#and the lovely little moment where they're talking quietly in the kitchen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lalacliffthorne · 4 months

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okay, so, I kinda hadn't planned on doing this; I hadn't even thought about it - whoops 🙈 there was literally just a before and after Azriel and Reader started dating in my head lol

but since so many of you asked and since it would be criminal not to - let's think about it ;)

the one where they stop being idiots 💞

okay, so I see a few ways of how this could go

let's look at two

as hinted in all the before-drabbles --

there have been moments

moments

like when either of you stares at the other for too long

or lingers in a hug

or the two of you are somehow always near each other

you get the gist

so we got all those lil moments

piling up, until technically, even an idiot should see that you really like Azriel

and that Azriel -

well, is down very, very bad

which, of course, means you have no clue

okay, so you kinda do

it's hard to ignore the tingling feeling in your belly

and that rising feeling in your chest whenever Azriel just looks at you

but you're very good at pushing that away

bc -

it's not that serious, right?

and even if you catch Azriel staring at you and he never looks away, just gets that twinkle in his eyes

and he always seems to linger a little too long when he's close, helping you with your jacket or brushing away a lash stuck on your cheek

and his gaze flickers down to what you swear is your lips -

there's really no way he actually likes you like that.

let alone feels his breath hitch every time you're close or gets that plummeting feeling in his chest when you as much as brush him

and even if there's some kind of attraction

there's no way that he has fallen for you just the same way you have quietly, creepingly and incredibly hard - fallen for him

...

yeah

since you are friends and living with a bunch of busy bodies

it doesn't take too long until at least one of them gets tired of watching the two of you be, frankly, idiots

maybe it's Rhys

over his not-so-subtle-hints and mischievous smirks, just turning towards you one evening in the kitchen

"alright, love - please tell me you're actually clueless and simply don't see that Az is down ridiculously bad for you?"

or maybe it's Mor

accidentally, literally blurting it out at brunch

something along the lines of "oh, yeah; of course he remembered, he remembers everything, plus he's completely in love with you, so -"

before growing still and becoming more wide-eyed than you have ever seen her

or maybe it's Cassian

after one drink too many, throwing an arm over your shoulder and raising his brows as he rumbles: "look, sweets, I love you. but if I have to watch Az stare longingly at you for another day, I'll lock the two of you in the pantry until you confess that you're completely in love with each other and make out. so, please, put the man out of his misery."

let's face it

it's probably all of them

bc they're just so over seeing Az pine after you and you pine after Az

and if you two would just talk about this -

anyway

you could've waved off one of them with a weak giggle and a "you're seeing things"

but three of your best friends -

who all know Azriel better than anyone else does -

two actually around both of you on a daily basis -

yeah, that's kinda hard to ignore

so suddenly, you start to notice everything

like everything

which makes your heart go into absolute overdrive whenever Azriel just looks at you

suddenly, you can't help but notice every little detail of him

and how he's acting around you

and how he's just insanely, annoyingly beautiful

and it does very strange things to your sanity

because suddenly, there's this tiny little voice in the back of your head that's whispering what if

and bc you can't be around Azriel without feeling heat wash into your cheeks and your breath becoming shaky and heart tumbling -

it's a bit of a mess.

and you really should say something

because it's getting increasingly, ridiculously difficult to keep yourself from leaning up and kissing him whenever he stares at you for too long, that half-crease in his cheek -

but you chicken out every time

and you kinda have a reason for that!

bc you love these boys

and what if something goes wrong and the others are wrong after all and you are wrong and he doesn't actually like you

bc then you would mess things up and you can't risk that and -

yeah

it really is a bit of a mess

well, until

that fateful almost-kiss

(pls don't kill me for the edging)

you're pretty sure it was an almost-kiss

like, 80 %

you turn it over enough in your head to be mostly sure Azriel wasn't just - about to wipe cake of your cheek or smth

just like you turn over the rest of the night you spent in your room with him

curled up on your bed, watching movies

ending with you falling asleep with your head on his chest

bc again

you're about 80 % sure you caught him staring at your lips at least twice

which means -

now

you are really screwed.

bc damn that thing messes with your head

I mean sure

the whole does he feel that tingling attraction too or am I seeing things-problem sorta went out of the window

but still

what if it was just a moment-thing?

or if maybe he doesn't like like you and it's all just physical attraction?

what if it isn't but it still doesn't work out bc at some point Azriel realises that you are actually not chill like he is and instead a lil ball of nerves and quirks??

what.

if.

you're basically quietly stewing in your own thoughts that are slowly getting out of control

and you just get more and more panicked, spinning in circles

until -

you lose it

it's probably a moment when the two of you are alone

maybe you're in the kitchen, responsible for making dinner for a change

and the silence is, at least for you, for once not calm like it always is with Azriel

instead, it feels like the air is buzzing and your heart does weird maneuvers and everytime you just get into close vicinity to Az, you feel like you're about to burst

and somewhere between chopping vegetables and putting cuttlery onto the table

you suddenly end up crowded against the counter

with Azriel towering over you, impossibly close

and he stills when he realises, in the middle of taking plates out of the cabinet, his eyes piercing yours

and your heart is racing because you can feel him

and because it feels like his gaze is pinning you to the spot

and because he's so close

and maybe Az sees something in the way you're staring up at him, wide-eyed and panicked

maybe he even feels the way your breath suddenly flutters

or how your heart is pounding painfully against your ribs

but Azriel slowly, carefully puts down the plate in his hand, placing it on the counter behind you

not once looking away

and then his lips curve a little and you're pretty sure the world lurches at the sight

it always feels like just looking at him causes a knife to twist under your ribs because he's just so damn beautiful

but right now, he looks fucking heavenly

the warm kitchen lights throwing shadows under his jaw, making his cheekbones look even sharper

that barely there crease in his cheek as his gaze slowly drag over your face

and he's tall and all broad shoulders and piercing eyes

and he looks at you the way he did before the almost-kiss

and suddenly

you just cannot keep it in any longer

"So, Mor said you're in love with me?"

The second you blurt out the words, you feel your eyes widen.

Well shit.

Azriel blinks, his lips parting; like maybe, for once, he has not forseen this turn of events.

You wouldn't blame him. You're currently wondering whether looking at him for too long has made your brain short-circuit.

"I mean -" You stare up at him, heat rising into your cheeks while your heart is pounding against your ribs. "I - okay, I didn't mean to say that, I, uhm, I just - thought about that thing that happened the other day; well, almost happened, and uh -" Your voice is actually shaking a bit now and sounds a little like you're about to faint, and that's not that far off, because shit -

"l mean, uhm -" Your throat finally gives up like it has decided to shut you up before you can make things worse.

And that's when you realise Azriel is still staring at you.

Only suddenly his iris looks like molten gold, and his gaze is a little feverish as it darts over your face, deep and heated and like he's trying to drink you in as his lips slowly curve upwards.

"Remind me to get her back for this."

His deep voice sends tingles down your spine, because you have never heard it this low and hoarse before, and it takes you a moment until the meaning of the mumbled words reaches you.

Your lips part, and suddenly, your heart feels like it's trying to escape your chest.

"Get her back for what?" Your whisper is so breathless, you almost swallow it.

There are creases in Azriel's cheek that make your knees feel like jello as he stares down at you, something feverish and heated in his eyes when he mumbles hoarsely: "For telling you before I could."

Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart does one huge jump. Then it stills.

"What?" Your voice sounds so breathy, you're not sure Azriel even heard it, at least until scarred fingers slip under your chin, a thumb softly brushing over your cheek as his eyes narrow a little, the crease in his cheek deepening.

"You think I was this close to kissing your just for shits and giggles?" Azriel would sound dry if there wasn't that slight edge to his hoarse voice, if his eyes weren't flickering over your face feverishly and carefully, almost anxiously. You think you can feel his breath hitch and stutter when your nose almost brushes his, and suddenly you realise he's gotten really close, close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips and his scent making your head swim.

"No?", you somehow manage to whisper, your voice almost breaking.

Azriel makes a noise at the back of his throat, deep and a little desperate; his nose nudges yours, and as a shiver runs up your spine and your breath stills in your throat, he mumbles "No." and dips his head to kiss you.

And you're pretty sure the world just stops.

Becomes so quiet you can hear your heart rising in a wild flutter, the way your breath shudders as you exhale in slow motion, and the quiet sound Azriel makes deep in his chest as his hands slide to the back of your neck.

And then he's kissing you. And his lips are warm and soft and pressing onto yours more feverishly with the second, and your hands rise to slide up his waist, hold onto him, and suddenly, you're not even close to being close enough.

Your legs are shaking when you move, push closer, until your chest is pressing into Azriel's, and he makes another soft noise before slipping his fingers into your hair; his body moving yours backwards until he's crowding you against the counter and you feel the cabinets press against your legs. Then Azriel deepens the kiss, his lips parting yours, and suddenly, you feel like starlight.

and with that

pretty much every question just vanishes.

erased by the way Azriel is kissing you, deep and feverish and desperate, like you're oxygen and he's been underwater for years

dinner's completely forgotten as you move through the kitchen, hips bumping against the counters and the table until you end up on the couch

Azriel's hands gripping your waist as you straddle him, your fingers buried in his hair as your bodies mold into each other and Az begins to figure out the 100 different ways to kiss you

and somewhere in the back of your brain

the part that isn't completely consumed by the way his chest is pressing into yours and scent is filling your lungs and body melts into yours

you wonder how a)

you ever made it without kissing him

without feeling his warm skin beneath your fingers and the taste of his lips and the way his hands slip under your shirt and press you closer

without hearing the tiny sounds he makes, deep and a little breathless as he's kissing you and you're kissing him back

and b)

how you're supposed to stop

bc now that you know what kissing Azriel feels like

you're really not sure how long you'll be able to go for without it.

(he does actually tell you the thing he's gonna give Mor shit for spilling for for the next decade

mumbled against your lips

and you're not sure how your heart doesn't give out with how far it leaps

but somehow, you manage to whisper those three words back

and Azriel makes a noise that causes your breath to tumble, bc it sounds like he doesn't quite believe it

and so you mumble it a few more times, until he kisses the words from your lips and you kiss them back onto his and neither of you can breathe)

of course there's the other option as well

the one where Azriel just can't help himself anymore

the one where you're sitting next to him in a quiet corner of the library or on the couch or in the passenger's seat of Rhys' car

and you're focused on something; your laptop, a book, your phone

and you have that slightly distant look on your face, your brows crunching

and even tho you're wearing a hoodie he's pretty sure belongs to Cassian, because it's massive on you, and your hair looks a lil wild

he feels like he's about to burst

because you're just too fucking beautiful

and he already missed his first shot bc of that fucking honking car

and it's getting hard to breathe and he really just can't take it anymore

and bc of that

he reaches over and slides his hand under your jaw, gently pulling it up and towards him

and for a moment, you're really confused, because does he want to show you something or -

and then he leans over

and suddenly

your head's empty

bc he's so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes and the shadows of a few freckles scattered over his nose and how long his lashes are and -

his scent washes over you, and your breath gets violently caught in your throat the same moment Azriel stills, barely an inch away

you can feel his breath on your skin and the warmth of him and how your heart is suddenly pounding against your ribs

and Azriel swears he will remember that moment until the day he dies

because you look like you've forgotten how to breathe

and you're staring at him in a way that makes every sense of doubt he had ever had about himself trickle away until there's nothing left but that harsh pulsing feeling in his chest

and he swears to himself he's gonna tell you he's hopelessly, utterly in love with you like a complete idiot

that he has been falling since the day you waltzed into the lives of him and his best friends

and how instead of crashing, the way you beam at him has given him wings

and a bunch of other stuff that won't even come close to describing how you make his heart beat out of his chest and breath hitch and whole being settle

but right now, he needs to kiss you

because he's been an absolute idiot for waiting this long

and he feels like if he waits just a second longer, he's gonna explode into a million pieces

and so

his heart pounding against his ribs and his breath getting stuck in his throat

he dips his head and kisses you

and then, just for a while, he forgets about anything and everything that's not you

@ailyr92 @azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secretlyhers @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123

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merbear25 · 3 months

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Reaching out

There have been little things he's been doing to make you wonder if everything is alright with him. You want to let him know you're there for him in a way he'll understand.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons (love languages) + drabbles,

Mihawk, Corazon, Law

Mihawk: Love languages: quality time and acts of service. He knows that actions speak louder than words ever could. Showing him that you care by taking notice in subtlety and finding ways to lighten the load which is weighing on him goes a long way. He'd enjoy doing certain activities together, but sometimes prefers just being near you and quietly doing something seperately.

The wind was still, leaving a sense of discomfort as the muggy air thickened across the grounds. Creeping across the lake and through the trees, you could hardly bear to stand outside in the sweltering heat for much longer. Waiting on him wasn't the issue; it was his unsual tardiness. You wouldn't have thought anything of it if it had been a half hour to an hour over the time you were expecting him, but it'd already been three.

You rationalized why he'd be held up, yet that didn't ease your troubled thoughts. Pacing along the entryway, you see him approaching in the distance. Despite having faith that the world's greatest swordsman would return unscathed, the relief you felt at that moment was immeasurable.

Stood by the door, you were itching to ask him what had happened. However, when his eyes fell on you, apathy was brewing behind them, signalling to you not to impose your burning questions on him.

There had been quite a few times you received that look from him. The two of you had come to an understanding about how to maneuver through any outside stress―letting each other process and coming back to it when you were ready.

Respecting this, you watched him march out to the ruins behind the castle. In spite of the climbing heat index, he pushed through it to drill new techniques.

The sweat was trickling down his temples; the shine appearing on his skin was noticeable even from where you were standing within the kitchen. Gathering a bottle of water and a book, you went out to join him―simply holding a desire to be near him.

He remained focused while you approached the area, as well as when you sat yourself down on a turned over pillar cracking open your book. Putting a pin in his practice, he turned to you still refraining from speaking. You returned his gaze and offered him the water you'd brought.

"It's blistering hot out. Thought you might be thirsty."

