunhi can’t seem to be able to sleep without is left ignored on her other side, back turned to it.

He can’t help but smile at the sight. It feels like he’s on dreamland, this is something he had always wished to see, but had never been able to. Once Sunhi grew old enough to sleep on her own bed, Jiwoo hadn’t allowed her to sleep on their bed again.

It’s silly to keep comparing between you two, he knew you’d always do things right.

Jungkook finds it complicated to take Sunhi home now, seeing how you two had trapped each other. It’s almost as if it was done intentionally. Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head slightly, getting closer to the two to properly place the blanket you were both sharing. He tucks a piece of hair that had fallen over your face and with the back of his finger, he graces Sunhi’s cheek lovingly.

He turns the light off and heads back to the living room, making himself comfortable on your couch as he prepares to spend a few more hours at your place. His eyelids start getting heavy and he finds himself sleepy in no time.

Jungkook hopes he’s not dreaming already, imagining everything that just happened, because when he wakes up, it’ll be back to his normal life.

At least right now, for a few hours, he’ll be able to feel the comfort of your home and reminisce on the events of merely an hour ago and hope they are enough to last him a lifetime.

#jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook scenario #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #writing #f: chasing pavements #aaaa dumbass oc

932 notes · View notes

gallickingun · 4 years

Text

who i am today will love {whoever you are tomorrow} || s.k.

SUMMARY: Sugawara Koushi has managed to get you to fall in love with him once. He will not let a simple case of transient global amnesia keep him from sweeping you off of your feet time and time again, until he has you enraptured once more.

PAIRING: Sugawara Koushi x Fem!Reader RATINGS: T+ WARNINGS: angst. literally just all angst. a little fluff here and there. but mostly angst. some language, a little bit of relationship struggle, but nothing too intense! WORD COUNT: 6k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m not very happy with this, but this is my post for the Haikyuu Headquarters SFW collab centered around the prompt Amnesia! Please check out all of the other rad fics HERE! I haven’t written a full length fic for Sugawara yet, but apparently my first one is going to be Angst City. I hope you all enjoy 💔

Sugawara knew from the moment he saw you that you were going to be the puzzle he was trying to put together for the rest of his days.

He would spend moment after moment trying to piece together the parts of you that created this wonderful masterpiece, the prettiest picture he could never have even imagined would grace his life. He is careful with your sharp edges, the pieces of you that have been forged by years of difficult situations you have had to claw yourself out of.

There were pieces of you that fit into place easily, of course. The softest sides of you which you bared to him from the day you met him. Your smile, the color of your eyes, the way your cheeks lift when you grin. He knows these parts by heart, has run his fingertips over them countless times, until he has memorized the exact curve of them, until he can put them into place without looking.

You are like hieroglyphs from a long-lost language, something incomprehensible if only because you are so cryptically enticing, hiding pieces of yourself for him to discover throughout the years that you develop your friendship and eventual love.

There are days where Sugawara could spend every waking moment between the blinks of his pale lashes purely studying you, irises narrowed as he watches the way your body moves, the way your hands tense at your sides. He notices the quirk of your lips and the curl of your toes when you get anxious, how you gnaw on the inside of your cheek, and how your forehead wrinkles. At times, he breaks himself away from his study long enough to press a warm, gentle kiss to the crinkled skin of your forehead, coaxing you from the prison of your mind, begging you to relax under his ministration. You will reach out, fisting the fabric of his shirt as timidly as you can within your knuckles, and he feels your skin go lax.

When he pulls away to gaze down into the beautiful shade of your irises, Sugawara feels safe, like there is a nestled home tucked away in your pupils that he can retreat to when life becomes too much, too overwhelming. His heart patters within his chest and he knows that if you were to peel his shirt away, you’d find a bruise in the shape of the organ outlined in bright purple and blue on his porcelain skin, like a small galaxy of pain that represents the intensity of his love for you.

Koushi’s hands reach for you in the dead of night, his head resting on your shoulder so he can breathe in your familiarity, and the closeness of you settles in on him as a weighted blanket would. Your presence alone calms him, and the feel of your skin beneath the pads of his fingers only adds to the reverie. His fingerprints dance underneath the thin fabric of his tee shirt that is clad on your body, your body second nature to his touch, and he can map out your ribs and hips with ease. He kisses your shoulder and his eyelashes flutter shut, the awareness of your proximity making him feel safe.

Every day is a new day to find a new piece of your beautiful puzzle, Sugawara thinks as he drifts off into the realm of unconsciousness. And he cannot wait to wake up to discover the next, most unique piece in the morning.

Only, when his eyes peel back as the sun rises the next morning, his perfect puzzle has been ruined, torn apart and left for scraps, and now there is a piece missing.

“Wh-Who are you?” Your voice is a stutter, eyes bright and wild, feral in the worst way. You cower away from him, holding yourself together as though you might shatter if you breath a moment longer, “Why are you in my bed?”

Sugawara laughs at first, if only because he cannot believe that this is something more than a prank at best. He reaches for you, fingertips barely grazing the hem of your shirt sleeve as you skitter away from him. Your body falters as you fall from the bed, and the last thing he sees before you plummet to the floor is the way your irises are engulfed by your pupils until your orbs look inked out with darkness, a void quality to them that makes his heart wrench within his chest.

“Love, c’mon,” Sugawara crawls across the mattress so he can get a look at you, still clinging desperately to the idea that this is a sick joke that you are playing on him – where are the hidden cameras? What will Daichi and Asahi think of this when you send them the video?

Your jawline is trembling, your teeth clenched together so tightly that the muscles are quivering, and you shake your head, “I-I don’t know you, wh-who are you?”

Koushi clambers from the bed to stand near you, arms crossed over his chest as he looks down where you are still a mess of limbs on the floor, a blanket you found discarded beside the bed wrapped around your partially bare body. He shakes his head, his chin wobbling as reality sets in, “Sweetheart, this isn’t funny. Cut the crap. What’s going on?”

When you shout, voice in a frenzy because you do not recognize the man loitering over you like a thundercloud, Sugawara feels lightning strike his heart and shatter it into a thousand pieces. Shards of emotion lodge into his chest as you speak next, “Please d-don’t hurt me!”

He was unaware to the tears building up behind his lids until he feels the wetness of a saltine droplet drip down his cheek, collecting on his jaw before dripping onto the floor. Sugawara’s hands shudder and he reaches down for you, “I think we need to take you to the hospital.”

“I-I’m not going anywhere with you,” you are biting in your tone, a resonance to the fiery personality you have shown him all your natural born life.

You have known him since you were a child, infatuated with him since you were teenagers, encapsulated in love with him once you turned twenty-two, and now you have been married for three wonderful years.

And yet, the frightened look in your eyes, the tears that make your irises glassy, tells him that there may be no coming back from this, that he cannot rely on the years before this very moment to build back what seems to have broken. Sugawara’s hands shake and you can tell, but that does not keep your breath from shuddering in your lungs, busting open your teeth as you release the pent-up oxygen.

“Please, love,” Sugawara’s voice is broken, each syllable grating against his esophagus as he forces them through his throat, but you cannot notice past your own panic, “let’s just get in the car, okay?”

Your body warms at the sound of the pet name, but you cannot place the fondness he has for you with the devoid space in your heart, although there is a quiet voice in the back of your mind telling you that he cares for you, and you for him. Even still, you have been birthed into this place as a confused creature, someone who does not know their purpose or intentions, and the only thing on your one-track mind is to find some answers to the intimidating list of questions percolating in your subconscious.

You know that he will not rest until you listen, and so the fight or flight response in your mind begins to flare until you tame it, stoking the fire down to embers as you rise to your feet. You grit your teeth and shake your head, signaling your defiance, but stumble towards the car nonetheless. You are not sure just how you knew where to go, like a blueprint has been embedded within your mind, but somehow you find your way despite the confusion clouding your thoughts like a raging storm.

Usually, Sugawara would reach across the console and buckle you into the front seat. Only now, as you shy away from his hand that reaches for your elbow, flinching when he gets too close, he realizes that so many of his second-nature tasks will have to be stubbed to a halt until you remember that you are a piece of his heart. He recoils from you, drawing his wrist back against his ribs, as if capturing himself, “It’s okay. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

You should hear the sincerity in his voice, but everything is a lie to you, even his kindness. Your body trembles as you pull the belt across your body, securing it into the latch with a gentle sound. Sugawara watches you closely, trying urgently not to seem like he is hovering over you, but the mission to keep you safe is still rooted firmly in his spine and he will not waver from it, even as you sit before him unknowing to all of the times he has done this very simple action for you.