Accepting your thoughtful gesture, he took a seat next to you. After a few more moments in silence, he felt ready to talk about what happened earlier. Telling you calmly about what was on his mind, you held on to each word―being sure to listen attentively.

Corazon: Love languages: physical touch and words of affirmation. He'd adore hugging and cuddling with those closest to him; He'd want them to feel comforted and safe when they're with him, letting them pour their hearts out if that was what they needed. Compliments and kind words: he'd love to see your face light up from them, knowing that he'd made you smile would make his day.

Dawn was just beginning to peek through the curtains, allowing rays of sun to dance upon the floorboards and walls. With your room being illuminated by them, they acted as a natural alarm clock, giving you no choice but to get an early start to your day.

Stummbling out of your room, you stretched your arms as you yawned away the remnants of last night's dreams. You caught a glimpse of Rosinante down the hall followed by some commotion from his study.

Knocking first, you were permitted entry. He was rummaging through the papers on his desk and in the drawers. Upon asking what he was looking for, he gave a simple, "Don't worry about it," as an answer.

Despite his nonchalance, you were quick to assume that he was lying―trying to keep something from you to protect you perhaps. "Is it the same thing you were looking for the other day?"

With a huff, he confirmed, "But it isn't here either."

"Let me help you then," you offered, stepping further into the room.

"That won't be necessary," his abruptness took you aback.

The absence of warmth in his voice was troubling, though you didn't want to pry. He'll come around when he's ready, you thought to yourself as you inched your way out of the room, hoping that time would come rather quickly.

Those glistening trails of light were now fading with the day, allowing the shadows of night to replace them. Rosinante maintained his secrecy, which kept you at a distance. To prevent overstepping, you gave him the space he needed to complete whatever task he'd set out to accomplish.

Your encounter in his study had long since passed and you still hadn't heard so much as a peep from him. By now, he would've at least come over to chit chat, even if it wasn't about anything pressing. Him being uncharacteristically somber for this long was causing you to worry.

Searching for him through out the premises, you found him at the desk in his room. He was slumped over his journal, which was still open to the entry he'd been writing. Tenderly looking down at the wearied man, you fetched a blanket to drape over him.

His breaths grew shallower at its added weight, and while seeing how much he'd worn himself out due to the stress of his mystery assignment, you bent down to hug him being mindful not to wake the gentle giant.

When releasing the gesture of companionship, he caught your hand, holding it firmly. Caressing it with his other one, he made a gentle request, "Could you stay with me a bit longer?"

Wholeheartedly agreeing to this, you add, "I'll always be here for you."

Law: Love languages: acts of service (gift giving to an extent) and words of affirmation. He understands he's not the greatest at expressing his feelings, which is why he'd rather show you that he cares. That being said, if you do a good job at something he won't ignore your hard work. Even though giving him compliments or praise in any way would make him flustered, he wouldn't hate it―he'd probably like it.

The Polar Tang felt colder than usual. Thinking back, you noticed that Law hadn't been around much: not coming to eat with the others at mealtimes, choosing to spend more time alone, withdrawing into his study. Long days and nights at sea were making his absence more apparent.

You didn't want to push him, though you couldn't help feeling worried about his current behaviors―spending this much time alone wouldn't be healthy for anyone, especially one whose mind tended to wander to darker depths.

After fetching a serving of that night's supper, you knocked on his door. Law grumbled a, "Come in."

Upon seeing the captain in his sleep deprived state, your heart sank. You didn't know the reason, and you refrained from prying, but wanting to help him was something you couldn't just ignore.

Looking at the state of his desk, it could be deduced that he hadn't been taking care of his basic needs; the devotion he had to what he'd been working on was consuming him.

Placing the food on a cleared space, you informed him that the meal was nice and hot for him. You went out quickly to grab a glass of water for him, as well. "In case you're thirsty," you added, smiling at him.

He kept his thanks short, making you shift your weight. Only wanting to let him know how much he meant to you, and to everyone else, you told him, "We're so lucky to have such a dedicated captain. Others could only dream of being on a crew like this."

Placing his pen down, he still had yet to look up at you. Feeling like you were overstaying your welcome, you told him you hoped he enjoyed his meal, gently closing the door behind you.

You figured if he ever wanted to reach out to any of you, he'd do it when he was ready, but you still wished to help him understand that he had people who adored him.

Later that night, he came to find you. With him, he brought something small. Stopping in front of you, he handed it to you, "I forgot to give this to you sooner."

Accepting it, you saw that it was one of types of chocolate you'd been raving about. Asking what the occasion was, he simply responded, "You said it was something you liked."

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stupidlovergirl · 1 year

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Heart to Heart

Soft moments with them pt 2

Feat. Solomon, Simeon, Barbatos, Diavolo

Bros. Vers

Dev Notes: I have been fighting the sleepiest girl in the world allegations and have been losing. That is my (horrible) excuse for taking so long.

Solomon is old. Ancient. Before the dinosaurs. Many other different age related things you make fun of him about. So when he mentioned that the Devildom was having a drive in movie night, you couldn't help but laugh.

"Why, so you can count shoulders in the car? Do the old yawn and stretch?"

"Please. Asmo would kill me for such juvenile flirting." He says with a smirk. "They're showing some old films from the human world and I thought it would be fun."

"Can you even drive?" you tease, laughing softly at him

"It's a simple yes no question, stop avoiding it" he says with fake exasperation, but the smirk on his face lets you know he isn't angry.

"Alright, we'll go on an old person date"

Old people dates slap you think to yourself. Sipping on a milkshake you and Solomon ordered from Hell's Kitchen before coming in. You did get a big bucket of popcorn, a heaping of butter on top. Solomon turns the radio on to the station and then turns to you with a smile.

"Is your shake good?" he simply asks

"Yeah! I got a- Hey!" you try to lurch away but Solomon's quick to snatch your wrist as he sucks down a part of your shake. He detaches with a loud smack and toothy grin. He laughs as you glare at him. Soon the fight ended as the movie started. The dark atmosphere, the old film, and the warmth of Solomon is comforting. You can't even make fun of him as he wraps his arm around you. He places a kiss on top your head and quietly laughs.

"I like old people dates. We should go on more" you state, voice soft. Solomon laughs at your comment, rubbing your shoulders and pulling you even closer to him.

"Okay" he whispers back

When Simeon saw you and Luke running up to him with wide smiles. "Simeon, we made stuff for a picnic! Do you want to come with us?" Luke said, smiling widely. You stood behind him, hand on his shoulder with an equally wide smile.

"We have decided to go to the small park nearby. It's usually pretty empty, so we'll have the park primarily to ourselves" you tag on, looking hopeful.

"Of course, when do you want to go?"

"Right now!" Luke and you yell in unison, both of you snatching one of his hands and leading him to the front door where the picnic basket waited. Snatching it quickly into your other hand, Luke opens the door and the little trio is off. Simeon couldn't help but laugh at the enthusiasm.

It wasn't long to get there, and the blanket was quickly set down and you three rested on it. Talking came easily, as you all ate the sandwiches and sweets in the basket till you all had your fill. Due to the good food, Luke fell into a food coma, falling asleep in your lap. You brushed through his hair, feeling a little sleepy yourself, as you leaned your head onto Simeon's shoulder. He smiled softly, resting his head onto yours. He felt the fondness in his heart grow even more. A little family. It makes him smile. As soft snoring comes from you. He felt even more content. Yeah, he could get used to his little family.

Barbatos has been stressed out of his mind. Diavolo keeps escaping from his work, making the poor butler have to track him down, all of the preparations needed for so many upcoming events started to bog down the poor guy. Of course, no one around him could tell. He kept a pristine image, as usual. Yet, you knew, the slight twitch of his eyebrow, the quiet intake of breath, and even the twitching of his eye let you know he was in need of a major break. So when he came into his room, seeing you in his room with a large basket of bath goods, candles all around giving it a warm glow, and you had a smile on your face as you lounged on his bed with a smile and a soft fluffy robe on.

"Hello, my love" he smiles, walking towards the bed to place a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Hey Barbie" you softly coo out wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down onto the bed. "You look exausted" you simply state, kissing his eyelids as he lets out a soft sigh. "Don't worry, though, cause I'm here to rescue you!" he chuckles softly at the antics, letting out a soft sound of displeasure as you move off the bed.

"I'm off to run you a bath. Then I'll put on a stupid movie, do some face masks, maybe repaint your nails, give you a massage. That, and anything else you want."

He lets out a hum of approval as you scurry off to create a relaxing bubble bath, lighting candles, setting music, and a nice glass of Demonus for the guy. When you came back, he softly raised his head to look at you. Lovestruck. It made you feel giddy, as it's not so often that Barbatos gets so tired you can read his expressions.

"C'mon darling, lets get started on your night"

You’ve been missing Diavolo, and to remedy it, you decided to come over to his place and barge into his office. What you weren’t expecting was how tired he looked. Diavolo looked basically dead, reviewing reports and reports. When he finally looked up, the tired smile broke your heart.

“Oh Dia…” You murmured, closing the door and approaching him. Sometimes you forget how much work that suddenly piles up on his desk. As you approached him, he pushed him away from his desk.

“Hello, my darling… Did you text me? I didn’t see it…” he asks, going to pick up his D.D.D.

“No, it was a surprise visit. You look so tired, when was the last time you took a break?”

“Don’t worry about it” he simply says, turning to you. You step closer towards him, and sit down on his desk. He pushes up closer after you take a seat, and places his head on your lap.

“You look pretty, as usual” he murmurs, resting his head into your lap. You pet his hair, letting out a hum of a simple song.

#solomon x reader #simeon x reader #barbatos x reader #diavolo x reader #obey me x reader #obswd x reader #solomon x you #simeon x you #barbatos x you #diavolo x you #obey me x you #obmswd x you #bunny's.game.collection

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borathae · 5 days

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↳ Index [Chapter 05 - Bonding]

Focus on Pairing: Jungkook x Taehyung

Warnings: a romantic picnic date in the forest, Tae is a nervous mess, he is actually a mess in general, so many insecurities and anxieties and signs of PTSD, please seriously someone hold this man, despite these warnings this chapter is so romantic and healing, Kook is the sweetest and most patient person ever, he is so fucking important to Tae's healing journey, they're really bonding <3, they're so cute :(, there is a moment where "smut" could be implied but i can't say more without spoiling the plot, there is no smut though, ah yes there is also talks about being queer and how amazing it is to be queer, i love being queer no joke <3, and i love them :(

Wordcount: 10.4k

a/n: i feel like these warnings are a mess bahahah i didn't wanna spoiler too much, this chapter is definitely the "angstiest" though which says a lot about this story because it's still so fluffy and sweet despite the "angst"

Yoongi’s softened eyes meet yours as you open them to a new morning. His face lights up, an adoring smile washes over his features. He must have been gazing at you for a while because his cheeks are slightly flushed.

You retort the smile instantly with your pulse speeding up. His eyes are dark brown again, his hair a deep black, and yet, the memory of how they glowed purple last night is still so fresh to you. He looked so incredibly beautiful.

You reach out and caress his cheek, making him flutter his lashes in contentment.

“Good morning, my beloved”, you speak softly.

“Good morning.”

“Did you sleep well?”

He nods his head and scoots closer to kiss your forehead.

“I love you”, he whispers, making your heart race.

“I love you too.”

“My love”, he sighs, giving you a gentle hug.

You snuggle into him, giggling quietly.

“Last night was so nice”, you say.

“It was incredible”, he agrees.

“I can’t stop repeating the way you looked.”

“Me neither, my love. Your magic is so beautiful.”

“Yours is just as beautiful.”

He gives you a gentle squeeze, “my beloved love.”

You giggle, “Yoongi, oh god. You’re so cute.”

You crane your neck, kissing his lips. He smiles into the kiss, purring in happiness as his hand caresses your cheek.

You break the kiss once you need to breathe, putting some distance between each other so you could gaze.

“I like you so, so much, Boongie.”

“I like you too, my princess.”

You smile. He retorts it, holding your hand.

“Do you feel normal?” he asks.

“Yeah, just really happy and a little hungry. Why?”

“Just so. I still can’t believe you let me cum inside.”

“Yeah”, you agree with a giddy scrunch of your nose, “I don’t regret it.”

“Me neither”, he squeezes your hand, “if something happens and you change your mind, I will support you. I just want you to know.”

You know what he insinuates, feeling so incredibly safe with him.

“Thank you so much”, you kiss his hand, “I love you.”

“I love you too”, he answers you and rubs his tummy, “I’m hungry too.”

“You are? Oh poor Boongie”, you go to rub his tummy even if he giggles as a defence mechanism, “should we get brekky?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Taehyung and Jungkook are up earlier than you because the guestroom is already empty when you pass it. Yoongi thinks that they are downstairs and so you continue your way to the kitchen.

Taehyung is sitting cross-legged on the floor, freeing cherries from their pits together with your grandfather. Next to them, your grandmother is kneading dough for a pie. Jungkook isn’t present in the room, but the door to the garden is open. They have the radio on, playing songs from a long passed time.

“Good morning.”

Their heads turn in sync with your greeting. Their voices overlap as they all greet you and Yoongi. You hug your grandmother and your hug your grandfather, then you kiss Taehyung on his lips and caress his soft cheek. He leans into the touch with sparkly puppy eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” you ask no one in particular.

“I did”, Taehyung answers, “and you?”

“We did.”

“We didn’t get to see you at all yesterday.”

“I know, right? Yoongi and I practiced magic for almost the entire day and when we came back for dinner, you guys were still out, painting? Paps said that you were.”

One Day Prior

“Well then, I don’t wanna keep you from it. See you later, guys. I love you”, you say and send them flying kisses. You are below their window, carrying a picnic basket and a bright smile.

Taehyung and Jungkook catch the kisses you sent them, giggling just as you do.

“We love you too”, they say in unison, waving you goodbye as you continue your journey to the forest.

“She’s glowing today”, Taehyung says as he watches you skip along the path.

“I thought the same”, Jungkook says.

“Do you think that she will find Yoongi?”

“I bet she will. But even if she won’t, she’ll have a good time. She’ll probably just look at plants and cry over small animals.”

Taehyung laughs fondly. Jungkook does the same.

“That is something she would do.”

“Yeah right?”

You disappear out of their sight as the forest swallows you. The two men shift their eyes back to the view of the forest before them. Taehyung steps closer to Jungkook and hugs his waist tighter.

“Your heart’s racing like crazy, by the way”, Jungkook speaks softly as his fingers play with Taehyung’s mindlessly. He has his left hand rested on the window sill and Jungkook took the chance.

“Because I am with you.”

“You’re a softie.”

“I am. For you”, Taehyung kisses Jungkook’s neck gently, “my weakness.”

Jungkook smiles fondly, “softie.”

Taehyung purrs, rubbing his cheek against Jungkook’s shoulder. He slips his hands from their intertwined fingers and runs them along his arms instead. Once he reaches his elbows, he changes his touch to his stomach instead, tracing the lines of his muscles with his fingertips. Goosebumps cover Jungkook’s skin instantly, soft purrs rumble in his chest.

“Do you want to spend time with me today?” Taehyung asks in a whisper.

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Do you want to paint in the forest? Perhaps have a picnic as well?”

“A picnic? It sounds romantic.”

“It is supposed to be romantic. We haven’t truly gone on a date ever since all of this calmed down.”

“Right”, Jungkook agrees, “mhm, a picnic in the forest sounds nice.”

“Really? Do you truly want to spend time with me?”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“O-on a date?”

“Yes, that sounds nice.”

Taehyung exhales shakily and presses a kiss to Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I am so happy to hear that”, he whispers and breaks away from Jungkook, “I am calling dips on the bathroom.”

Jungkook chuckles, “alright, do your thing.”

Taehyung keeps the bedroom door open, singing to himself on his way to the bathroom.

Jungkook tidies the room a little. He makes the bed, puts away yesterday’s clothing and cleans the clutter on the bedside tables. He takes the empty glasses of water and makes his way downstairs with a melody on his lips. The shower runs and Taehyung sings happily.

The downstairs is empty, but Jungkook doesn’t worry. He knows where you and Yoongi are and your grandparents are definitely in the garden. Jungkook thinks that it is so lovely that you got your passion for gardening from them.

Jungkook turns on the radio and begins making the picnic. He eats a slice of raspberry pie for strength and sips from his cup of coffee every now and then. Food tastes so good when it actually nourishes the body. Jungkook really loves it.

Taehyung comes downstairs when Jungkook has already finished two dishes.

“You tidied the bedroom.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung. He is wearing beige dress pants and a white linen shirt with strings in the front to close the collar. He has his sleeves down and golden rings on his fingers. His dark hair is styled.

“I did”, Jungkook confirms.

“Are you making breakfast?” Taehyung asks and comes behind him to hug his waist.

“No. I’m preparing the picnic. I had raspberry pie for breakfast. I saved you a slice as well.”

“I see, thank you”, Taehyung says, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Jungkook’s neck.

“Tae, behave”, Jungkook warns and wiggles out of the hug gently.

“I am. I just wanted to smell you”, Taehyung defends himself.

Jungkook scoffs in amusement, placing the cooking towel aside.

“I’m washing up now. Take out the bread once the timer’s done and check on the potatoes. Don’t touch anything you have no idea how to cook.”

“You are mean”, Taehyung calls after him.

Jungkook chuckles. The door closes moments later.

Taehyung looks around the kitchen. Jungkook prepared sandwiches with various fillings, as well as rice rolls with vegetables from the garden. He also has potatoes for a salad boiling happily and seems to bake small baguettes in the oven.

Taehyung straightens up after looking into the oven, scratching his head in thinking. He has no idea what he could contribute to the picnic. He can’t cook and the one thing he can make - sandwiches – Jungkook already made.

Perhaps. Taehyung’s eyes light up. Perhaps he could try his luck with pancakes again. He must be better at them these days. He just must.

With this glorious plan in mind, Taehyung begins his contribution to the picnic.

Jungkook hurries downstairs.

“What’s burning?” he asks worriedly.

Taehyung has his sleeves rolled up by now and his hair dishevelled just a little.

“Don’t look.”

“Tae, what did you do?”

“Don’t come here.”

Jungkook reaches his side, looking at the stack of burned pancakes. He looks at them with big eyes.

“How can you burn them so bad?” he gasps.

“I swear I did everything right. I worked so diligently on getting them golden”, Taehyung says and pouts, “I’m sorry. I know you told me not to do anything, but I still did.”

Jungkook laughs, patting his butt gently.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t apologise. At least you tried. And look, you made five nice ones. That’s an improvement.”

Taehyung’s eyes light up, “that’s right. I did manage to make five nice ones.”

“Good job, Tae”, Jungkook praises and pats his butt, “also, you took out the bread and potatoes at the right time.”

“I even cut them. Can you see?”

“I can. Good job. They’re cut very nicely.”

Taehyung scrunches his nose.

“Thank you so much.”

“Now can you get me the salt and pepper? We need to marinate this salad. It’s gonna be so good.”

“Yes, of course. I can get you spices”, Taehyung says and begins working with sparkly eyes.

Jungkook studies him. He looks so happy and content now that he can be helpful. Jungkook smiles. He likes seeing Taehyung like this.

“Should I put them in already?”

“Yes, go careful. We don’t want it to be too salty.”

Taehyung goes careful, sticking out his tongue in concentration. He sprinkles salt over the potatoes, looking at Jungkook once his fingers are empty.

“Was that good?”

“That was perfect.”

Taehyung’s eyes sparkle.

“Go ahead and put the pepper in it as well, I’m getting the stuff for the sauce.”

Taehyung sings to the radio as he works. Jungkook listens to him with warmth in his chest. He is always the one others take care of, others baby and coddle and try to help. And while Jungkook likes being coddled, he also sometimes really needs to feel as if he could guide someone, as if he is the one being needed. He really likes what he has going on with Taehyung right now.

He returns with his hands full, looking into the salad.

“And?” Taehyung asks with expectant eyes.

“Looks good. You’ve done so well”, Jungkook praises.

“Thank you, wow”, Taehyung rests his head against Jungkook’s arm.

“Do you want to do something else?”

“Yes. I want to.”

“Why don’t you make a pretty charcuterie box? I’m sure someone like you can make pretty boxes.”

“Yes, oh I love charcuterie boards. Why a box?”

“So we can take it with us.”

“I see. I understand. I am going to make it very prettily. Just you wait, I will work very hard on it.”

“I’m sure you will.”

The two men share lovely silence like this. Jungkook finishes the potato salad and makes little wraps with a savoury filling, while Taehyung works hard on perfecting the charcuterie box. Jungkook also cuts up some fruits and puts grandma’s pie into a container, while Taehyung still works on his box. And as Jungkook fills the picnic basket with the food, cutlery and plates, Taehyung still works on his box.

Jungkook allows him this time, eventhough he feels stressed about it. He is someone who likes to move fast, work quickly and finish a lot in little time. He would have finished this box ages ago, but he knows not to comment on it. Taehyung needs it. Jungkook knows way better than one might assume, how important such small moments of quiet are to a traumatised mind.

So he lets Taehyung work and busies himself with cleaning instead. Taehyung doesn’t notice until Jungkook wipes the counter a little to his right. He lifts his head, looking around the room with big eyes.

“Am I taking too long?”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

“I am sorry, I am almost finished. I, I am trying to get all the details right.”

“It’s okay, take your time. We still have all day”, Jungkook assures him with a chaste kiss to his jawline, “I’m gonna pop into the garden real quick and ask grandma if they have painting supplies. Take your time, okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, lowering it shyly afterwards.

“Take your time, okay? You’re doing well.”

Taehyung has finished his charcuterie box, as well as finished packing the basket when Jungkook comes back inside with your grandmother. They are talking about painting as she shows him what they could take for their picnic. Once all supplies are packed, they leave the cottage to finally go on their forest adventure. Jungkook carries everything because he finished putting on his shoes sooner than Taehyung. The latter jogs so he could open the garden door.

“Thank you”, Jungkook says and enters the forest path.

Taehyung closes the door, then does another light jog to catch up with Jungkook.

“Should I help you?” he offers, trying to reach for the heavy picnic basket.

“It’s okay, I can manage”, Jungkook says as he carries it with ease. It doesn’t feel heavy to him at all.

“At least let me carry the blanket.”

“It’s fine, seriously.”

“I feel so useless now.”

Jungkook ogles him and gives up with a sigh.

“Actually, maybe you could carry the blanket. It’s kinda heavy.”

“Of course”, Taehyung says and takes it happily. He throws it over his shoulder, giving Jungkook a shy grin. One Jungkook retorts.

Their adventure takes them past the lake you and Yoongi are spending time together at. The sound of someone cutting wood fills the air.

“So this is where she went”, Taehyung says.

“I guess so, yeah”, Jungkook agrees.

The two men slow down and linger in hiding. Yoongi is cutting wood while you are on the blanket reading a book. You and he seem peaceful and truly lost in your own little world.

“Should we join them?”

“No, let’s give them their privacy.”

“Very well. Then I want to walk along this path”, Taehyung says and takes Jungkook’s hand to lead him away.

Jungkook looks at their intertwined hands, then at Taehyung’s face. The latter seemed content and as if the sudden skinship felt normal to him.

“The sunlight looks especially beautiful on this path, wouldn’t you agree?” Taehyung asks, looking at Jungkook. He flusters and pulls his hand away, “forgive me.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong”, Jungkook assures him in a soft voice.

Taehyung lowers his eyes shyly and reaches for Jungkook’s hand again. Carefully. Just a brush of his fingers to test the waters. Pull away. Cheeks flush. Jungkook reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Taehyung, making the decision for him.

Taehyung meets his eyes and giggles.

“Mhm”, Jungkook lets out and smiles fondly. He never imagined Taehyung to be so timid, but he likes that he is. Normally, Jungkook is always the one who everyone wants to baby and call shy. So it is a very nice and welcome change to feel as if he could be the one babying someone.

He pulls Taehyung just a little closer, “you said the sunlight looks especially nice here?”

“Yes, I did. At least I think it does”, Taehyung says and flusters again, “ah please forgive me”, he gets out, breaking away to hide his face in his hands and giggles.

“What’s the matter?” Jungkook asks in a chuckle, nudging his arm playfully, “why are you so shy?”

“You make me shy”, Taehyung says and glances at Jungkook, “stop it, please.”

“Why? I’m not even doing anything”, Jungkook complains in laughter, stumbling slightly when Taehyung pushes at his arm softly.

“Yes, you do. You look at me.”

“Oh? I’m sorry then, it won’t happen again”, Jungkook teases and turns his head away.

Taehyung rounds him, but Jungkook turns his head away again.

“No”, Taehyung laughs and rounds Jungkook again only for the latter to turn his head away.

Taehyung whines and grasps for Jungkook, “don’t do that”, he is laughing.

Jungkook laughs as well, feeling happy when he can tease Taehyung one more time by turning his head away as the latter tries to get his eye contact.

“I didn’t mean it”, Taehyung says and cups Jungkook’s face. They fight each other gently. Jungkook could easily win in this realm, but he lets Taehyung win instead, laughing heartily at his adorable attempts to steal a glance.

Taehyung pulls him closer and rubs his nose against Jungkook’s. Jungkook keeps his eyes closed on purpose.

“Look at me, please”, Taehyung begs in a whisper as his fingers grasp Jungkook’s face almost desperately.

Jungkook opens his eyes.

Taehyung melts in giddiness instantly, scrunching his nose. He flutters his lashes prettily, letting out a shy giggle.

Jungkook chuckles softly and steals a kiss.

“You’re adorable right now”, he says, sliding his hand together with Taehyung’s and tugging softly, “come on, the basket’s getting heavy.”

Taehyung follows him with wobbly knees, hugging his arm. He rests his head against Jungkook’s shoulder, twisting the fabric of his shirt mindlessly. He hasn’t felt this way about a man in decades. He feels so entirely silly for it because in the grand scheme of endless time, he has only been with Jungkook for a very short time. Four months ever since Namjoon was defeated to be exact. The two men didn’t have enough time yet to truly get to know each other. Taehyung shouldn’t feel so strongly for him already, but he cannot help himself. Courting Jungkook makes Taehyung feel like a giddy, young queer again. He hasn’t felt this way in forever.

He keeps these thoughts to himself however because he fears to be too much. That is why he shied away from holding his hand or why he didn’t dare to call it a date. Yes, Jungkook is very openly and proudly bisexual, but Taehyung doesn’t want to be the reason why Jungkook could question it in a negative way. Taehyung truly feels that he could make him question it. Oh, he feels so insecure lately. As if he was a desperate, pitiful beggar asking for something he wasn’t worthy of.

Taehyung lifts his head from Jungkook’s shoulder, deepening the hand holding. He gulps. They begin again. The painful thoughts. They have been haunting him for months. They keep him up at night and steal his desire to be creative. The once beautiful sunlight is invisible to him right now. Jungkook’s hand in his’ feels like an act of pity. Taehyung wants to gulp, but can’t because his throat is beginning to constrict.

“Look. What do you think of this spot?” Jungkook asks and slows down on a small clearing. A patch of grass is stretching its green arms to the sunlight. Small forest flowers break up the lush green in specks of white and yellow. The spot is romantic and intimate. Jungkook knows that Taehyung will like it, so he gets worried when the latter doesn’t answer him.

He looks at him. Taehyung is staring into nothingness with glassy eyes. He is at the same time breathing heavily and not breathing at all.

“Tae?” Jungkook tries, giving his hand a gentle shake.

Taehyung doesn’t react, so Jungkook tries again.

“Taehyung?” he says a little louder.

When Taehyung doesn’t react again, he places himself in front of him and cups his cheeks.

“Taehyung, hey.”

Taehyung flinches, blinking his eyes a few times before they finally focus on Jungkook.

“I lost you for a moment. Are you okay?”

Taehyung grows embarrassed instantly, “please forgive me”, he whispers, trying to lower his head, but Jungkook doesn’t let him.

“Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong”, he assures him and brushes his thumb over his cheeks, “what’s the matter? Where did you go when I lost you?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“You can’t say yet?”