There is this insatiable desire that sits in Sugawara’s gut, bubbling beneath the surface like a grotesque acid, tumultuous enough that he is steadily reminded of it’s presence, of it’s hungering need to keep you safe and happy, to keep you reliant on him. In the smallest of ways, such as holding your hand as you climb into the car, or buckling your belt for you, it makes him feel important, necessary. He has spent too much of his life feeling like he has been sidelined to warrant other’s have their moment to shine, and you allow him to stand center stage every day, even if the platform is only your heart.

It makes you feel special and it makes him feel strong, like a protective alpha animal. Your generous reliance on him allows his pride to swell, to balloon until his chest is held high and his chin is tilted upward. It may seem silly from the outside, but the way his torso sinks into a concave position as you shy away from him creates a void cavity in his chest that Sugawara is sure nothing else will ever fill.

He has never seen you resemble a frightened animal before, like you were too afraid he would throw you into a cage given your pensive stare and shaking limbs. Sugawara could not hunt you even if he wanted to, and the idea that you believe this is his intent makes a fresh wave of tears well up behind his lids, the heat of it all giving his face a dark flush, easy to see against his pale skin.

As you close your door, Sugawara thinks of how Daichi would handle this. He stalks from one side of the car to the other, the gears of his mind turning so loudly that he startles. A thick gulp rakes against his throat, making his neck bob as he imagines the advice Sawamura might give him in a time like this.

Daichi would not falter, would not crumble. No, the captain would not have tears in his eyes and fear in his heart, rather he would bolster his shoulders and steady his feet, holding his chin high as he did whatever needed to be done to ensure that you were taken care of. And so, Sugawara tightens the chains around his heart that have your name engraved upon them, guaranteeing the organ will not float away or sink down until there is a hole in the floor of the car.

Your newfound independence mocks him, even as you take charge in the hospital and tell the front desk nurse exactly how you are feeling. How can you be so articulate when you are so far gone from the woman he knew just the night prior? Have you truly turned into someone else? Will you ever love him the same as before?

Doubt digs into the base of his shoulders and rips his dark crows wings free. The appendages stand slaughtered at the ground, his eyes unable to waver as the doctor takes a pacing step back and forth at your bedside while he reads your charts. The part of Koushi that longs to keep you safe mocks him as his wings lay crumpled beneath his amber irises, pupils dilating to try and focus on the metaphor that has manifested in front of him in his delirious state.

He reaches out and his fingertips scrape linoleum where he expects to find wings, and he realizes that he truly is a clipped little thing, fallen to the ground with nowhere to go, no way to fly.

“It is a rare form of amnesia,” the doctor’s words reverberate in his mind relentlessly once they are spoken aloud for the first time, “she has forgotten everything prior to approximately fourteen hours ago.”

And oh, Sugawara has never wished more to be able to fly.

You are surprised as ever when he looks up at you, broken irises seeking you for answers, “Would you like to go home with me? Or I can always drop you off at your mother’s.”

The room goes quiet, and Sugawara swears he could hear a feather drift to the floor.

Your voice is trembling when you answer, “I want to go home…with you.”

It would seem the glittering diamond on your left hand, in tandem with the records the hospital has found regarding you and Sugawara Koushi, has given you some semblance of relief. At least enough to be willing to ride in the car with him again, to find solace in the home you two have built.

You toy with the ring as Sugawara looks at you with his jaw unhinged slightly, just enough for you to see the pink muscle of his tongue twitching on the bed of his mouth. You giggle, the first time he’s heard you laugh since this whole escapade began, and your eyes crinkle at the sides just how he remembered, “Well, the house is half mine, is it not?”

Sugawara cracks a smile and stands to his feet, shoulders creaking as he feels his barely-there wings begin to molt into something new. Not the same, no he will never be the same, not after this, but possibly still a semblance of the old thing, a reminder that maybe life can return to what it once was.

And so, he walks you to the car, hand hovering at the base of your spine, but not touching; he does not want to push away the small amount of progress that has been made in such a short amount of time. He treats you like a glass box, opening the door and shadowing you as you climb into the front seat. You feel the ghost of his fingertips, a heat along your spine, and you do not flinch, not this time.

“I’ll order dinner,” he says when the door has shut behind the both of you. “Do you want from that dumpling place you li-”

The words reverberate in the small space of your living room, a recollection of what once was casual between the two of you that is now something far-off and forgotten. You swallow thickly, your throat bobbing as you look away from him so you don’t have to face the fallen expression on his face when he realizes that he will have to rework his entire existence around your new condition.

Your heart freezes, clogging up your lungs and making it harder to breathe. Sugawara shrugs off his jacket and slips on his house shoes, forcing himself to move toward you, “There is this dumpling place I think you’ll like. Want to try it for dinner? I doubt either of us feel like cooking.”

Licking your lips, you turn to find him quite close to you, his hands hovering by his side. You wonder if he aches to touch you, if his fingers burn with the desire to reach forward and brush your hair away from your face. You take a short breath, collecting yourself before glancing up into his amber irises, warmth seeping from them directly into your bones through what feels like osmosis.

“Y-Yeah,” your voice catches in your throat once you take him all in. “That sounds, um, that sounds nice.”

Your body screams at you to either run away or hold him closer, and you’re not sure which part to listen to. You grit your teeth to bring yourself some clarity in the form of pain, but it only serves to make your head dizzier.

Sugawara Koushi is handsome, borderline pretty, and you are enraptured by the sight of him. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body, and the irrational side of your brain wants to succumb to the heat, to be engulfed by the flames. Instead, you tuck your arms around your midsection and pray for patience, “I’m going to go take a shower, Sugawara. If that’s okay?”

He winces at the sound of his formal name coming through your teeth, turning his head so he doesn’t show you the dismay that tugs on his features. He chuckles, but the sound is forced, “Of course, the bathroom is, uh, just through the bedroom and on the right. Towels are in the closet on the left.”

“Th-Thank you,” you nod your head, stepping past him to walk toward the bedroom. Out of what must be pure instinct, you reach forward and rest your hands on his hips to guide him away from your path.

Simultaneously, you both breathe in sharply, the oxygen piercing your lungs like a dagger.

Your eyes meet amber and for a half-second, you are overwhelmed at his closeness. You breathe in the scent of his cologne and shampoo and it brings you back to some place that was previously tucked far away in your mind. You wrap your fingers around his shirt, if only to push him away.

Before Sugawara can ask you what is going on, you have blown past him towards the bedroom, the door closed and locked behind you.

You press your back into the door, relishing in the coolness of the surface, praying that it will help to bring your mind back down to this realm from where it is floating somewhere between this universe and the next. You cannot make sense of any one stream of consciousness, begging every thread of yourself to return to the nucleus so you might take a moment to collect all of your thoughts and press them back into your head.

Clambering forward on your knees, you start the bath water, flipping the level to turn on the shower. Your body is so disconnected from your brain that you almost step into the tub fully clothed, but seeing your sock clad foot makes you pause before you soak your clothes. You swallow your inhibitions, trying to keep the tears locked behind your lids, and step out of your undergarments.

You have barely stepped underneath the steaming water before you break down into sobs and tears. You crumble to the bottom of the tub, your arms around your knees, your head tucked beneath your biceps, and you release every pent-up moment from the day in the form of salty tears dripping down your cheeks to mix with the streams of clean water from the showerhead above.

“Is this my life now?” you whimper to no one in particular, your voice muffled by your forearm. You sniffle and rub at your face, although it doesn’t much matter, given the water running down it in rivulets to hide your tears. You look at your palms, stretching your fingers in front of your face, curious if you’ve always looked like this, or if there was something different from when you woke up this morning.

The knowledge that you have no knowledge of who you were before this morning makes a fresh wave of nausea and tears roll through your body, making your spine shudder as you cry into your own cocoon of a body. A sob tears through your shoulders, and you feel like your eyes might fall out of your skull, they’re throbbing so intensely. You press the heels of your hands into your sockets until you see a full galaxy of inky planets and stars behind your lids. The pain was what you were hoping would bring you back to the present, merely multiplies the devastating hole in your chest.

This is not the first time you find yourself curled up in the bottom of the shower, your head leant against the tile wall as the water runs from searing to freezing while you contemplate your entire life existence.

Of course, Sugawara has been nothing but accommodating during this strange period of time. He has moved his items to the spare bedroom, even though most nights he favors the couch, given he finds it tough to fall asleep on his own. You have woken in the middle of the night to terrible dreams only to find the television playing a show that is trying to sell a rare set of jewelry or a stellar non-stick frying pan.

There is one night, a few months after your first visit to the hospital, when you gather enough confidence to carefully step into the living room and turn off the television. Sugawara stirs at the sudden change in light, his eyes barely cracking open, irises hardly peeking from behind his lids, but he is still able to spot you from where you are stood in front of him. He sits up as best he can, forcing his stiff body to straighten when he makes limited eye contact with you.

“H-Hey,” his voice is gruff, as if it were stuck in his throat, and you can’t help the flush of embarrassment that makes your cheeks burn at the sound. “What are you doing awake?”

You run your palm along the back of your neck, rubbing at your vertebrae anxiously, unable to keep your gaze narrowed in on him when he’s making you feel this way. Your toes curl in on one another and your socks find friction against the carpet, “Just another nightmare.”

Sugawara is at full attention now, the warmth in his irises tripling at your small voice and nervous posture. He sits so he is facing you, his palms on his knees, fingertips itching at the hem of his shorts to keep himself from reaching out to take you by the hands. He licks his lips and looks upward to try and make eye contact with you to no avail, your pretty orbs still hidden from him as you look away, “You’ve been having a lot of those lately, haven’t you?”

There is a beat of silence that passes between you before he adds, “I’ve been hearing your screams.”

This is all that it takes to crumble what little resolve is left cementing your heart together. You crumble to your knees, your hands covering your face so you do not bare your pitiful, glassy eyes to him. Sugawara is quick to react, catching you before your knees can find the carpet, pulling you close to cushion your fall. You do not care that you cannot remember what his hold felt like before you lost your memories, all that matters is how safe you feel now.

He is like an anchor to your flighty soul, keeping you bound tightly to this earthly plane instead of allowing you to float away to whatever universe your subconscious has been visiting since the day your whole world was rearranged. You cling to his shirt, your fists bunching up the fabric of his tee when you lean in closer until your temple is pressed to his neck.

“It’s okay, honey,” Sugawara’s voice is warm, like honey, and you wonder if it might seep into the cracks of your broken soul and seal you back together, “I’m right here, it’s okay.”

For a moment, you pretend that this is what you are used to. You allow your mind to believe that this is your normal, that this has how things have always been. And, in some sadistic, twisted way, you might be right. Maybe before you forgot what he smelled like and how he kissed, this was how he held you – firm and secure, sturdy as a rock and kind as a beam of sunshine. Your heart hammers in your ribs and you can’t stop the tears from flowing, from the feel of both of your hearts breaking in the small space between your bodies.

You wonder if his chest feels as tight as yours, as if your ribs are the only thing keeping your hearts from bursting directly out of your skin. The beating is loud, thunderous in your ears as you cry into his shoulder, staining his shirt dark with your tears. You sob and snot and cough, but never once does he judge you or push you away. All you hear is the gentle hush of his voice in your ear, reminding you that he is here, reminding you that everything will eventually be okay.

And for a split second, you believe him.

And without inhibition, you allow your heart to speak, your throat but a conduit for the emotions bubbling within your belly like lava.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you admit, your chest splitting open as the lava sprays through your teeth, burning your mouth to ash, but somehow you still speak, “please, Koushi, I-I think- I think I need you.”

When you look up at him, the absolute adoration reflected back to you in shades of tawny brown, dark and light swirling within his irises until it is overwhelming you like a storm cloud. You suck in a deep breath and dive back in, tucking your head underneath his chin and wrapping your arms around his shoulders until you are conjoined, unsure of where he ends and you begin as you become a mess of limbs on the sofa.

“I’m right here,” he repeats in a whisper against the crown of your head, holding you around the waist and beneath the thighs as he stands with you still in his arms. You latch onto him tighter, curled around him like a frightened animal, and your place against his neck makes it so you cannot see the way his lips stretch into a smile.

This has been what he has craved for the past few months – a genuine closeness that you chose; you choosing him. Sugawara cradles your body as tightly as he can without hurting you, walking towards your bedroom with careful steps. Your toes curl as he settles back against the mattress, slowly guiding your body down with him so you are both laid out horizontally on the bed, your knees dug tightly into his sides and your fingertips still clutching his shoulders relentlessly.

Sugawara runs his fingers through your hair, ruffling your tresses in a soothing manner as his chest begins to rumble with a melody. Your whole body buzzes as his lips maneuver in the tendrils of your hair surrounding your face, mouth pressing warm kisses to your scalp as the humming grows louder, more confident. Tears are flowing silently down your cheeks, staining your skin and his shirt, but neither of you seem to care, rather paying attention to the way you soak one another in like you have been a person starved for water and this is your first sip after days without drink.

It takes you a few minutes, but his humming in tandem with the ministrations of his hands soothes your mind into a dreamlike state. You release your grip on his shirt, smoothing the wrinkles in the fabric, if only to give yourself something else to pay attention to other than his searching eyes. Sugawara allows you a moment of exploration before his index finger is crooked underneath your chin, tilting your jaw upward so he can look you directly in the eyes.

“Stop being so hard on yourself,” he murmurs, voice kind despite the circumstances, “you’re still learning, adjusting. It won’t happen overnight.”

“And if it never happens?” Your tone is curt, words biting. You grit your teeth together and the creaking of your molars makes your bones shudder. A wobbling chin gives way to another bout of tears, but you do not falter this time, rather looking him in the eyes than succumbing to the exhausting heave of another sob, “What if I’m never the same? What if I can’t- what if you don’t love this person?”

Sugawara’s hand drifts from your chin to your cheek, his thumb brushing along the apple of your face, swooping downward to trace your jaw. A gentle smile tugs on the corners of his mouth and you want to scold him for laughing at your pain, but the faraway look in his eyes suggests that he is thinking of another time, possibly one much more simple in nature where you were sitting on his lap just like this, but there was a stream of knowledge, of combined thought, that flowed between the two of you. You knew one another, backwards and forwards and inside out, but now there is a barrier built, one that has kept him from teaching you who you are and from you allowing him to take the chance to do such a thing.

He is kind, something you suspect he has always been, when his mouth unhinges to let his words out of their cage, “Better or worse, angel. And if this is the worst life has to throw at us, then so be it.”

There is a hesitancy in his gaze, but he leans forward to brush a kiss against your cheek despite it, “I would rather go through this with you than be in a picture-perfect situation with anyone else.”

The sight of him in tandem with the brutal, raw honesty of his beautiful words overwhelms you, like a wave crashing along the shore, suffocating the sand. You want to be the beach, to be greeted with his kissing crest each time he chooses to seek you out despite the call to the sea, and it is that thought alone that ignites your need to seek purchase with your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. Sugawara’s eyes go wide, if only because he does not want you to do this out of desperation or obligation, but out of choice and choice alone.

You can tell that he wants to say something, but before you lose your nerve and before he says something that will make the both of you overanalyze, you have crashed your mouth to his in a bruising kiss.

His fingers are hesitant to clutch at your sides, but once he realizes that you are not going to pull away, a familiar desperation sinks into his movements and he has you caught by the waist to anchor you to him. Your thumbs press into the pulse points on either side of his neck, like you were checking to make sure his heart is still beating. Sugawara’s breath stutters and he tilts his head so your chins bump to tear you apart, “Honey, I-”

“Kou,” your voice is quiet, seeking out solace in his silence.

Your tone is exploratory, and the sound of his given name shortened in the way you have said it a dozen times makes his head spin, but you sound awkward when you say it, as if you were taking it for a test drive and it’s not the car you were comfortable driving. You swallow and try again, “K-Kou, I want you to stay here tonight, with me.”

The edges of his thumbs slip beneath the hem of your shirt, and for the first time since he pushed his lids back earlier to take you in, he realizes that you’re clad in one of his old college tees. It was one of your favorites, a staple in your sleeping collection, a comforting item you sought out when you were distressed beyond measure. He wonders if your subconscious held on to this thought, and brought you this tattered, worn piece of clothing to give you some semblance of healing in your despondent time of need.

“As you wish,” Sugawara whispers against the bow of your lips, your mouths brushing with every syllable. He smiles, a gentle pecking kiss nestled on the corner of your cheek before he speaks again, “Now, we both need to rest.”

His words are accented by his body curling around you, turned to the side so he can wrap you up in the quilt that has been strewn across the bed in your haste of sleep. Your body is encased in warmth, a mixture of his natural body heat and the cocoon the blanket creates. The two of you tuck into one another as if you were built to be together, your pieces perfectly slotting into the spaces his body creates.