He nods his head.

“Is it too painful?”

He hesitates, but nods his head in the end.

“I understand. Well, I’m glad that you’re back again and if you want to, you can talk to me.”

Taehyung nods his head and leans into Jungkook’s touch. He closes his eyes and sighs in relief.

“Now. What do you think of this spot? I think it’s very romantic”, Jungkook asks in order to take his mind off of whatever haunted him before.

Taehyung peels his eyes open and looks around for a bit. His face gains a happy glow as more and more seconds pass and soon, he carries an honest smile on his lips.

“I love this spot. It is so romantic”, he says.

“Yeah, right? Let’s set up our picnic here. Come on, teamwork. we’ll put down the blanket together.”

“Yes, alright”, Taehyung says with newly found joy in his voice.

The two men work perfectly together to prepare the picnic. They lay out the blanket, put down a few pillows and spread out the containers of food. Jungkook hands them to him and Taehyung opens the lids. It is truly perfect teamwork and only a few moments later, the picnic is set up.

Jungkook and Taehyung are facing each other because it naturally happened this way. Obviously, both men have their shoes off. Jungkook leans back on his hands and stretches out his legs.

“Ah”, he sighs contently, “that’s life. Picnics in nature are the best.”

He closes his eyes and tilts his face up into the sun. The light feels warm on his skin, filling him with a sense of freedom. He missed the sunlight so much. In the real world, he can’t stay in it for too long because his sensitive eyes would begin aching way too much. Jungkook really treasures the sunny moments here.

Taehyung watches him with a racing heart. Every single inch of his face is perfect. His jawline, his chin, his lips, his nose and forehead. The way his eyes look closed and how his cheeks are so soft. Because he is human in this world, Jungkook’s skin finally looks alive again. It is golden in the sunlight. Taehyung doesn’t exaggerate. He truly thinks that his skin looks as if made out of pure gold.

Taehyung reaches for his paper and gouache paints and begins sketching what he sees. Taehyung imagines everything in shapes of different colours when he paints. Humans, animals, nature and architecture are basically all just made up of different shapes in different colours to him, which he will replicate in his art until it shows what he sees. Taehyung thinks that Jungkook’s shapes are the most beautiful shapes he has seen in a man’s face in a long time.

Jungkook moves out of the position when he doesn’t hear Taehyung after a few moments. Worry is prominent in his eyes, he must have thought Taehyung was lost in painful thoughts again.

“What are you doing?” he asks him, studying him.

Taehyung lifts his head and widens his eyes.

“Please don’t move. I am not done yet.”

“Are you drawing me?”

“Yes, please move back to how you were before.”

Jungkook chuckles and does as he is told.

“Like this?”

“No, not like this. Tilt it further.”

Jungkook fixes his head.

“Like this?”

“No, wait”, Taehyung says and gets on his knees so he could reach for Jungkook’s head. He fixes his position in his stead, oblivious to Jungkook’s eyes on him until he goes to fix the strands of hair on his forehead. Jungkook is smiling at him, letting his pretty eyes run over his face. There is fond playfulness sparkling in them.

Taehyung flusters, pulling his fingers away.

“Forgive me. I didn’t ask for permission to touch”, he whispers, feeling mesmerised by Jungkook’s eyes.

Jungkook stays quiet, which makes Taehyung nervous.

“I am sorry”, he says, “really.”

Jungkook reaches up and brushes the back of his hand over Taehyung’s chin.

“You’re so handsome”, he whispers.

“What?” Taehyung breathes, feeling lightheaded.

“You’re so handsome”, Jungkook says and smiles, tracing his thumb over Taehyung’s lips.

They part. His eyes lower. His cheeks flush.

“Oh god”, Taehyung presses out and falls back with his face hidden in his hands, “please stop it.”

“Why? You’re normally not that shy.”

“Because you aren’t like this normally.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying. I’m just as I always am.”

“No you are not, you are looking at me.”

“Why am I not allowed to look at you?” Jungkook laughs and closes the distance between them to overwhelm Taehyung. He pushes him to his back, grabbing his wrists to pin them above his head.

“Ah”, Taehyung moans softly, having to gasp for air afterwards.

Jungkook is pinning him down, staring so deeply into his eyes, Taehyung feels dizzy.

“Mhm? Why am I not allowed to look at you?” Jungkook whispers in a slight rasp.

“I, I”, Taehyung stutters, but can’t think of anything to say.

Jungkook chuckles and places a kiss on Taehyung’s jawline. The latter arches his back and sighs, parting his legs for something which never comes.

“You’re so cute, Tae”, Jungkook whispers and breaks away to return to the pose.

Taehyung needs a few moments to function again. He lies still on the blanket, staring at the sky with a racing heart. The spot Jungkook kissed is tingling uncontrollably, his stomach is spilling over with butterflies. He is done for, isn’t he?

In the past, Taehyung was the one to fluster Jungkook, to steal his breath and make him malfunction with just a touch. Not anymore, not when true feelings are involved. Nothing but a look is already enough to mess up his thoughts, a touch truly renders him useless. Taehyung is so done for.

“Are you going to paint me?” Jungkook asks.

“Forgive me, I”, Taehyung sits up and tries to fix his hair. His fingers shake a little as he reaches for his brush, “ye-yes I am. Please uhm, please hold still.”

Jungkook chuckles, “you’re so cute”, he says and closes his eyes.

They spent quiet like this, but it is never truly silent. The song of birds, the humming of insects and the rushing of the wind keeps them company. Taehyung’s brush makes a faint sound as he guides it over the paper. It doesn’t take him long to finish his sketch. He has been painting for more than eight hundred years after all.

“You are allowed to move again.”

“Yeah? Did I turn out well?” Jungkook asks and tries to look.

“No peeking”, Taehyung says and moves the paper away, “I want to finish it first.”

“Alright, if you say so”, Jungkook chuckles and sits back. He shifts his eyes to the picnic, “you don’t mind if I start eating, do you?”

“No, go ahead.”

“Mhhm nice. Oh all of that looks so yummy. Mhm what should I take first? Uh gimbap”, Jungkook mumbles to himself as he fills his plate with a variety of foods.

Once his plate is finished, he prepares one for Taehyung as well. He places it next to him, laughing when he moves the paper away panickedly.

“I wasn’t tryna peek, just made you food.”

“Oh. Thank you”, Taehyung says with a blush.

“Enjoy”, Jungkook says and pecks his pink cheek, before sitting back to begin eating.

He does so with his eyes scanning over the scenic view. The sunlight breaks through the leaf canopy perfectly so that the sun rays are visible. There are small bugs and butterflies fluttering in the lights.

“I think I wanna paint the forest”, Jungkook says and busies himself by setting up his painting station. He makes breaks for snacking every now and then.

“The forest is a wonderful motive”, Taehyung murmurs with his mouth stuffed with food. He truly enjoys the taste. Jungkook is a very talented cook.

“Yeah, I agree. Have you been painting for long?”

“Yes, all my life. Even when I was still human, I painted in my spare time.”

“Damn, then you’ve been painting for forever.”

“I truly enjoy it. Painting, or art in general, brings me great peace of mind. I find myself truly zone out whenever I create art.”

“I get that. My brain sorta shuts off too when I paint.”

“So you paint as well?”

“I do, yeah. Just not as passionately as you.”

“I see. Did you paint as a human as well?”

“No, not really. I was more of a drawing kinda guy back then. I always loved the sketches I did, but hated colouring them. I honestly still do. I prefer to draw than to paint.”

“I see. I really love drawing as well, but I prefer painting.”

“It suits you.”

“What does that mean?” Taehyung asks, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“Just that painting suits you”, he smiles, “it’s a compliment.”

“Oh”, he flusters, looking away, “thank you.”

Jungkook feels warm fondness in his chest for Taehyung. He is genuinely so cute when he flusters.

“Okay, idea. What are your top five art forms?” he asks because he wants to keep talking to him.

“My top five art forms?”

“Yes, painting, sculpting, stuff like that. What are your top five? They don’t have to be in order, just what do you love the most?”

“No one ever asked me that before.”

“I thought it could be fun. Normal date questions can be so boring.”

Taehyung flusters. A date. He is truly on a date. He almost forgets about his answer because of how giddy he feels.

“Well then, uhm”, he begins, “I would say that painting is my most favourite, I enjoy pottery a great deal and the entire process of painting the pieces. I would also consider embroidery to be one of my favourites.”

“Embroidery?”

“Yes, I like it.”

“That’s so cool. I never tried embroidery before, but I think it’s such an impressive art skill.”

Taehyung studies Jungkook’s features. Jungkook doesn’t hate him, does he? He is actually interested in him. Taehyung doesn’t need to feel like a pitiful beggar because there is nothing he needs to beg for with Jungkook. He gives him attention and interest willingly. Taehyung cannot put his feelings into words yet, but what Jungkook is doing right now feels healing to Taehyung.

“It is so much fun. I really love it”, Taehyung says and takes a deep breath. The air filling his lungs feels so good all of a sudden.

“You have to show me how to do it one day. I would love to learn.”

“Yes. Yes, I can teach you”, Taehyung says, bouncing on the spot excitedly.

Jungkook grins, “awesome. I’ll take you up on your offer then. Now back to the question, give me two more.”

Jungkook is so interested in him. Holy fuck, Taehyung feels like finally diving up for air after an endless battle under water. He talks with his heart racing addictingly in his chest.

“I would also say that I enjoy writing poetry a great deal and my fifth thing would be” he thinks for a moment, “does music count?”

“Of course it does.”

“Then I would say that I truly enjoy music. Making it or writing it. I love it.”

“These are good answers. They fit you all so well.”

Taehyung blushes. They fit him. His favourite art fits him.

“Thank you”, he whispers with a racing pulse. This is what being human is about. Racing heartbeats because of love.

“Now ask me a question. Let’s make a game out of it. We take turns asking questions.”

“Oh, I love this idea. I shall think of a question.”

“Don’t be shy. Every question is allowed. Even dirty ones.”

Taehyung blushes, “don’t say that.”

Jungkook laughs.

Taehyung takes in the sound and puts it into his memory drawer of favourite things. He studies Jungkook for a moment. He wants to get the first question right. Jungkook’s first question was so perfect that Taehyung doesn’t want to disappoint. Jungkook bites off from his sandwich. Food! Taehyung has the first question!

“Have you been cooking for long?”

“Yes, I liked to occasionally cook as a human, then had to give it up for a while because of my curse, but when I moved in with Seokjin and Hoseok joined us, I picked it up again.”

“That is so wonderful. I never learned how to cook.”

“I can teach you.”

“Oh? Oh no”, Taehyung shakes his head and laughs, “it’s rotten work.”

“Not to me.”

Taehyung stops laughing. He meets Jungkook’s eyes. The latter smiles sweetly.

“Not to me it’s not. I can teach you”, he says.

Something inside Taehyung snaps. Or shifts into its rightful place. Whatever the case, Taehyung cannot take the feelings in his chest and so he acts.

He closes the distance between him and Jungkook, grasping his face to pull him into a kiss. A kiss so passionate he feels tears well up in his eyes.

“Mhm”, Jungkook lets out in surprise, closing his eyes after a few moments of baffled blinking.

He laughs into the kiss, combing his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. The kiss is so passionate. So desperate. Filled with such urgent pleas. Jungkook soon feels his composure falter. He was never kissed like this before. He was kissed with passion, with desire, with desperation, with warm love and adoration, but he was never kissed with such suffocating urgency before. He was never kissed as if it was the only remedy to an ache unknown, as if his lips carried the only spark of life a dying flame clings to.

When Taehyung breaks the kiss, Jungkook feels just a little out of it. Not in a sexual way, but in a deeply emotional way. His lips still taste his kiss, his scalp still feels the paths his fingers took.

“Can I be yours?” Taehyung whispers shakily, resting his forehead against Jungkook’s.

“Tae…”

“Please. I, I know I am rushing it. I know that I am too much and that I am not easiest to like, but-”

Jungkook places his finger against Taehyung’s lips. Taehyung exhales shakily.

“Tae, why are you asking this? You’re already mine.”

“I am?”

Jungkook nods his head, breaking away from him just so he can cup his cheek. Taehyung gazes up at him, holding his breath. The adoration in Jungkook’s eyes is honest and goes so very deep.

“You’ve been mine for months. Do you think that I see this as a casual fling?”

“I don’t know”, Taehyung whispers.

“Well, I don’t. I don’t do flings, I do it seriously or I don’t do it at all. You’ve been mine for months now.”

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out and overwhelmed by his feelings, he falls around Jungkook’s neck in a tight hug.

Jungkook chuckles fondly, hugging him back.

“I was so worried.”

“I could tell. Don’t be anymore, I want this to be serious just as much as you do.”

Taehyung lets out a relieved laugh and buries his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He sobs softly afterwards, grabbing a bundle of his hair to hold it for support. He needs it. He would be lost without it.

“Hey, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” Jungkook asks worriedly.

“I haven’t felt like this for a man in decades. I feel so young again. So, so…so…I feel so alive.”

“You’re so sweet, Tae. I feel really happy as well.”

Taehyung sits back on his feet, taking Jungkook’s hands. His glassy eyes never leave his’, racing between them in adoring obsession.

“I love being queer when I can feel this way.”

“You do?”

Taehyung nods his head, “I witnessed many phases of humanity and how it handled us. Most weren’t good. But the way you make me feel makes me so happy to be who I am.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Oh yes, I am so happy. I am queer”, he spills tears, smiling, “I am queer and I am free and I, I”, he falters, furrowing his brows as his lower lip trembles.

“Go on”, Jungkook encourages him in a whisper, thumb caressing his knuckles slowly.

“I am in love with you. I am so deeply in love with you that I could fill galaxies with it. This isn’t desire. I could go without sleeping with you if that is what you asked. I could miss out on sex. I could. I, I truly could be-because what makes me happiest is being with you.”

Taehyung fights for air before he continues.

“You have no idea what this means. I live for sex, I enjoy it, I desire it, I need it. But if we never made love again, I wouldn’t miss it because I could still be with you. I love you so much that I finally know what it is to love.”

Silence. Taehyung is panting for air. Jungkook studies his face.

“God Tae”, he says “you really held back on a lot, didn’t you?”

Taehyung shies away. His chest tightens. He was too much. Came off as overbearing and as if he wanted to bury Jungkook in love.

“I’m sorry”, he chokes out.

“No, god I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a negative way. I’m happy that you are letting it out. I wanna be someone you can share your feelings with safely”, Jungkook says and tilts his head up so their eyes reconnect, “okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, feeling the warmth return to his chest.

“I’m happy to be queer as well, Tae. I grew up in a very conservative, queerphobic time, so to be surrounded by people like us and to have the opportunity to love freely, makes me so happy to be queer.”

Taehyung agrees with a nod of his head.

“And I love spending time with you as well. You are cute and gentle and you have a good heart. I know you’re older than me, but I want to protect you and take care of you. It makes my heart race and I know it’s because I’m falling in love with you, I can feel that I am.”

“You do? You really do?”

“I do”, Jungkook smiles, “I don’t lie about love. If I say something, I mean it.”

“Oh”, Taehyung gets out and hugs him, “I’m so happy.”

The two men hug for quite a while. They settle back in their places after the hug, but sit a lot closer together. Their knees are touching at all times, sometimes Taehyung or Jungkook reaches over to caress the other’s leg. Taehyung can’t stop sneaking glances at Jungkook and neither can the latter. It feels good to know that the other felt the same.

“Were you in a queer relationship before our poly family?” Taehyung asks and picks his paint brush back up. He can barely paint. He is so giddy that his hand is shaking in a positive way.

“No”, Jungkook shakes his head, “the only relationship I had before our poly family was with my human sweetheart. Otherwise, I wasn’t in any kind of relationship before our poly family. I tried not to kill people by staying away from them.”

“I see. I am sorry. Life must be so lonely as a Ripper or Glutton.”

“It really fucking is”, Jungkook says and despite his words, smiles at Taehyung, “but I’m not lonely anymore. I have our family. My past was sad, but my present isn’t anymore.”

Taehyung smiles, “that is so good to hear. You deserve it.”

“Thanks. Yeah”, Jungkook says and looks at his painting. He looks just a little shy. Shy, but also content.

Taehyung studies his face for a little while, enjoying the way his heart races in his chest. He reaches out and caresses his leg.

“So you didn’t even try anything with Hoseok or Seokjin?” he asks.

Jungkook lowers his paint brush, looking at the trees as he thinks.

“Not really? Not actual sex at least. I was too out of control, I would have just ended up ripping their heads off.”

“I see. How terrible.”

Jungkook agrees with a nod of his head.

“We did cuddle a lot, but that’s not queer, that’s just being really good friends.”

“Of course. Good friends can cuddle just as well as partners can.”

“Exactly”, Jungkook smiles fondly, “I love them both so much. They saved me. I think I would have killed myself eventually if I had never met them.”

Taehyung furrows his brows. Jungkook meets his worried eyes. He touches the side of his neck awkwardly.

“I know, heavy stuff. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Please don’t ever apologise for that”, Taehyung insists, shaking his head, “I understand. You had no support system, killed against your will and had to cope with it alone. Of course your situation drove you to consider suicide. I am so happy that you held out for as long as you did, so you could meet them. This world would have been a sad one without you in it. You are such a strong person, you truly are.”

Jungkook lowers his eyes, touching his chest.

“Well fuck, nobody ever called me a strong person for this. It took so much strength to keep going, so uhm, yeah. Thanks. Seriously, thanks.”

Taehyung holds Jungkook’s hand gently.

“I was truthful”, he whispers.

“I know”, Jungkook whispers as well, lifting his eyes.

Taehyung gazes at him, giving him a shy smile the moment their eyes meet. Jungkook leans in to place a soft kiss on Taehyung’s lips. The latter receives it with a fluttering heart. Jungkook pulls back afterwards, giving him a grin. He picks his paintbrush back up and continues painting.

Taehyung looks at him for just a second longer before continuing his painting as well.

“So who was your first ever queer experience?”

“Yoongi.”

“Indeed?”

“Yeah. God, it’s so embarrassing to think about because I was so out of control back then”, Jungkook says as he has to laugh.

“Really? Tell me about it”, Taehyung snickers as well.

“God, it’s so embarrassing. We didn’t even try a lot. He just touched my cock and I already spiralled. I called him a fucker and tried to rip his jugular out.”

“Oh heavens.”

“Yeah, he had to use force to pin me down and then used his compulsion to calm me down. I kept snapping at him and growling like a fucking idiot. I was such a mess back then”, Jungkook says and laughs.

Taehyung joins him, staring at his lips the entire time.

“That does indeed sound like a very wild time.”

“It was. It really was. God”, Jungkook snorts in amusement, “I felt so bad afterwards and kept crying and beating myself up about it, but Yoongi stayed calm and comforted me. That’s why I can laugh about it these days. It could have become another bad memory, but I look back at it fondly.”

“Of course. It shows how far you have come.”

Jungkook meets Taehyung’s eyes in surprise. He understands.

“Exactly. Yeah, that’s right”, he breathes.

Taehyung smiles shyly, lowering his eyes at his painting. He feels giddy when Jungkook looks at him. He really does.

Jungkook studies his face for a few more moments. He starts to understand what Taehyung means. He hasn’t really felt this way about another man ever and it is a very good feeling. He feels really young and giddy this way.

“Did you always know that you weren’t hetero?” Taehyung asks.

“Mhm, I don’t know. I don’t think so”, Jungkook says, looking at the trees as he thinks, “I honestly felt really happy in my heterosexuality when I was human and I also didn’t really consider other men as attractive. Of course I could see that some were handsome, but I wasn’t attracted to them.”

“I see. So you discovered yourself when you were already turned.”

“I did, yeah. And you? You told me once that you first thought that you were just gay.”

“I told you that?”

“Yeah, in the car. After we hate fucked.”

Taehyung laughs, Jungkook does as well.

“You remember this all this time?”

“Of course I do.”

“Oh”, Taehyung says and lowers his eyes.

Jungkook watches him with growing worry in his chest. He keeps making himself small with each confirmation that Jungkook feels the same. As if he didn’t want to believe that he was worthy of affection.

“Is it my turn to ask you a question?” Jungkook asks him.

Taehyung nods his head, still staring at his hands.

“What troubles you lately?”

Taehyung looks up in shock.

“This is your question?”

Jungkook nods his head.

Taehyung looks away. He stays silent for a long time, losing himself deep in his thoughts. What isn’t troubling him? How does he put something into words which he doesn’t understand either? He can’t find an answer in the end.

“Can you please ask something else?”

“That’s okay, I can do that”, Jungkook assures him, “how many queer relationships were you in before our poly family?”

Taehyung relaxes again.

“Serious or casual?”

“Both.”

“Oh heavens, casual way too many to count. I am quite frankly, such a whore.”

Jungkook laughs, Taehyung does as well.

“As for serious, I would say that I had four serious relationships before our poly family.”

“Four you say? Are they still alive?”

“No, they were all human. I loved them all very much. Their loss ached very deeply.”

“I can imagine. I’m so sorry, Tae.”

“I have healed from it”, he assures him and leans in to kiss him.

Jungkook lets it happen with a fluttering heart. He gazes when the kiss breaks.

“What was that for?” he whispers

“Because I feel so happy to be with you”, Taehyung whispers.

“I see. Then I gotta steal one too, don’t I?” he says and takes Taehyung’s cheeks to use them as leverage to push him onto the blanket. Taehyung falls with a laugh.

They shove and push the picnic and paintings aside, losing themselves in the kiss seconds later. They will be lost in it for a long time. They will use this time in the sweetest, most healing way possible with tangled limbs and dancing lips, mixing in innocent touches and sighs of each other’s names.

And they will make each other feel good. It will feel so incredibly good to them that their hearts will beat in sync through it all. And it will be innocent. It will be the sweet, innocent exchange of touches between two people who are so freely themselves when they are together.

The sun is in the midst of setting already when Taehyung feels the need to share what had burdened him for months. A blanket cocoons them in, keeping their bodies warm in the sinking temperatures. They are on their backs, watching the sky change colours. Jungkook’s body is touching Taehyung’s, sharing warmth this way. Jungkook has his arm stretched to the side, Taehyung is resting his head on it.

“Can you keep secrets?” Taehyung whispers.

“I tend to forget a lot of what other people tell me, so I can definitely keep a secret because I’ll forget it again.”

Taehyung laughs loudly, craning his neck to look at Jungkook.

“I mean it”, Jungkook snickers.

“I know, I just thought that it was funny.”

“Yeah, I know”, Jungkook grins, “now what’s up? What secret do you wanna tell me?”

Taehyung rolls his head back into a more comfortable position. Despite his muscles, Jungkook’s arm is very comfortable to rest on.

“I think it is more of an empty talk about my feelings than an actual secret.”

“That’s okay too. I can listen.”

“I sometimes dream of being controlled. Of being told what to do, how to act, where to sit or stand or lie, what to wear. I dream of it. Dream of having every single aspect of my life dictated.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung with slightly widened eyes, while the latter is too lost in his rant to notice.

“And the thing is? I haven’t figured out whether it is a trauma thing or not. For many, many centuries I didn’t have freedom and lived under constant mind control. I had someone controlling me, but he hurt me as well. A lot.”

“It’s okay”, Jungkook whispers and holds Taehyung’s hand. He heard the tremble in his voice and needed to be there for him.

Taehyung speaks easier with Jungkook’s support.

“I shouldn’t want to be controlled again, but I still dream of it. I truly do. I want to put myself into the hands of another and let them decide what is best for me. Is this wrong of me?”

“You asked me too quickly. I need to think about it for a little.”

“No, please. This was just a rhetorical question, please don’t tell me your stance on it.”

“Why not? It could be good.”

“And if it is not? I cannot bear to be ridiculed, I am not stable enough for it.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung, the latter can’t bear to meet his eyes.

“Are you currently having a hard time?” Jungkook asks quietly.

“I think I might”, Taehyung confesses, “it hasn’t been that long since our situation has truly calmed down and I feel very lost these days.”

“You do?”

Taehyung nods his head, “my life is so different to how it once was. All of our lives are. In the past, Yoongi rarely left his wing, let alone conversed with us, but these days he is spending time with us and talking with us. You, ___, Seokjin, Hoseok and Emma weren’t part of my life either and suddenly you live with us. Peace was never truly lasting for Jimin and me, but now it is our new reality. I am aware that our dynamic changed when we travelled the lands in search for Namjoon, but I feel like we didn’t have time yet to truly bond.”

“We didn’t have time yet to make sense of our situation.”

“Exactly. We didn’t have time yet to truly let it set in. At least this is how I feel. I feel so lost because everything changed so much and now I do not know what to do. How do I live freely? How do I find happiness? How do I…”

Taehyung looks away, touching his chest.

“How do I heal?” he whispers.

“God Tae”, Jungkook whispers and rolls to his side. He gets on his elbow, closing the distance to Taehyung to place a tender kiss on his temple. He hugs his head gently, massaging his scalp slowly and keeping his lips against his temple.

“I do not know how to live my life now that I am free and I think that it gives me a hard time. I am restless and nervous and scared to settle. What if I settle and then something ruins it again? What if I make peace with the fact that I am free only to be captured again? What if I allow myself to heal only to be hurt again? What if”, Taehyung gulps, reaching for Jungkook’s chest, “Jungkook, I think I might struggle more than I initially thought. My heart is beating uncomfortably. I don’t like this sensation, my throat is so tight.”

“You’re safe. You’re in the beginning of a panic attack, but you’re safe”, Jungkook comforts him, rubbing his chest in slow circles, “try to follow my breathing. I know it’s difficult, but you’re not gonna die. Promise.”

Taehyung listens to Jungkook’s comforting words and finds healing in breathing with him. He felt smothered by his thoughts. Small, fragile and incapable of carrying their weight, but breathing helps. His pulse, which once tortured him, becomes bearable again. The rope once tightening around his throat dissolves again.

“There we go”, Jungkook caresses his cheek, “you did it. I’m so proud of you.”

Taehyung closes his eyes and leans into Jungkook’s palm.

“How did you know what was happening to me?”

“Experience. I didn’t have the easiest life as a human once I was drafted. I had a lot of panic attacks in the barracks and the trenches and I helped many of my comrades as well.”

“I see.”

“That’s why I’m so sorry that you feel this way. I understand how you feel so well.”

“You do?”

“Of course. When something changes you as a person as drastically as trauma does, it is difficult to relearn yourself. And it’s only natural to feel restless and lost in calm moments when your life consisted of pain and trauma for so long.”

Jungkook brushes Taehyung’s tears away.

“I know that our traumas aren’t the same, but I also felt like you feel right now when I first had a holiday from the frontlines. Life back home was relatively normal, nobody changed drastically and I should have found peace in resting, but I couldn’t. I had changed. I woke up screaming, crying and throwing up from my nightmares, every loud sound felt like torture to me, my sweetheart’s affection made me uncomfortable and I kept shaking even in calm moments. My family had no idea how to help me and I had no idea how to live a peaceful life anymore because peace felt like mockery to me after everything I went through at the frontlines.”

“I’m so sorry. Oh Kook, war is terrible. I hate that men never learn. It shouldn’t happen. It never should have. What an awful way to solve disagreements. What an awful, inhuman way.”

“I agree”, Jungkook says and rests his forehead against Taehyung’s, “but what I want to say by sharing this part of me, is that you’re not alone. Our traumas may have different origins, but I understand how lost you feel in the peace and how anxious this makes you.”

Taehyung whimpers softly, spilling tears against his will. Jungkook wipes them, keeping close to Taehyung.

“It gets easier, I promise. I never officially returned from the war because I became a Ripper before that, but I still experienced trauma afterwards and when I began to settle with Seokjin, I felt just as lost again because peace wasn’t an option for so long. It gets easier with time, I promise.”

“How long did it take you?”

“A few years.”