Silence stretches for what feels like hours, nothing but the sound of your beating hearts and quiet breaths to fill the air. You run your thumb along the stretch of his collarbone, gnawing on your lower lip as you work up the courage to speak.

“Go ahead,” his voice is gravelly with the desire to succumb to sleep, muffled from his position of being tucked into you, lips in your hair. “What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you whisper in fear, unable to recognize even your own voice. You swallow, the heat of tears welling up behind your lids already overwhelming enough without the stumble of your words to accent your anxiety, “And I’m scared I can’t be who you want me to be.”

Sugawara surprises you with a chuckle breathed into your hair, a light, lilting sound making his throat hum, “Oh, angel. You’re my everything, how could you ever be a burden to me?”

“I-I dunno,” you can feel yourself starting to panic, the darkness closing in on you until it’s choking you from the inside out, “Wh-What if I don’t laugh the way I used to? O-Or what if, uh, what if I don’t like the same foods? What if-”

You are hushed by the warmth of his mouth on yours, stealing your frightened, nonsensical words straight from your throat as you gasp against his teeth. A firm palm tilts your head upward, fingertips grazing the curve of your jaw and neck, soothing you with a simple touch. He massages his digits into your shoulder as he pulls away, watching carefully as you chase after him for another display of affection, as if you were searching for even more reassurance.

“Hush now, love,” he settles back into you, circling you in his arms and tucking your head beneath his chin. Your knee presses between his thighs and you find your hands nudging underneath his shirt, seeking out the skin-on-skin contact. Sugawara litters kisses in your hair, almost like he were planting a garden of affection, begging it to grow as he encourages it with kiss after kiss.

You are on the precipice of sleep, your body worn down from your anxious efforts of before, when you hear his next words mumbled into the skin of your neck, barely audible even in the utter silence of your bedroom. The few syllables make your heart press stiffly against your ribcage, begging to be let free, like a caged dove sitting pretty within the confines of your chest.

“And to think,” he whispers, “I get to fall in love with you all over again, every time. How exciting, right?”

You want to laugh, to indulge him in his monologue, but your body is heavy, weighed down from the tears and the pressure of all the time before this that you can remember. Finally, you feel like you are floating, the only thing keeping you tethered to this dimension is the cuff of his arms around your waist, circling you and holding you tight, piecing back together every broken part of your soul.

Sugawara’s breath tickles your ear, and you swear you hear him snore. And you might be making up the last few words that he breathes before he is overwhelmed by unconsciousness-

“I can’t wait to fall in love with whoever you are tomorrow.”

But you pray to whoever is listening that it’s the truth.

a/n: wow i wrote most of this while delirious and drinking yoohoo so please don’t come for me if it doesn’t make sense.

my original plot idea was to have reader have continuous amnesia where she forgets her memories every few years, and sugawara always manages to get her to fall in love with him every single time, but that fic would have been upwards of 20k and i didn’t allot myself enough time to write it, which i’m upset about. maybe i’ll do an extension of this fic sometime, but i just feel like it won’t be as impactful. u g h. alas, here we are. i hope that you enjoyed it! i plan to write more sugawara in the future. and thanks again to the hqhq for putting on this collab! the nsfw one is next -- i have daddy daichi for that one! 💕

#sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara x you #sugawara x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #hq x y/n #morgan writes hq #my writing #haikyuucreations

281 notes · View notes

kyoonqs · 3 years

Text

iluso amor ; first part.

↬ summary: Cora has always considered herself elusive, easy to bore and adventurous to the last fiber of her body. One day for no apparent reason, she appears in front of the manager of a globetrotting circus passing through the city where she is temporarily staying to fill her life with magic. Baekhyun, as serious as he is handsome, has no intention of playing a role other than on the main canvas of the circus. He decides to separate Cora from her life of fantasies created by her travels and sets out to show her reality as raw and cruel as he knows it. Or so he believes.

Will time run out too quickly before love and passion devour him and he decides to risk everything for a love that lasts… Forever?

↬ pairing: baekhyun x cora fem!reader.

↬ circus!au ; illusionist!baek x hitchhiker!oc ; strangers to lovers au!

↬ genre: fluff ; romance ; angst ; drama.

↬ length: 2.8 k words.

↬ tag list: @changshapatrol @spacebyuns @fluffyhunnie @soos-goddess @hoho-cham @shadoukiti @sunbyun21 @mangobaek @suhotly @pororodks @bbhbae

If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know!

↬ masterlist.

↬ author’s note: this is my first time writing a series, hope you enjoy it and any feedback will be appreciated. thanks for reading! ♡

Vanilla, caramel and butter scents invaded her nostrils the moment she stepped on the re-centering and she reminded herself that from now on she should get used to the smell due to her timely madness. Beyond her view, occasionally blocked by some old trucks, a red and yellowish-white circus tent loomed along with several smaller tents and a host of caravans. The largest tent, dotted with gold stars, had a large, deep blue sign bearing the name of the circus and its owner. In addition to a few tethered horses, Cora saw a number of huge cages with animals and all kinds of unsavory people, including some pretty dirty men, most of them encrusted with mud and rust.

She was beginning to regret the moment when she had ripped the worn out brochure from the lamppost and the idea of joining the circus scene rose out of boredom. Yes, that was the case, curiosity had killed the cat and she could not contain herself that late afternoon when she had driven her bicycle past the front of the tents and the multicolored costumes of the artists had simultaneously caught her eye. But now it was not like that, the moment she advanced towards the train car where she was to present herself for the position, everyone stopped what they were doing and fixed their eyes on her. Without thinking too much, she stepped forward steadily as her sneakers sank into the sandy ground and she staggering as she stared at the ticket booth where the same brochure she was carrying was presented.

Away from the scrutinizing stares that once haunted her, she took the steps of the carriage two at a time and froze when she saw him inside. He had hair as dark as molten chocolate and chiseled features that would make his face look too beautiful if it weren't for the firm jaw and menacing frown. Men who possessed that brutal appeal had always attracted her but at that moment she would have chosen someone less intimidating to interview her. She tried to calm herself by reminding herself that she would not have to spend more than a couple of hours with him and that it would all be over as soon as she explained clearly why she was applying for the job, which she was still completely unaware of.

She cleared her throat and began with her introduction, first name, last name, place of birth, previous jobs and reason why she was there - from the latter she omitted boredom as a possible factor. The man in question did not give her a single glance and, of course, did not speak a word. She stared straight ahead, the unyielding lines of that hard profile making her skin tingle.

–“I, I want to learn about the trade...” She swallowed.

–“I'm really interested in the job, whatever it is...” She swallowed again.

–“Bastard.”

Until the man in front of her turned his head and looked at her, she didn't realize what she had said. He arched a dark brow with mild curiosity, as if he wasn't sure he had heard correctly. Her impulsiveness took control and she felt her lips tremble, for it was clear that they didn't share her problems in restraining her inappropriate thoughts.

The metal legs of the chair where he was sitting screeched against the hard floor of the wagon. He stood up, ironed the wrinkles of his pants with his hands and looking into her eyes for the first time, he said in a stern and inflexible voice:

–“You are hired. Meet me after the last show behind the main tent.” And without further ado, he passed her by without giving any other explanation.

She could barely suppress a sigh. She directed a furtive glance at the boy, still nameless and wondered what she had gotten into but an irrelevant part of her was dying for new adventures and without a doubt, he would be the greatest from that precise moment.

–“Ladies and gentlemen, the show is about to begin! Come closer everyone!”

The man who made the announcement was the same man who was encouraging people to buy tickets the day the circus had arrived in town, although now he was wearing a red master of ceremonies jacket. At that moment Cora appeared before the young man in the carriage, leading a black horse by the reins with one hand. It was then that she realized that he was not only the manager of the circus but also one of its performers.

He was dressed in a velvet jacket, a velvet vest with nothing underneath and black trousers tucked into high leather boots that snuggled over his calves. A jewel-encrusted band of all colors surrounded his torso accompanied by fine iridescent chains and some ribbons of razo that fell from his pocket. He also carried a rolled whip hanging from one shoulder. Curious about the skills he would display in the arena –she had gotten one of the dancers to tell her when they would leave and to her surprise it would be the next morning– she followed the man with his eyes. At that moment he saw her. The decision she had made had been too recent to seek a way out and she still did not feel comfortable talking to him. Cora tucked her hair nervously behind her ear and refuse to take her gaze from the horse following him when he began to walk towards her.

–“There are unsavory people hanging around the circus. Until you know how everything goes, stay where the rest of the audience is, always” he told her as he adjusted some rings on his slender fingers.