“Oh”, Taehyung gets out and sobs softly, “years.”

“It could be different for you. I wasn’t in control back, so obviously I didn’t have absolute peace. But your situation is different and maybe it won’t take you years to be comfortable in the peace. Oh Tae, it’s okay. Let it all out”, Jungkook says and works diligently to wipe every tear Taehyung spills.

“I don’t know why I am crying.”

“It’s okay. That’s all part of the healing. Let it happen.”

And so Taehyung cries. He cries in grief for the person he could have been if he had never gone through hell. He cries in relief from being freed of this hell. And he cries in sweet realisation that he wasn’t alone in this, that he had Jungkook offering him comfort. He cries for many reasons and it felt good to do so.

His thoughts are clearer after the cry, his chest not that heavy.

Jungkook changed positions by now, resting on his side propped up on his elbow and with his hand drying his tears.

Taehyung rolls to his side, looking up at him. He stopped crying many breaths ago. Jungkook still cradles his cheek and brushes his thumb under his eyes slowly.

“I feel better”, Taehyung whispers.

“That’s good to hear. You did really well. I know crying sucks, but it’s so healthy for you. Don’t ever hold it back.”

“It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

“That’s understandable. Come to me whenever you feel like crying. I’ll pay you company as you do.”

“What if it happens often?”

“Then I’ll pay you company until often turns into occasionally and sometimes until it finally turns into rarely.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook brushes his thumb over Taehyung’s temple.

“You’re not a burden, Tae. You aren’t too much or overbearing. You never were and never will be. Not for me and not for our family.”

Taehyung places his shaky hands on Jungkook’s chest.

“Can you control me?” he gets out.

“I’m sorry?”

“Please can you control me? I don’t know what to do, but you do. Can you be the one to control me?”

Jungkook’s eyes soften.

“Oh Tae”, he whispers, “no, I won’t. You will always be free with me.”

“Please. I’m begging you. I don’t know what to do.”

“Then I’ll be with you as you walk the unknown path.”

“Oh.”

“I won’t promise you anything like control, because I don’t ever want to take advantage of you, but one thing you can always count on is me. I’ll carry burdens which are too heavy for you, I’ll show you the way and you can always lean on me, okay?”

Taehyung nods his head.

“Okay”, Jungkook says and kisses Taehyung’s forehead.

Taehyung exhales shakily, chasing the affection with closed eyes.

“Sweetheart”, Jungkook whispers and kisses his lips gently. He had no ulterior motive behind the kiss, no ill intent. But Taehyung is fragile and confused, lost in a situation he knows not to handle healthily.

Taehyung whimpers into the kiss, he chases it, deepens it with trembling lips. His hands slide to Jungkook’s small waist, his breath is instantly quickened, his heart races unbearably. He kneads Jungkook’s waist, touches it, grasps it. He needs to make sure he stays. He needs to stay please. Taehyung whimpers again, lips shaking against Jungkook’s, and then he slides his hands under his shirt to feel his naked skin.

Jungkook breaks the kiss with a gentle “hey”, followed by a chuckled, “what are you doing?”

“I’m yours, please I’m yours so, so claim me.”

“Claim you?”

Taehyung pushes at Jungkook’s chest to gain space. The younger man lets him, gawking at him in confusion. Taehyung hooks his fingers in his own shirt and pulls it over his head.

“Tae, no wait-”

He is shirtless, panting heavily but his eyes carried discomfort Taehyung wasn’t even aware that he felt it.

“God Tae, what are you doing?” Jungkook gasps.

“Take me, I-I can serve you well”, Taehyung stutters, presenting himself in an arch of his back. There are tears in his eyes and fragility in his voice.

Jungkook studies his naked torso for a second, exhaling deeply. He takes Taehyung’s discarded shirt and unbuttons it.

Taehyung puts his hands together and presents them to Jungkook, thinking that he wants to tie him up with the shirt.

But Jungkook doesn’t. Jungkook cradles his hands and holds them one by one as he slides the sleeves back on. He smoothes out the shirt on his back and closes it again in the front.

“I don’t understand. Do you not want me?”

“I do, just not like this.”

“Is it because I’m human? I, I can make myself pretty, I-”

“No Tae”, Jungkook cups his cheek, silencing his anxious words, “no Tae” he whispers, “you’re beautiful. So incredibly beautiful.”

Taehyung lowers his eyes. Jungkook continues with the buttons.

“But you seem unstable to me.”

Taehyung meets Jungkook’s eyes again.

“Consent is more than just believing someone’s words. It’s about reading the situation and I can tell that you don’t really know what you actually want right now.”

Taehyung sniffles in order not to cry. It has been a long time since someone saw him.

“Let’s drink something for now, okay?” Jungkook suggests, rubbing his upper arms soothingly.

Taehyung nods his head.

“Okay. Do you want lemonade?”

“Yes”, he whispers.

“Okay. Me too. I think lemonade is really yummy. You?” Jungkook asks, preparing the fruity drink.

“Me too”, Taehyung whispers, accepting the cup from Jungkook.

Jungkook clings cups with him, making him giggle and lift his shoulders to his ears in shyness.

Jungkook smiles at him, draping his arm around his waist.

“I like hearing you giggle, Tae. You’re really cute.”

“I am?”

Jungkook kisses his cheek, “you are.”

Taehyung whimpers and snuggles his face into his neck, squeezing his waist tightly.

“Thank you.”

“It’s the truth. You’re cute.”

“No. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For stopping it.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, tightening his jaw. How many people ignored the signs and took advantage of Taehyung’s unstable attempts to “serve”? He shouldn’t thank him. Not for something that should be the bare minimum. Jungkook is a very protective person. Once he loves a person (in whatever form that love comes) he will literally burn the world for them. He feels numbing anger right now, wanting to hurt whoever took advantage of Taehyung. But he doesn’t let it show for Taehyung’s sake, speaking softly with the mentally fragile man.

“You’ll always be safe with me, Tae.”

“I know”, his voice is shaky as he speaks.

“It’ll never change. You’re safe and I’m gonna keep you safe.”

Taehyung exhales shakily and while it was shaking, it carried the first indicator of stableness in it. Just a little, just enough that Jungkook knows that all Taehyung really needs right now is a shoulder to lean on and someone being gentle with his words.

“I don’t think I enjoy being dominant as much as I thought I did”, Taehyung confesses quietly.

Jungkook tries to glance at him as best as possible.

“Not in a sexual context, but in general. I crave to be taken care of. I ache for it.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. You are in a vulnerable mental state. It’s okay to want to be taken care of.”

Taehyung lifts his head, looking up at Jungkook with glassy eyes.

“Will you take care of me? Please? At least this?” he asks – begs – him.

“Of course Tae, I’ll take care of you.”

“Oh god”, Taehyung chokes out and buries his face in Jungkook’s chest, “this felt so good to hear.”

Jungkook closes his arms around him, massaging his scalp slowly.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Yeah, let’s stay like this for a while.”

#taehyung romance #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #jungkook romance #jungkook fluff #jungkook x taehyung #taehyung x jungkook #bts romance #bts fluff #bangtan romance #bangtan fluff #bangtan x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #fanfic: caerula luna

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superkirbylover · 9 months

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Ok ok ok, you know that episode where Celestia and Luna went on a vacation, "Between Dark and Dawn"? Well I had a funny idea that is what if they went to Peppino's pizzeria? Like they just enjoying their (possibly first) pizza while planning on what activity to do next meanwhile Peppino just staring at them wondering why the f*ck are the two most powerful princesses in all of Equestria doing at his restaurant.

i want you to know i fucking LOVE this idea. please imagine the following (warning it is long):

the royal sisters come into this humble little pizzeria and nobody's at the counter right now. celestia gently taps the little bell for service, and you can hear peppino in the back saying "just a moment!" then, he comes out. "how can i..." he shuts up as soon as he looks up and he sees. The Fucking Princesses. Right In Front Of Him. celestia asks for a small pizza and she's like, "that'll be... [x] amount of bits, right?" and he's like "nono, y-you don't, have to pay!! if you want?" he's not sure exactly how to take it. "nonesense, i insist!" and she pays the proper amount plus tip. peppino just. quietly says thank you and hurries into the kitchen

gustavo notices pep more anxious than usual, and as the local bestie, he asks, "hey, what happened?" peppino quietly gets out, "the... the princesses are here." gustavo's curiosity is piqued. "oh really?" he leans out of the kitchen to look. "you mean the royal sisters?" pep hurriedly pulls him back in the kitchen, "YES I MEAN THEM, WHAT ARE YOU DOING???" gustavo shrugs and pep just sighs to try and collect himself. "okay, okay, it's going to be okay! i'll just make the pizza, and you make sure brick isn't seen because i don't know what i would do if we got shut down by them." brick is probably in the corner and his head raises at the mention of his name. gustavo raises a hoof, "well, before we do that, i'm just gonna make sure they're doing alright," and he walks out of the kitchen approaching celestia and luna at their table. peppino isn't able to grab him and pull him back in time, so he just whisper-shouts "gustavo what are you DOING, NOOO..." he sucks it up through and focuses on trying to push brick out through the back door, to which brick is. a brick. he refuses to cooperate

meanwhile, gustavo and the princesses hit it off. they're talking and chatting, having a good time. luna notices peppino trying to get brick out in the kitchen and she says something, "is that... a giant rat in the kitchen???" gustavo laughs at her surprise, saying "oh yeah! that's brick, i got him from a tower. he's great!" he turns to the kitchen and sees peppino, who just then realizes he was seen and freezes. gustavo waves to pep to come over and talk, to which pep hastily shakes his head no and pushes brick out of sight from the kitchen doorway. gustavo smiles at his friend's bashfullness, commenting "ah, don't mind peppino, he's just nervous."

the princesses did not mind the giant rat, and in fact loved him (to peppino's annoyance)

#ask #text

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

Text

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Solomon," you hiss at him angrily, trying your best to ignore the way his sad, sympathetic eyes plead with you to be understanding.

After a moment he nods and steps away, quietly wishing you a good night. When the door closes behind him, you pick up the nearest pillow and scream into it. And again. And one more time, for good measure.

You toss the pillow aside and pretend that you're not on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but a few sneaky tears burn your lower lash line and roll slowly down your cheek.

Fuck it.

You drop heavily onto the bed in this place that's so different from your room in the House of Lamentation, and too far from the demons you've grown to love, and you sob into your hands.

It feels like ages when your tears finally run dry and your nose is runny, and your face feels damp and hot with grief.

You're stumbling over to the desk to look for a tissue, or anything other than your shirt sleeve to wipe your face with, when your D.D.D. starts streaming music on its own. It's a classical piece - the melody is haunting but surprisingly soothing.

You hastily wipe your hand on your pant leg and unlock the phone so you can turn off the music streaming from the Deviltube app, but you notice a small pop-up in the middle of your screen.

Karasu: Is there anything else I can help you with today?

There's a small text field underneath, and you're only a little bitter when you sarcastically type,

What's the best way of dealing with meddlesome wizards that keep trying to ruin your life?

You're not sure what you expect, but it's certainly not the response you receive:

Karasu: I'm afraid "How To Break Up with Your Sorcerer Boyfriend for Dummies" is currently out of stock on Akuzon. Would you like another recommendation?

You laugh way too loudly and you feel only slightly deranged when you grin.

I didn't think an AI could be funny.

Karasu: Do you prefer dry wit or 'dad joke' humor? I'm proficient in both.

You're not crying anymore, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. You feel completely out of sorts, almost sick with heartache with everything that's happened, but you're amused by the distraction. This silly diversion takes your mind off Solomon temporarily, but you know it won't last.

I could use a friend like you.

The AI doesn't respond to that, not that you expect it to. Technology is only capable of so much, especially in this strange time period where it feels like you're re-learning Devildom life all over again.

"Too bad they're not real," you murmur to yourself. You stand up and stretch, and you think it's time to wash your face and maybe find a comfortable change of clothes. You wonder if there's any food in the kitchen that Solomon hasn't ruined yet.

But then your D.D.D. screen flashes with a new notification, and your smile slowly fades when you pick up your phone.

Karasu: Would you like to see how real I can be?

#series: karasu 2.0 #my oc: karasu #obey me nightbringer x reader #obey me karasu #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me karasu x reader #karasu x reader #obey me karasu x mc #karasu x mc #obey me karasu x you #karasu x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #obey me oc #gn!reader

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n0n-sen-se · 9 months

Note

I just found you today and Im in love with your writing! If you don't mind could I request some relationship Headcannons with Kyojuro and Sanemi! (separate)

If you write this thank you in advance! <3

-🍷

tysm ♡ i sincerely appreciate it :') and on another note: for these headcannons i decided to add a little bit of everything i could think of! Hope you enjoy them!

𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

includes ;; kyojuro. sanemi. content ;; fluff. like a dash of angst. domestic fluff. a/n ;; this turned out. like i mean there's a ton of hcs but (in my defense) i did try to include a bit of everything!

☆☆☆ # kyojuro rengoku !

kyojuro is one of the most open people you'd ever meet (especially with his s/o) why hide anything? he pretty much wears his heart on his sleeve!

compliments you a ton! and doesn't just dump them on you, they're always genuine things he notices: how amazing your hair looks in the sun, your smile, the way you light up when you talk about something you like. . . all the good things

pretty decent cook, the food will taste amazing just. . . the kitchen is now a hazard zone.

(if your soft spoken ♡) his hearing is a little shot. he'd be so embarrassed of himself for asking you to repeat yourself over and over again (like it has his heart-racing and ears burning) ❛god your precious❜

oh my goodness, kyojuro would write you so many letters when he's away (or even before your relationship) he'd add little dried flowers for you. the best was probably the primrose!

hugging you is a comfort, so sometimes he'll just quietly walk up to you and hold you.

always smiles and brightens up when your around

rengoku nuzzling his nose into your face when he's happy, like literally trying to bury his face into yours

is wholly protective of you, and 100% speaks his mind if he feels someone is mistreating you/doesn't let anyone lay their hands on you (threatening to break their wrists move) also note that he doesn't like to resort to violence.

always opens doors for you, or holds your hand when you stepping down stairs.

it would take a whole lot to witness him cry. and he'll never cry for himself. not when he's hurt. not when somethings weighing on his mind. nothing. except when it comes to you and your happiness.

when fights or arguments happen he needs a moment (a long moment) to think and reflect. . . he puts himself in your position until he finds out what he needs to do.

he comforts you to no end though if your upset, lots of hugs and communication

☆☆☆ # sanemi shinazugawa !

i feel like he doesn't just casually kiss you (?) when you're around him he just holds you, firmly. sanemi always has a hand resting on you: shoulder, lower-back, linking his pinky with yours. at some point he (and probably you) wouldn't even notice the habit it anymore.

when he does kiss you its a whole ordeal, lifts your chin up, slow, passionate to full blown make-out session. usually never just a ❛quick kiss❜

the love aggression he'd feel sometimes-! just watching you. . . exist is so overwhelmingly adorable (he'd never say that exactly) just clenches his fists together and strings together a bunch of frustrated, mumbled swears

honestly, he's very competitive if you two were to play a game together. (a sore winner and loser)

when you're sick his way of comforting you is just quality time, he'll get your favorite snacks and make you as warm as possible, even laying down with you to keep you company. ask him for anything and he'll get it for you or make it better (maybe just this once)

(first) date ideas? none. he'll bring you somewhere that means a lot to him, even somewhere quiet where you can just. . . talk. if sanemi opens up a bit he'd be up for some fun (which usually involves danger or mischief) call it. . . part two of the date!

sometimes you'd just catch him smiling at you, a subtle peaceful stare with the ghost of a smile on his lips. (god, how did he get so lucky?)

fights would be the toughest. not usually because of the initial argument, but because of his inability to talk to you afterwards. disagreements get him frustrated for all the wrong reasons (usually at himself), and instead of dealing with them, he'd rather ignore them.

best thing he considers: is waking up with you next to him, just resting your head on his arm.

ooohh, actually after a while he wouldn't be able to sleep without you. ❛slept like shit❜

all relationships require work, and its definitely worth it! you're already his entire world, he just needs to learn how to show it more

and by god, this man would fight for you. need I explain? he worships you.

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hellfiremunsonn · 4 months

Text

Stuck With Me. Eddie Munson x Reader.

AN: At the end of each chapter will be a picture of ‘your’ Journal. Photos, and writing of a little bit from each chapter.

(THIS IS A REUPLOAD ALL CHAPTERS WILL BE RE UPLOADED ONE BY ONE)

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT.

WARNINGS: Mentions of drinking (they're at a bar) Eddie is sweaty

WORDCOUNT: 5k

CHAPTER 3: THE GANGS ALL HERE

It took about fifteen minutes for the house to become a loud mess of young teens and young adults. Passing between the open door to the backyard, people dipping their feet in the pool, some hovering in the kitchen, and of course Steve, watching Robin with his hands on his hips as she manned the grill. He still didn't trust her enough to cook by herself, and you could only reassure him so many times, but still he refuses to fully believe you.

The gang included, Dustin Henderson, Max Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, who was dating Max. Mike Wheeler and his sister Nancy Wheeler. Will Byers and his brother Johnathan Byers, who was dating Nancy. But Nancy was also Steves ex but they somehow get along really well?. Jane Hopper, who was will and Jonathans step sister, and she was dating Mike.

You sat on the edge of the pool next to Max watching Dustin and Mike battle it out with pool noodles.

"It's crazy to think all of you have grown up together" You comment.

Max turned to you, a small smile on her lips as she looked at you over the top of her red sunglasses. "Everyone always says that" She laughed. "They're the siblings I never had, and although they are all a huge pain in my ass I'm glad I became friends with them, trauma and all"

"Were you at the mall too? With the fire and all that?" you asked quietly.

"Uh yeah, most of us were actually" She seemed like she wanted to say more but closed her mouth. Forcing a tight lipped smile while she looked at me.

"That must have been scary, I can only imagine... But you don't have to talk about it, I get it, I'm sorry for prying" Instantly panicking that you might have crossed a line with the small red head but she laughed instead.

"No don't worry about it, people always ask about it, it's kind of an unbelievable story"

you nodded, turning your attention back to everyone around the backyard. Mike and Jane were sat close together on one of the lounge chairs, deep in conversations while their hands were intertwined.

"Hey can I ask you a question?" You said turning back to Max.

"Yeah of course"

"Who's the guy in the band? The show tomorrow?" your brows furrow, squinting through the sun.

"Eddie?"

You shrug. "Robin hasn't told me his name, keeps referring to him as 'an old friend' for some reason"

Max snorted. "Eddie Munson, he's the dungeon master for the DnD club all the guys were in at school. Or at least he was before he graduated, that's how we all know him, cause of those nerds" She said gesturing to the boys in the pool.

"Eddie Munson" You repeated. His named felt smooth on your tongue, a name you get used to saying... It replayed in your mind over and over again like a spell.

The rest of the night was actually quite peaceful. You all sat around the little campfire and exchanged stories, some good, some cringe, relating to old high school moments, and newer ones from the younger kids. They all seemed so mature for their age. All of them seeming to know more than me, and maybe they had been through more than they let on. But they were all so sweet nonetheless. It was obvious how much they loved and cared for each other.

After the sun had long gone down, we all cramped into the basement to watch a movie, and after almost an hour of back and forth yelling on which movie was better and why you ended up falling asleep about ten minutes into the movie. When you woke up the movie had ended and static played on the tv, lighting up the crowded couch where they all were fast asleep and all tucked around each other. You snuck away to grab your camera and snapped a picture of them, it was too cute for you not to.

"You're such a creep" Robin whispered to you. Waking up from her spot on the other couch, stretching her arms over her head.

"They look cute, sue me" you said without looking at her. "I'm going to head up to bed" you said, attempting to speak through your yawn.

Heading for the stairs you turned back to robin before leaving "Robin?" You said quietly.

"mhmm?"

"I really like your friends. I can see why you keep them around, I've never seen you so happy"

She blushed, the pink still prominent enough in the white glow of the tv. "Thanks... They really like you as well, they can't believe I found another cool friend honestly" She looked at them with fondness in her eyes.

"Goodnight Robby"

You happily tucked yourself into your bed for the week, sinking into the lavish pillows surrounding you.

You woke up the next morning around nine thirty, stretching out your arms and legs. After a few extra minutes of staring at the ceiling you finally got up and creeped into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and peaking into Robins room to see if she was awake yet. She wasn't.

You grabbed a pair of fuzzy socks and tugged them on before quietly making your way downstairs.

Feeling your shoulders relax when you realized you were probably the only one awake right now. You take your time snooping around the kitchen until you eventually found everything you needed to make coffee. You laughed to yourself knowing Robin would curse you for using instant coffee instead of 'the real stuff' considering you worked at a coffee shop. But something about instant coffee just hit perfectly in the morning.

Holding your mug of coffee to your chest you walked over to the large sliding doors to the backyard. Admiring the sun slowly filtering through the trees, bearing down a comfortable warmth before the heat of the afternoon was sure to hit.

You don't know when, or how long Steve had been in the kitchen but when he placed his own mug down on the counter; the ceramic noise of the cup meeting marble startled you and you flinched slightly, your coffee swirling in your mug threatening to spill more than the few splashes that hit your shirt.

"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you" Steve chuckled, his voice low and still groggy. from sleep. Hair a mess of a mop on the top of his head, yet it had somehow gained volume. "You're up early" He said while beginning to fix himself a cup of coffee.

"This is actually pretty late for me, I'm used to getting up so early for work" You pout. "This is the first time I've had more than two days off in a row"

"Really?" Steve said walking over to stand next to you. "How come you work so much?"

"I'm too nice to say no" you sigh, looking down into your coffee cup.

Taking a sip of his own, he nodded with a silent agreement. "That's like me and those little shits asleep downstairs. The amount of times I've considered moving back here just for them"

"You really are quite the babysitter aren't you? Robin makes jokes about it all the time, but it's different seeing you actually with them" you joke, bumping your shoulder into his.

Quiet footsteps from the basement stairs were heard behind you, both you and Steve turning to see who was creeping up the steps. It was Max with her two braids a little messy, a few strands coming untucked. "Oh thank god someone else is awake" She breathed while walking into the kitchen.

"I tried to stay down there but it's so boring when none of them are awake, and Dustins snoring was driving me crazy" Rolling her eyes she began searching through Steves cupboards, and drawers. The two of you continue to watch as she shifted around the kitchen, looking for whatever it was she was looking for. After a few minutes, she had laid out a bunch of bowls and other cooking utensils.

With a huff she leaned with both hands agaisnt the counter and looked up at Steve. "Steve do you have stuff to make pancakes?"

"Obviously" Steve said running a hand through his hair. "Of course I have stuff for pancakes" he scoffed while joining her on the other side of the counter.

As the smell of pancakes, syrup and bacon, filled the air, more and more of the gang slowly began to filter in and out of the kitchen. Grabbing a serving of pancakes and sitting around the kitchen and outside in the backyard to enjoy the morning warmth before it got too hot. You settled with three pancakes, adding sliced bananas on top and drowned them in syrup. "Max these are incredible" You say after swallowing a sticky mouthful of pancake and banana.

"Hey she didn't do all of the work!" Steve yelled over the sound of the kitchen sink, elbows deep in soapy water.

After a day of laying in the sun by the pool, and swimming until your arms hurt it was time to start getting ready for the show tonight. Most of the gang had gone home to get ready which left you alone sat on the floor surrounded by every item of clothing you had brought. You pouted at your choices, none of them seeming to satisfy you. With a groan you leaned back until you were laying on the floor.

"Somehow I always find you on the floor" Robin said from the door. "What's your dilemma this time" She said coming to join you on the floor

"I don't know what to wear" you grumbled, throwing an arm over your eyes.

"Just like, wear something all black, it's a pretty metal band, and a dingy bar so you don't have to try so hard to fit in"

Leaning up onto my elbows you surveyed your options once more. "Do I look like I wear all black?" you say gesturing to the colourful and mismatched pile of clothing.

Robin rolled her eyes. Leaning forward onto her knees she rummaged through the clothes, mumbling to herself as she went along.

"Here" She said shoving a full outfit into your hands. "Go put it on" She poked at your sides until you were laughing and helped you up off the floor. Shoving you towards to bathroom to get dressed.

It was the Metallica shirt that usually you wore exclusively for sleeping. A pair of black shorts, with rainbow striped socks and your converse. It was a simple outfit, and you were kind of annoyed you didn't consider it in the first place. "Perfect!" Robin said jumping up and down while clapping her hands. "You look so cute"

You blush, avoiding her gaze. "You said it was a metal band?"

"Yeah, super metal, very loud, I never know what they're singing half the time, but I'm there to support" She said shrugging, jumping a few times while buttoning up her jeans.

Going with the theme of black, you did some messy black eyeliner, smudging it out around the edges to give it a more 'alternative' vibe, whatever that meant. but I smudged it out more. You added a lightly tinted lipgloss giving your lips a perfect cherry pink color.

The hideout was about an hour away from the centre of Hawkins, the bar stationed at the very edge of the town in an almost deserted area with only a few other buildings around it. The neon sign outside of the door flickered, half of it burnt out but still trying illuminated the large bald man who sat on a stool right next to the door, probably there to card minors, but by the looks of him he probably let most of them in.

Once inside the bar was exactly what you would picture any old dingy bar to look like. Wonky wooden floors that were abused by the heavy footed men who spilled their drinks after having one too many, or knocking over the tall bar tables in some sort of petty fight they wouldn't remember in fifteen minutes. The lights low, so only the few yellow wall lights filled the room with a faint glow. A couple of red faux leather booths across the left side of the bar, closest to the bathrooms that you could only imagine smelled like that weird portapotty chemical smell.

You scrunched your nose at the thought. Most of the gang ran over to grab seats in the booths while Robin lead you to the bar.

"What can I get for you two ladies?" the bar tender asked. He was tall and thick with muscle. Covered in tattoos, and some of them definitely looked gang related, but you didn't let your eyes linger on them very long.

"Could I get a vodka and coke?" Robin asked, her fingers tapping anxiously against the hardwood of the bar top.

The bartender nodded and then looked at you. "Just a sprite would be great" I said smiling. "Also thank you"

His lips lifted ever so slightly into a small smile as he went about making our drinks. You smile to yourself, feeling accomplished from making the mean tough man smile.

"You're not drinking?" Robin asks with a raised brow, fingers still tapping away as she spoke.

"I can feel a headache brewing, don't want to make it worse by drinking tonight" it wasn't a lie, you decently did have a headache brewing, tension from the nerves of finally meeting the mystery man named Eddie. If you added alcohol into the mix tonight you'd be in for a rude awakening tomorrow.

Robin hummed, barely paying attention to what you said, her eyes searching every crevice of the bar.

"Anxious about Vickie?"

Her eyes were wide, and she was so jittery she looked like a chihuahua. "No! Why would I be? Of course I'm not anxious" she said quickly, but folded even quicker.

"Well yes, a lot actually, she said she would be here, but what if she doesn't show?" She eagerly grabbed her drink the minute the bartender set them down. You give him another small smile before slapping down some cash for the drinks, and a couple into his tip jar.

"You talked to her on the phone today right?" Robin nodded, sipping her drink. "And she said she was coming, and that she was really excited to see you right?" You asked, repeating her words from earlier.

"Yeah she did"

"So then she'll be here Robin don't worry about it" you give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and she smiles, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

"I'm sorry for freaking out about it so much"

"Don't apologize, that's what best friends are for, we sign up to listen to you freak out about the same thing a million times, s'just our job" you shrug.

She rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to say something witty probably but the uproar of the gang behind the two of you made her turn around. "Oh!" She yelled and quickly made her way over to the booths. Confused you follow and watched as she envelopes a tall man with long curly hair in a hug. You assume this was the 'Eddie', Max had told you about yesterday but you could only see the back of him.

Shyly sliding next to Robin, who now held him at arms length, you were finally able to see him.