–“Understood.” She responded, since she had just promised herself that she was going to put forth her best effort and not get carried away by first impressions that day.

–“Come in and take a look at the show.” His tone was firm, despite the fact that she was already heading back to where she was previously.

–“Wait! What is your name!?” She asked hastily, not realizing that perhaps she had sounded somewhat desperate.

He glanced at her over his shoulder with the corner of his mouth slightly curved. “Baekhyun!” He said, chuckling, and with that he returned to his place in line with the rest of the artists.

She was still feeling hot as she circled the crowd and entered the tent through the back entrance. She found a free spot in the stands. They were weathered white-painted planks of wood, hard and narrow, with nowhere else to rest one’s feet but on the seat of the spectators in the row below. But she quickly set aside her feelins of discomfort the awkwardness when the lights dimmed, a drum roll crescendoed and a spotlight illuminated the emcee on center court.

–“Welcome to the happiest circus in Valencia, welcome to Gran Fele Circus!”

The music exploded, played by a band consisting of two musicians with drums, a synthesizer, and a consola. A lively version of New York, New York began to play and a white horse entered in the arena with a girl who carried a flag with the name of the circus. The other artists followed, carrying colorful banners, smiling and waving to the crowd.

It was the troupe of acrobats that caught Cora's attention; three handsome men and a beautiful woman –whom she identified as the dancer who had helped her earlier– named Laia, dressed in gold sequins, shiny leggings and thick makeup. They were followed by a group of horsemen, clowns, jugglers, and trained dogs.

Baekhyun entered the arena alone, riding his fierce horse, and unlike the other artists, he didn’t wave his hands or smile. As he circled the track, he seemed such a distant and mysterious being. He was no stranger to the presence of the people, but somehow he remained isolated and gave a strange dignity to the colorful display.

As the show progressed, Cora was amazed at such talent.

Suddenly, the lights went out and the music died away. A blue spotlight illuminated the master of ceremonies, the only one occupying the dark center court. His voice turned dramatically low and a haunting, folk melody began to play in the background.

–“How many times have we wondered if we were crazy? How many times did someone make us doubt our actions? How many times has someone come before us with the idea of changing our thinking? Sanity makes us useless, many times it is better to be crazy. Life is made for taking risks and if you don't think so, let the next person convince you otherwise...before time runs out.”

The lights began to gradually increase in intensity, the music resounded and Baekhyun entered the middle of a path that seemed illuminated by small streetlights, thin beams of light that danced around him and that were reflected in the small sequins of his suit. With indisputable ease, he untangled the whip dangling from a waistband and sliced through the air in all directions with it. Small particles, like glitter, floated in the air suspended around him. He performed a series of skillfully executed feats that were both daring and dramatic. They had brought a few accessories onto the floor during the emcee's presentation: ribbon targets, fluorescent balloons, chandeliers, and more. Circling the runway, he popped the balloons one by one, and a bright red explosion, like drops of blood, shot through the air with each snap of the whip.

The lights dimmed until only he was illuminated by the spotlight, and he grabbed a second whip and made them pop and dance in all directions with such masculine grace, Cora gasped. The dance was increasing, with faster and faster movements and, as if by magic, the two whips became one. With a powerful twist of his arm, Baekhyun lifted him above his head to set him off in flames. The audience gasped, the lights went out, and the flaming whip danced wildly through the darkness. When the lights came on again, he had vanished.

–“What are you doing here? Hasn't anyone taken you to the motorhome yet?”

Cora roused herself, her eyes snapping open. Looking up, she saw the same deep brown eyes plaguing since afternoon that day. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was but then everything came to mind: the circus, the manager, the show, his whip.

She suddenly became aware of Baekhyun's hands on her shoulders, it was the only thing that had kept her from falling off the old stool that she had been seated on while waiting for him. She had decided to wait there since it was the most illuminated area around the tent, next to government mandated public toilets where there was still a queue to pass them.

She shifted uneasily under his hands and tried to regain her balance with the idea that he would release her.

–“Could you tell me what time it is? I've lost track of it waiting here for you.”

–“It's about 30 minutes to midnight,” Baekhyun put his hands in the pockets of his coat. Instead of the suit he donned for the show, he wore jeans ripped at the knees and a white t-shirt printed with the word ‘Supreme’ in terms of design. Despite the casual attire he didn’t look any less intimidating.

–“Look dulzura, you will have to get used to my presence, since I will be your guide and housemate from now on”. It wasn’t as if Cora hadn’t tried to do it before, in fact she had been attracted to him the moment she met him, only his personality –and now a whip– had slowed her down. He, at her lack of response, muttered something under his breath and after a sigh, spoke again.

–“Come on dulzura, I'll show you where you'll sleep for the next few months.” He turned and left at a fast pace to where the group of caravans were together, paying little attention to the fact that she had luggage that weighed a ton, the consequence of her idea to buy a memorable garment from each city she had visited until now.

–“Wait!” Her scream had an edge of hysteria, but he seemed not to hear it as he continued walking toward the line of caravans. She rubbed the sole of her sneakers across the ruff, gathering some on the toe of it as she dragged her foot. With a gasp, Cora started walking again. Baekhyun approached two vehicles that were parked next to each other. The closest one was a modern white caravan, it looked spacious inside and on its roof you could see a satellite dish. Next to it was another caravan, dented and rusty that appeared to have been silver previously. She begged to herself that it was the space caravan and not the other.

He stood in front of the ugly rusty trailer, opened the door, and disappeared inside. Cora grunted but conceded since she had stayed in worse places. Perhaps the inside wasn’t as hideous as it looked on the outside. Baekhyun reappeared at the door a moment later and watched as she approached fighting with her backpack towards him. When she finally reached the metal step, he offered her a cynical smile.

–“Home, sweet home, dulzura. Come in and settle”.

Cora had always found the Spanish language something to delight in but this was the third time the nickname had come out of his mouth directed at her and she could swear that the way the word rolled on his tongue and briefly hissed before pronouncing the syllable "zu", surely it was close to the song of the angels that received you when you entered paradise.

She sniffed and climbed the four steps that separated her and...the interior was much worse than the outside. Narrow, messy, it smelled musty and old, with a hint of mothball. In front of her was a miniature kitchen, the countertop metal, it had spots with peeling paint. To the right of the kitchen, the faded upholstery of the small sofa was barely visible under a pile of books, newspapers, and men's clothing. In addition, she saw an old, medium-sized refrigerator, wooden cabinets, and a bed with rumpled sheets.

Baekhyun stared at her blankly, genuinely doubting whether she had noticed.

–“It is a small caravan as you can see, but it is comfortable and cozy in the cold. It's all there is and all I have.”

The bed took up most of the back of the caravan, nothing separated it from the rest of the "rooms", the only thing that seemed to be secluded was the bathroom –which she would make sure to explore as soon as she had the chance. On the sheets there were tangled clothes, a towel, and something she couldn't make out from where she was standing.

–“I think I'll sleep on the couch, it would be better…”

He gazed absently at the tip of his foot, then looked up. She stared into those dark eyes –which depending on the light could be paler or even more blackened– and she felt a chill run down her spine, followed by another strange sensation that she did not want to examine further.

He slowly raised his hand, adjusting a lock of hair that had been tousled while she was struggling with her backpack, Cora froze and pursed her lips as she felt the softness of his thumb brush the hollow under her ear with something that it seemed like a caress.

–“Do whatever you want, dulzura. I have to go, I still have things to do.”

Cora gasped when she realized she should have felt danger but her skin had taken the brush of his thumb with pleasure. She felt Baekhyun's insolent hand move away from her hair as he pulled away from her, even though he had left something light on the trailing of her ear. The trailer door swung on its hinges. Baekhyun looked at her and stepped out of it, dropping his gaze from her face to a nonexistent point. Once he was out of sight, she reached for the object that was barely tickling her cheekbone and held the geranium between her fingers with a furtive smile on her face.

↬ This is all for this chapter, I promise to try to write more in the following parts. I will try to update every Saturday. Honorable mention: Oliv (@changshapatrol) without her this story would be nothing, thank you for your patience and trust in me. I love you, a lots ♡

#baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x oc #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun serie #baekhyun series #baekhyun au #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo scenario #exo scenarios #exo au #iluso amor

117 notes · View notes

sugardaddytonystark · 3 years

Text

Release Life’s Rapture (part 3)

You stay at your godfather’s ludus for the summer, where you meet Jacobus, his champion gladiator.

author: sugardaddytonystark pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader word count: 2038

masterlist

x picture by @264jana x

That night, you dream of making love to Sol, god of the sun. His hair is as brown as the earth, eyes deep and blue as the dawning sky. His skin is bronzed from the sun to which he so lovingly attends, and in return for his diligence, his entire body is encircled in a halo of everlasting golden light.

You and your god are lain upon a large tanned hide, abed a field of green grass, deepened to a dim blue-green in the dark night. Sol looms above you, a single point of light against an otherwise black sky. He is bare as you, and where the god touches you, your flesh burns, his hands too hot for a mere mortal to withstand, his mouth too scalding. But there’s always a price for pleasure, and a night with a being as divine as he is worth the pain in exchange.

So you wrap your thighs tight around the god’s hips as he thrusts into you, unrelentless, his cock thick and heavy inside of your aching cunt. He’s filling you up, stretching you full, making you feel a burning so different from the fevered warmth of his skin against your own. Your back arches as you seek out more contact, your heated, human flesh so fragile against the sun god’s searing skin.

Your lover has your wrists above your head, one of his wide, rough palms holding them in place. The other is gripping your jaw, turning your face away from his so that he may nose at your throat and cheek and ear. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine and when Sol speaks, words like whispers so deep and low, you can’t make out their meaning, but delight in the sounds all the same.

Your cries reach out into the deep, empty, endless night. The noise echo back into your ears and you feel blissfully alone - detached from the world and your existence, everything narrowed down to you and your god and this familiar but indescribable thing coiling in your stomach.

Your breath catches as you feel Sol’s pace quicken, his hands tightening around your wrists and jaw. He bites down against the curve of your neck and hot tears spill down your cheeks as you feel him find his release inside of you.

You sob and shake, you ache and burn. Sol whispers your name back into your mouth, guiding you closer and closer and closer with his hands and his cock and his words. You feel him around you, inside you, urging you on, but when you finally reach your peak, it’s not the god’s name that you call out in prayer.

Blessed night has settled into another day, your god forced to return to the sky once more to fulfill his duty, leaving you with mere memories of his blazing touch. But, as a remembrance, he sends sunlight streaming through your open window, stroking your body and keeping you warm and satiated until the time may come for the god to descend upon you once again.

You long to stay abed, to wait for that moment when night falls so that you may once again greet your lover with open arms and open legs. You want to once again lose yourself to dreams - a much more appealing prospect than this waking nightmare. Even half asleep, you feel the sudden sting of freshly remembered heartbreak.

You’re grateful for your god - the divine Sol who saw you hurting and granted you solace from your pain. Hair like the earth, you remember, like the soil from whence life springs. Rich brown and lush and soft beneath your fingers. His body built like it was made for toil, strong and deliberately fashioned. And his eyes – blue like the sky. Like the sea.

Unfortunately, your companion, Octavia, does not allow you to dwell in fantasy. She’s no longer beside you in bed, always early to rise and greet the day before the sun has had a chance to ascend.

“You’re awake,” she says, more a command than a question.

“Yes. And I had the most wonderful dream,” you tell her, giving up all thoughts of returning to slumber as you stretch out along the bed, arms up and back arched. “I fucked a god. He set my body aflame and then I turned to ash in his hands.”

“And this was a good dream?” Octavia asks, incredulous.

You sigh. “It was magnificent.”

You sit up in bed as you recall your dream, rubbing your wrists, sore from where your lover pinned you down in his blistering grasp. Octavia reaches out and grabs your wrists in her own hand, looking it over, and when you look down at it as well, you see bruises instead of burns. The marks of someone other than your god upon you.

“Better to suffer a lover forged from dreams,” Octavia says, releasing your wrist, “than one based in cruel reality.”

“One and the same,” you reply softly. Because you’re no fool. You know the being who visits your dream is both god and man, one image of the other. “Why do you think Jacobus so cruel?” you continue, louder this time. “Do you think he’s always been that way?”

“I think that you should remove him from your thoughts,” Octavia tells you as she returns, holding a cream length of fine fabric for your stola. “Would it please you to wear this today?”

“He is well removed,” you tell her in reply, and Octavia scoffs.

You pinch the fabric between your fingers, considering. The color is too bland to convey how you feel this morning. You need something deeper, and more rich. “I have something blue, do I not? Like… like the sky right at the height of the sun’s ascent. Something like that?”

Octavia raises an eyebrow at you, unimpressed. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

After you groom and dress, you find yourself on the villa balcony, where Alexander and Ophelia are eating their morning meal. On the table before them is a modest spread of cheese and bread and fruit. In their hands are ever-present cups of wine. Behind the pair, a slave cools them off with a large fan made of feathers as they lounge upon their cushioned chaises.

The heat is almost overwhelming, even in the mid-morning when the sun has yet to reach its peak. Already, a thin sheen of sweat has gathered on your skin. Already, you can feel the fevered weight of existence heavy on your shoulders.

The heat and the drought has been a source of discontentment for all in Capua, the shortage of water drying out even the most well-attended bath and turning once-fertile soil into dust. Below the balcony, the gladiators are kicking up the dust and the sand with every movement, the sun baking the grains into a hard-packed floor for the men to move around upon. It crumbles underfoot and sends clouds of earth into the air, covering the men and all things else lowly enough to get in its way.

But this is all commonplace to you now. The crash of wooden sword against wooden shield, of dull-tipped spear and trident, of pain and triumph, have all come to be familiar sounds to you and this morning fares no differently. The men have no doubt been at it for hours already, waking early to begin their training, breaking for their morning meal, then back at it once more before you were even out of bed.

You chance a look down at the men, and your eyes are immediately drawn toward Jacobus, brandishing two swords against another gladiator with sword and shield. His usual demeanor is darkened, his ferocity obvious by tenfold today, and you can’t help but believe that you are the cause.

You wonder if the gladiator sought companionship last night after you were so viciously turned away. You never sent anyone in your stead, as he requested, not able to bear the thought of another giving him the pleasure that you so desperately wish you could give. Did Jacobus blame you for soiling the night of such a celebrated victory? Will he ever forgive you your desire and your deceit?

The champion looks up toward the balcony, blue eyes ablaze, and you avert your gaze by busying yourself with choosing just the right bunch of grapes from a serving tray held up to you by one of Alexander’s slaves.

“The men are of a poor form today,” you muse, attempting to steady your heart as you pluck a grape off of its stem. You place the fruit in your mouth and find the courage to look back down onto the training ground. With both relief and disappointment, you find that Jacobus has once again resumed his training.

“Wine and whores do have a way of dulling the senses,” Alexander replies. “Which reminds me, how did the champion enjoy his gift?”

You give your godfather a false smile, already weary of the reminder of the night passed. “She was well received,” you answer, not missing the way Octavia looks at you out of the corner of your eye. “Who would not enjoy such a remarkable tribute?”

Before Alexander can respond, the snap of a whip resonates through the training ground and up onto the balcony, drawing the attention of those upon it. You take a step closer and both Alexander and Ophelia stand to get a better look at what is transpiring down below.

“Attend!” Doctore bellows, voice carrying through the air. The men halt their training and turn their attention to Fury, the Doctore – trainer – of Alexander’s ludus. “Forget everything you learned outside these walls. For that is the world of men. We are more! We are gladiators!”

The men cheer, a great roar rising up to where you stand that nearly forces you back in its enthusiasm. Your hands grip the banister to keep you steady, listening intently as if Doctore was speaking to you and not the gladiators in his charge.

“Study. Train. Bleed!” Doctore continues. “And one day your name will be legend, spoken in hushed whispers of fear and awe. As the city speaks of Jacobus, the Champion of Capua!”

More cheers as the gladiator stands distinguished among his brothers. In your chest, you feel a swell of pride. But also, irritation. You’ll have no solace from your pain here and you will not waste your day grieving over what should have been. You feign disinterest while taking a bite of cheese.

“But his legend was not birthed in the arena,” Doctore says. “It was given life here, in this ludus. Under the sting of my whip! Attack!”

The men go at it again with a renewed vigor, grunting and howling, wooden swords clashing with dull but resonating thuds. How easily these men are worked into a fervor! And how easily your passion swells likewise. This business of gladiators is a sordid thing, but you would be false to say that there is no art in it. Surely, anyone who watches someone such as Jacobus move could see the skill and cleverness in every gesture.

“Doctore, attend,” Alexander calls to Doctore, then turns to kiss Ophelia’s temple. “We are off to market.”

His words pique your interest. You feel as though you will go mad if you stay stuck in the villa all day with nothing to entertain you save the sounds of the gladiators training. Besides, you think you should buy something new for the reception for the Vulcanalia. This will be the first time in ages that you will be able to socialize with people other than your godfather and his wife, and you plan to make the most of it.

"Godfather, allow me to accompany you,” you say. “Weeks in Capua and I have yet to go to market!"

Alexander considers you for a moment and then nods his head, giving you the approval that you need. Your smile must be infectious because the otherwise somber man’s lips upturn slightly as he notes your excitement.

“Let us away, then,” Alexander says to you, then turns and heads inside the villa, you following close behind.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #dahlia writes stuff #fic release life's rapture

50 notes · View notes

nessarolla-in-constant-flux · 3 years

Text

✨ Top5 for MCU ✨

Because I like making lists and I was bored. LET’S GO!

STARTING WITH...

5.Black Panther-The thing I love about Black Panther the most was the look and feel of Wakanda. Every costume a thing of beauty, every actor selling the realness of Wakandan culture making it immersive as fuck. Like I could swear this place is real if I didn't know I was watching a movie I'd believe it was real. T’challa and Shuri are the best. This movie is stunning and overall a solid movie.

4.Spiderman: Homecoming- As far as I can remember the 90s Spiderman cartoon was my first dance with Marvel superheroes and has since been my favorite. With the Andrew Garfield movie killing itself I had little hope for this movie at first but was pleasantly surprised by it. It was like a time warp throwing me back into the throws of my childhood that made me love Spiderman again. But I'd have to say that my favorite scene that solidified this for me is a bit fucked. The scene is that moment when Spiderman is stuck under the rumble of a building and tries to get out but fails. In this moment of desperation he's back to being Peter Parker. It was such a jarring moment but a welcome one that gave me faith in this Spiderman. Love it.

3.Thor (The first one)-I'm a big BIG fan of Norse gods and it was a no brainer that I would watch this movie for that alone and the added bonus of Natalie Portman(Forever my Padme) had me sold! Looking back on it now Thor is a cheesy romp through Loki's evil plot and Thor just trying to find his humanity. It made him endearing in the way he learns that power, glory and a clearly massive ego isn't everything in life. To appreciate the little things and hold them close was really nice to see learned from the usual meat head fodder. I like Darcy too and I feel like she was a proxy for us, the audience, reacting to all the weird shit happening. Great movie for a good laugh. AND it gave us the birth of Tom Hiddleston as Loki so that’s more even more bonus points!

2.Gaurdians of the Galaxy VOL. 2-The relationship growth between Gamora and Nebula is my everything. The movie is beautiful in terms of color and how it was shot but the show stealer for me was definitely their relationship. I don't have a sister but I do have siblings and we don't always see eye to eye so it was nice to see them talk (or you know blow up) about their feelings and how it's destroyed them both emotionally and for Nebula physically. Both of them victims of their father and his cruel nature of pinning them against each other. Not to mention that the knowledge that they had other siblings who aren't in the picture anymore. They're the only two to have survived, that's some heavy shit. Gorgeous movie, very fun, and Mantis is one of my new favorite additions.

1.Wandavision- And the most recent addiction to the MCU is by far my most favorite thing Marvel has ever done! I'd become a fan of Wanda since her debut in the MCU and throughout the movies it was sad to see that all that surrounded her was sadness and death. She wasn't much of a character other than that. Well this show does an amazing job each episode unfolding the layers of her grief and how she comes to terms with it. The love she felt for Vision really comes through and it resonated with me. What are the lengths we'd go to to bring back the ones we love? That is the question and Marvel has answered it amazingly. The look and feel of the show and how it captured all of the different eras of t.v. is a work of art. The music, the set design, and the costumes were on point! I also used to watch a lot of TV Land as a kid so the black and white portions of the show really hit a nostalgic nerve for me. The show is lovingly crafted by everyone who worked on it and I kid you know I've watch it like 4 separate times. I cry every time. I'm also really excited for Monica's roll as the new Photon! Darcy and Jimmy's rolls were also a welcome surprise as they were a uncanny duo that I hope come back more and more. Not to mention Visions new journey to come.

So yes for now WandaVision is my most favorite thing in the world at this very moment and I can not wait for what's next! I'm even gonna watch Falcon and The Winter Soldier which to be honest I wasn't too excited about but now I'm into it. Thank you for reading if you did and what is your top MCU movie or show that's come out and why?

24 notes · View notes

puckngrind · 3 years

Text

What's In a Name: Easter 2023 - J. Toews

Where we left off: Jon and Bekah welcomed Lincoln into the world in 2020. Scarlett was born in February. This is BEFORE the epilogue

Warnings: smut, language, postpartum, babies, Easter

Word Count: 2,500

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

2023.

“Maybe hosting the team less than 2 months after giving birth was a bad iiiiiidddee... uh.” Jon rounds the corner to see Bekah bopping around the kitchen with Lincoln water coloring an Easter bunny at the table and the swishy almost 2 month old, Scarlett, wrapped up on her chest.

"Quit playing games with my heart... with my heart..." Bekah sings out as Jon closes the distance between them with a laugh. He reaches into her hair and pulls out her air pods. "Holy... Tae!" Bekah jumped while clutching the slightly asleep newborn.

"Hi Momma. Whatcha makin' here?" Jon popped a marshmallow from the bowl in front of them into his mouth.

"Peep cars. I don't know Tae. I saw it and thought the kids would like it. I'm nervous about this egg hunt tomorrow and I shouldn't be since this isn't our first rodeo." Jon wraps his wife up from behind and kisses her ear to whisper.

"It maybe wasn't the best idea but you are doing amazing, also what do you need me to do?" Jon kisses the shell of Bekah's ear again and she leans into him with a hum escaping from her lips. "I can take care of that later..." Bekah elbows him and he laughs out. "Seriously Beks, do you want me to take Scar? Assemble these Bunny mobiles? Paint with Linc? Use me. Well, in a way the kids can see." Jon clears his throat.

"Jonathan Bryan, you are pushing the line there." Bekah turns around to give him the mom look he's become accustom to since Lincoln started having an opinion that wasn't the same as hers.

"Okay, okay. I'm just glad you got the all clear at your appointment this week." Jon runs his fingers down Bekah's sides to hold her hips. "Let me take Scar and we will check out Lincoln's creations and let you do this." Jon reaches into the wrap and freeing his daughter. Her arms and legs stretch instinctually and whimpers before landing on her daddy's chest with a coo of approval.

"Are we really calling her Scar?" Bekah questions while taking off the baby wearing wrap. "Like..." Bekah runs her finger over Jon's scar from work. "Scars? Injuries? Not great memories?"

"I mean we don't have to but I don't think if it as being scars Beks. Plus not all my scars are bad memories. Some really good ones too." Jon winks, kisses Scarlett's head and then Bekah's lips. "Get back to creating, we will be water coloring over here." Jon sits next to Lincoln and gets lost in the Easter activities while stealing looks towards the kitchen to watch Bekah float around working on creating the most perfect Easter party.

"Well, it's 10pm and she should sleep for about two hours." Bekah shuts their bedroom door after feeding Scarlett.

"I'll take the 6am feeding since we have morning skate before everyone comes over." Jon comes out of the bathroom in just his boxer briefs. "Does that work, Momma?" Jon pulls Bekah's body flush with his and ghosts her lips.

"Yes." Bekah whispers kissing his lips gently.

"Was that to the feeding or what I was talking about earlier, because I'm fine waiting, you know that. I..."

"Both, Tae. Both. Maybe let me go freshen up, 'kay?" She stands on her toes to kiss his forehead and Jon just shakes his head and starts to argue but let’s her retreat to the bathroom.

Bekah emerges a few moments later to find her husband naked and hard as a rock with his hands behind his head, staring at the doorway to the bath. "Well, Mr. Toews, you are clearly ready." Bekah dims the lights almost to dark and tugs at her husband's shirt covering all her insecurities.

"I have been patiently waiting to let you heal and rest but I've missed this." Jon stands and takes no time to remove his shirt from Bekah's body. Kissing down her jawline then to her collar bone.

"Slow, Tae, take it slow, please." Bekah's breath catches in her throat as Jon pulls her leg up and his length presses into her skin.

"I remember and I got you, Beks." Jon gracefully moves both of their bodies to the bed and hovers over his beautiful wife. Kissing between her breasts she goes to stop him and Jon catches Bekah’s wrists with a single hand but releases them to kiss down her stomach. Bekah flinches and moves her hands again to stop him. "Rebekah, we are good. I love you. All of you. Forever and ever. Doesn't matter what's different from bringing our children into the world. Could you please let me show you. Okay?" Jon looks deep into his wife's eyes and she nods in agreement. Jon continues making his way to her core. His tongue is intentional and gentle. Bekah's body breaks out in goosebumps with the sensation.

"Oh, Tae." Bekah's body jolts in response to his increased movement. Jon continues until Bekah pulls his hair hard making him look up. "I'm fine. Sorry. It feels amazing." Bekah loosens her grip and Jon's fingers slide into her core and curl while he sucks on her clit. It doesn't take much to make her orgasm crash over her. "Fuck. Tae. Here. Please.” Bekah pants out. Jon recognizes her commands and moves up her body. He kisses her lips intently and moves to her neck. Bekah’s body arches into him as Jon’s fingers run down one side of her body.

"Ready Mon Amour?" Jon pushes Bekah's hair off of her face, tucking it behind one ear. Kissing her lips with so much desire she feels her body react again. Without say anything Bekah moves her legs to his ass and presses him towards her. Jon takes her cue to slide deep in and holds. Focusing on kissing Bekah’s ear, neck, shoulder.

"Tae, move. I'm ready." Bekah rolls her hips up and Jon starts a rhythm. Worshiping her body as he thrusts in and out. "Jon, you can let your's go. I feel you holding back." Bekah whispers into his ear as he presses his lips to her shoulder once again. Jon's hand slips down under Bekah's leg and pulls it up further to press his length deep inside and releases. French laced expletives fill her ears. Jon shifts and Bekah's feet press into the back of his legs and a loud moan slips out of her mouth. The orgasm surprised her and she covers her mouth to suppress the involuntary sounds escaping her which makes Jon quake with laughter.

"Babe, did you not realize you were going to so soon?" Jon kisses the sweat off Bekah's hairline and then stares into her eyes.

"It's been awhile, okay?" Bekah covers her eyes from the lust filled stare of her husband. "How are you still hard?" She wiggles from overstimulation with Jon still fully in her.

"It's been awhile, okay?" Jon thrusts into Bekah while her whole body shudders under him. "You are so damn sexy I could do this all night BUT I know we need sleep." Jon moves off of her and pulls Bekah's body into his side. "Wanna shower together then sleep?" The two move off the bed and into the shower. Jon wasn’t done once they got in the shower but curled Bekah into him to sleep before she had to get up for the next feeding. The one thing about post pregnancy Bekah was she was a light sleeper but could fall asleep in moments. Jon loved watching his wife sleep in those few months. Admiring how equally strong and gentle she was. How she just sort of knew how to do things and handled life of a hockey wife with ease.

"Babe, Baby, Beks?" Jon shakes Bekah lightly as the sunrise broke through the window. He was trying not to startle her but it didn't work.

"WHAT? Is the baby okay? Did I forget to feed her?" Bekah shoots up out of bed and Jon picks her up bridal style and lays Bekah back in bed.

"No Sweetheart, I just changed, fed, and put her back to bed. I just need to leave for the rink and Linc will be up here in about 30 minutes." Jon kissed Bekah sweetly.

"Oh, thank you Tae. Zack, Kelly and the kids are coming soon to help hid eggs and distract Lincoln from peeking. We cannot have the team thinking the Cap's toddler has the edge." Bekah laughs.

"Je t'aime Beks."

"I love you too but what's that about?" She looks up puzzled "That you have thought of everything, but you know it isn't necessary and I do always love you." Jon sits at the foot of the bed to put his shoes on. Bekah climbs over and sits on his lap.

"Yeah, a bunch of overly competitive professional athletes won't make a kid's egg hunt some sort of competition. Riiiigggghhhttt?" Bekah cannot control the laughter and Jon tries to deny it. "Will you promise no blood at least?"

"Beks, we will not be overly competitive. Most of the kids are younger than Lincoln. Colton is about the only older kid. We will be civil." Jon kisses his unconvinced wife again and heads to the rink.

The team slowly entered the Toews home and most headed directly to the kitchen for food. Bekah set up stations through the first floor with crafts and activities for the kids before the egg hunt started.

"Ms. Bekah." A low voice came from behind Bekah as she checked the food and chatted with a few of the girls. Bekah turned to see Colton Keith behind her.

"Hey Colt!"

"My dad said you had special directions for me?" He looked back at Duncan who was holding Scarlett and talking to Jon.

Bekah bent down slightly to be eye level with the now 9 year old. "Yes, I was wondering if you wanted to hunt for yours AND Scarlett's eggs? Since she cannot find her own. What do you say?" The boy's eyes light up and nods his head violently then heads back to his dad. Duncan listens intently to his son's mission and mouths a thank you to Bekah from across the room.

"Okay team, egg hunt happening in five minutes in the backyard. We will start on the patio if you would like to head there. Beks has a basket with each kid's name on it sitting on the table out back." Jon claps like he just gave a pep talk and the team moves to the back.

Bekah had sections set up. The toddlers such as Weslie, Trey, Stephanie and Lincoln had one section. All of their dad's behind them. Patrick elbowing Dylan and Jon jokingly.

"This will end badly." Bekah whispers to herself before raising her voice. "Okay, please only find 10 eggs. There are 3 golden eggs, one in each section that not only has candy for the littles but a prize for the family." Bekah pulls the bridge of her nose realizing what she said. "Boys, NO blood! You hear me?" Staring at the grown men standing ready to go. "Seriously! Okay, on your mark, get set... GO!" As Bekah expected, the men instantly turned on their game faces making the spectators laugh.

The egg hunt was adorable. The social media team sent someone to take some pictures and videos to post online. Bekah was sure the team rep was hoping for some interference from the dads. Bekah could tell how respected Jon was by his team in situations like this off the ice. As soon as the kids were done collecting eggs and dumping the candy out the social media person thanked Bekah and left.

"Okay boys..." Bekah raises her voice and feels the heat on her cheeks when every eye looks up and over to her. "I may have hidden tickets for you all to find. Coach gave me permission to give out certificates for you."

"Certificates Beks?" Jon pipes up.

"Yes, get out of a run, late to practice, dinner on the team... those type of rewar..." A barbaric sound cuts her off as the guys stand from their dad roles of going through the eggs. "This one is for everyone, even the non-dads." Bekah looks behind her as the young ones realize they get to play too.

"Us too?" Kirby chimes in.

"Yes, all Hawks players are allowed to do this hunt. There is one for each of you. The reward is hidden inside the egg shaped envelope. You won't find out if you get a bag of candy, beverage, JT Foundation swag, or one of the team rewards until after everyone is done." Bekah's laugh is slightly evil in nature. "Okay, seriously, this will be the first and last year for this if any of you land on the IR. Please don't. And, go!"

The men took off running! Even more so than the kids did. The chirping happened immediately too.

"Watch out old man!"

"Kaner is going to end up with foundation gear."

"Is one of the awards the A?"

"Need your glasses?"

"Are you tall enough to get that egg in the tree eh?"

Bekah was thankful that the pushing and shoving was held to a minimum and laughter filled their backyard. The team had gone through so much in the last few seasons, even with a cup win, that seeing them laughing and acting like young boys was exactly the reaction Bekah was looking for when she bounced this idea off Brynn a few weeks ago.

The chirping continued when the boys opened their envelops. Cheers and jeers with each opening. Jon wrapped his arms around his wife taking in his team. Everyone thanked the Toews as they headed out the door.

"Tae?" Bekah crashed on the couch with Scarlett on her chest and Lincoln sitting on the floor playing with the soft puck that was in one of his eggs. "Jon?" Bekah leans up when Jon didn't answer.

"Here Baby!" Jon appears behind the couch. "I was just putting the cold back in the fridge for you." He leans over and kisses her forehead and pats Scarlett's bum.

"You didn't have to I was going to get up as soon as I feed her." Bekah goes to sit up.

"I know, and you put on the best Easter party for the team ever. It's the least I can do. Plus, the boys cleaned up the backyard so there really isn't much for us to do beyond taking down the tables which I'll do now." Bekah reaches up and pulls on her husband's shirt.

"I don't deserve you, Tae." Bekah leans her head on the back of the couch and stares up at him.

"No, Beks. I don't deserve you." Jon leans down and kisses his wife's lips. "Now, Linc, wanna help me?"

"Yeah. Yeah Dada!" Lincoln popped up and followed his Dad.

Bekah took in this life her and Jon created and smiled.

#What's in a name fic #WIAN epilogue 2 #WIAN Easter 2023 #J. Toews #tazer me 19

24 notes · View notes