My god was he beautiful. You don't know why Robin didn't tell you; You guess the whole being a lesbian thing it probably didn't even occur to her. His skin looked like porcelain, and his eyes were such chocolate brown you were sure they would make anyone who made eye contact with him melt. He was smiling while Robin babbled to him, words you couldn't even make out because you were so entranced by him. He had dimples, and deep lines that formed when he smiled around his eyes and mouth. His face so full of expression, giving you exactly the response you would want from whatever you told him. When his eyes flickered to yours it felt like time had stopped. He furrowed his brows, just slightly, clearly confused as to who you was, but there was something in his eyes you couldn't quite make out, but it made them sparkle.

"Oh! Let me finally introduce you two" Robin said turning towards you. Snapping you out of your thoughts you shook your head a little, plastering a smile on my face and reaching your hand out towards him.

"She's a she?" He said turning to robin. "I thought your roommate was a dude this entire time?"

"No you dingus, I've talked about her before, and she is very much a she, not a dude. Not my fault you gendered a nickname" She said rolling her eyes and returning to the gang behind you. Everyone clearly already having said their hellos, leaving us to get to know each other a little.

"Sorry about that" you blush.

He smiled at you, bringing his hand forward engulfing yours with his and shook it lightly. He repeated your name, and it sounded like heaven coming from his lips. You correct him, and give him your nick name which you prefer to be called but he ignores it, glancing down at your shirt.

"That's my shirt?" He said letting go of your hand to tug at the hem of the fabric.

"Huh?" you look down at his hand and then back up at him.

"This is mine, I thought I lost it, but you of all people have it?" He said raising his eyebrow.

"Oh Robin gave it to me, she didn't want to throw it out, so I took it" You say shyly, looking down at your feet. "I usually sleep in it, I don't listen to them so I feel bad if I wear it out"

"So you're wearing your pyjamas at a bar?" He teased.

You bit the inside of your cheek and smiled up at him. "I didn't pick out the outfit alright? I'm a lot more colourful than this" You say waving a hand up and down your body.

"I can tell" He said with a laugh. "Alright I gotta head to the stage, I hope you enjoy the show, even if you don't listen to stuff like this"

"I'm sure I will, break a leg up there" You say, giving him a small thumbs up. He crossed both his fingers on each hand in return.

When he made it to the stage you grabbed robin; maybe a little too aggressively as she almost spilled her drink all over the floor. "Why didn't you tell me he looked like that?" you spat, trying not to get the attention of the rest of the group.

"Huh?"

"Eddie!" you exclaim.

"What about Eddie?"

"Oh my god" You ran a hand over your face. "He looks like a fucking sex god Robin and you let me leave the house looking like this?"

"You look cute!" She argued.

"Maybe! Not cute enough for him" You say throwing your hands up in the air.

"Wait do you like Eddie?" she asks excitedly

"Well I don't know him, so I can't say yes to that, but his fucking face apparently has a way of making me have feelings that's for sure"

Robin snorted. "Oh my god I can't believe you're crushing on Eddie"

"Robin I swear to god, if you say anything to anyone I will spill so much lego on the floor of your room you will never be able to walk comfortably ever again"

"I never said I was going to say anything!" She said in defence. "But no, I won't say anything. He for sure thinks you're pretty though" she said into her glass.

"How would you know that?" you snort

"Because he's staring at you" she said smiling.

A panicked quick glance to your right to see that he in fact, really was staring at you. He seemed lost in thought, his drummer talking to him passionately, his hands flying, all while Eddies eyes stayed locked on you. Blushing, you ended up being the first one to break eye contact, but Eddies eyes didn't stray from you for very long.

About five minutes later Vickie finally showed up and ran full speed to Robin, hugging her so tightly while burying her head into Robins shoulder. They stood like that for a few minutes before finally breaking apart to give each other a cluster of kisses, laughing the whole time.

You smiled while you watched them, knowing Robin had nothing to worry about. Vickie is hopelessly in love with that woman.

More people filtered in and eventually people were standing shoulder to shoulder. Robin and Steve creating a protective amount of space around you, knowing know more about these types of crowds. Feeling very grateful to have them as friends who take such good care of you.

When Eddie emerged from the stage again he had removed his leather jacket. Now only a loose black tank top hung over his broad shoulders. His hair tugged half up into a bun to keep it out of his face. When he spoke into the mic I watched as his lips grazed the metal of it with each word.

"How ya doing Hawkins?" His voice echoed through the bar. People cheering and clapping at the sound of his voice.

"It's been a while, but I could never forget my favourite place" Another round of cheers. "Were gunna play a couple of our songs, but we wanna end it with the one that started it all, which is a cover of Metallicas Master of Puppets"

The gang excitedly screamed and clapped, encouraging him.

"Alright, that being said let's get this show fucking started" He almost growled those last few words before he and the rest of his band started jamming on their instruments. Grabbing your camera out of your bag, you snapped a couple pictures of Eddie. For the memories... Obviously.

They were insane. You couldn't really understand the words, and you could feel your headache grow, but being able to watch each of them individually and how much passion they put into their performance it was worth it.

Eddie looked like be belonged up there, like he was born to be on a stage, or at least the centre of attention. How could he not be with a face like that. His head bobbing along to the music as his fingers diligently worked up and down the neck of his guitar. His tongue jutting out over his top lip as he concentrated on the chords. His bangs were clinging to his forehead, sweat dripping down his face and onto his chest. The once loose fitting tank top now clung to his damp torso.

When he finally opened his eyes again he looked right at you but it felt like he was looking through you. It felt like your heart had stopped and time had stood still for the second time tonight. You could see Robin look at you out of the corner of your eye but refused to give her the satisfaction of looking back at her.

When the show finally ended, the entire gang was so hyped up and excited. Apparently Eddie and his band had been traveling a bit around the U.S doing small shows, and people seemed to really enjoy them!

We were all gathered around an old van at the side of the bar while the band came in and out, putting all their equipment in the back of the van. You scuffed the toe of your shoe off the ground while you waited with the rest of them. Robin and Vickie had been attached at the hip the minute Vickie entered the bar, so you drifted off to the side, afraid of bothering the rest of them.

When Eddie came out and the gang got loud again, all of them exchanging hugs, and 'welcome homes'. You leaned against the side of the van watching them, Unable to hide the smile seeing them have so much love for their friend. A heart grunt from the door next to you made you turn, one of the band guys struggling to carry something. His hand was slipping and made the weight off so you jogged over quickly to grab the other end of whatever it was that he was carrying. It looked like it was an amp.

"Thanks!" He smiled and huffed.

"I couldn't just stand there and watch you struggle" You said while straining to keep your end of the amp up high enough to lift up into the van. He let you shift your end in first, clearly noticing your slight struggle. You dusted off your hands on your shorts once the amp was successfully placed into the van.

"Thanks again" He said raising his hand up to you for a high five you smacked his hand, leaving the two of you with a stingy palm

"No problem"

"I'm Gareth by the way" he said introducing himself quickly before returning to the inside of the bar.

Going back to leaning against the van you crossed your arms over your chest, rubbing your arms and resting your hands on the tops of your shoulders, fighting off the small chill from the light breeze rolling by. Closing your eyes you leaned your forehead against the cool metal of the van, letting yourself relax into it slightly, the cold temperature soothing the dull ache behind your eyes.

"So how'd you like the show?"

Eddies voice startled your, your eyes snapping open with a small flinch.

He laughed and gave you a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you" He said holding up his hands in defence.

"It's okay" you laughed. "But I liked it. It was cool seeing you up there, very wild" You said honestly.

"I'm not like that all the time"

"What a rockstar?"

"Well yeah, I'm just a big nerd, town freak, all that good stuff" He said shrugging with a small smile.

"Aren't we all?" You asked tilting your head to the side. "Probably why we all get along so well huh?" You nod towards the slowly dispersing group of friends.

He laughed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, leaning back onto the balls of his feet, with his shoulders tucked up high near his ears. The loud bang of the doors of the van closing made the both of us jump.

"Good to go Ed" Gareth said giving him a thumbs up.

"Thanks man" Eddie said with a salute. He turned back to you quickly. "Where you staying? Steves?"

"Uh yeah"

"I'll drive you" He said pulling out his keys from his pocket.

"Oh no that's okay I came with- Wait where did she go" You looked around for Robin, spinning in a full circle. "She left with Vickie didn't she"

"About ten minutes ago, when you were helping Gareth with the amp"

"The sex better be worth it if she's abandoning me" You say with fake annoyance.

"Your chariot awakes m'lady" He said while dipping into a bow.

"Why thank you kind sir" You quip with a terrible fake British accent, accompanied by a clumsy curtsy. Eddie reached for your hand, grabbing it and leading you up to the passenger side of the van which you now realized was his. He opened the door and continued to hold your hand to help me up and into the seat. After closing your door he jogged around the front and quickly got into the drivers seat.

You clipped in your seatbelt, setting your bag on the floor by your feet. "Is it okay if I cross my legs?" You asked looking towards him.

"Yeah why wouldn't it be?" He said turning around, one hand placed on the back of your headrest as he reversed out of the parking spot. You could smell him like this, sweat, beer, and some sort of cologne you couldn't decipher.

"Didn't know if you were one of those car people" You joke while tucking your legs up and crossing them.

"You mean like Steve?" He said glancing at you.

"Exactly that"

"This van is probably older than me, it reeks of weed and cigarettes, you could pretty much do anything in here, I don't mind"

"I'll keep that in mind for when I have to pee" You tease. "I'll just pee my pants"

He scrunched his nose. "Okay maybe no pissing on my seats"

"Too late, I make no promises"

"You're funny. I like it"

"Oh, uh, thank you" You blush looking down at your hands, suddenly finding the nail polish on them very interesting.

"So, tell me about yourself"

You groan. "That's like the worst way to get to know someone!"

"How is that the worst way to get to know someone? It's such a simple question!" He argued.

"Oh it absolutely isn't! It's like the worst question they ask you at job interviews, I never know what they want to hear!"

He laughed loudly and you couldn't help but laugh with him. His head tilting back slightly. "Okay well what do you want me to know about you?"

"Oh fuck that seems even harder... Let me think about that for a moment" You said, and he let you. You sat in silence for a few minutes while you racked your brain for anything you thought was maybe interesting enough about yourself to tell him.

"I like taking pictures?" You say, catching a side glance at him.

"What do you like to take pictures of?" He asked without a beat, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

"Anything really, I journal them often"

"You journal them?"

"Yeah, I tape them into a notebook, with kind of like a diary entry about whatever I wanna write about, and then I'll say something about the pictures and then cover the page with stickers and doodles"

"Are you gunna put the pictures of me in there?"

Your heart squeezed. "Yeah I might" you admit "You gunna be jealous if I don't?"

"My heart would be absolutely crushed princess" He said while taking one hand off of the wheel to clutch at his heart.

Princess.

A small giggled bubbled in your chest, and a snort escaped amongst the laugh you let out.

"What a wonderful sound that is" he said with a dreamy sounding sigh.

"What is?"

"Your laugh" he said turning to glance at you.

#hellfiremunsonn #hellfiremunsonn stuckwithme #eddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x female reader

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Jungkook: Pride (Intro)

In which sometimes you'll have to be reminded where you came from to appreciate where you are now.

Tags/Warnings: Tiger!hybrid Jungkook, Cat!Hybrid reader, strangers to lovers, sort of soulmate AU?, Fluff & minor angst

-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶--⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-⊶-

"Thank you SO much, you won't ever believe how much you saved me!" Hoseok hugs the tiger hybrid as he takes the plastic bags from his friend. "I just had my hands full the entire day with them all-" The human rambles, but Jungkook waves him off, as he takes off his shoes.

"Don't worry, it was on the way anyways." He reassures, familiar with his friend's apartment's layout at this point. There's little hybrids running around, none older than maybe five it seems- the only older one being Taehyung, a familiar face in Hoseok's apartment since the lion hybrid officially lives with him permanently. Jungkook greets him with a smile, one that's returned silently, as the lion is currently holding onto a sleeping hybrid child on his lap. "Did you wash something in here?" Jungkook wonders, bringing some of the bags in the kitchen.

"No?" Hoseok wonders. "Why?" He asks, putting the groceries away in their respective places while the younger hybrid helps.

"Just wondering." He shrugs, throwing the empty bag into the bin close by. "How come they dropped so many kids at yours this time?" He asks.

"A raid." Hoseok grimly explains. "Underground trading, again. It's the second one this year." He sighs. "There's really no end to it, is there? One gets shut down, just for another to pop up.." He mumbles, watching the children play around.

"It'll get better." Jungkook tries to help, though he himself barely believes it as well. "What's with all the strawberry milk?" He wonders, watching his human friend put all the little juice boxes and bottles of said strawberry milk into the fridge.

"Ah, that's for angel. She doesn't really have a name, so we just call her whatever for now." He says, taking one out before looking at Taehyung, who's still trying to get all the young hybrids to take a nap. "I'll bring her one later, when they're quiet. The kids might stress her out too much. She's not good at handling a lot of sensory input." He explains.

"Another hybrid?" He asks, and Hoseok nods.

"Housecat hybrid. Brought back recently, but the social workers gave no reason as to why. Just said she's back, nothing else." Hoseok sighs, shaking his head. "I'm not sure what has happened to her. She won't talk, seems nice, but a bit clingy. She's alone right now only because of the kids." He explains to Jungkook, who nods.

"You want me to bring this to her?" He wonders, pointing to the tiny snack and bottle of milk presumably for you. Hoseok shrugs.

"Sure. She's in the left guest-room." He tells the tiger, who nods, before walking to where his friend had told him you'd be hiding in. As soon as he gets closer, that smell becomes stronger too- an oddly floral but soft scent, sweet but not too overbearing. It's a nice smell- but nothing he's ever quite noticed ever before.

"Hey- Hoseok asked me to bring you something to eat?" He asks quietly, knocking on the slightly ajar door, before he looks around. There doesn't seem to be anybody there- oh.

There you are.

You're watching him from the corner of the room, wrapped up in a blanket, seemingly having just woken up from a nap. You're nothing he's not seen before- a standard cat hybrid, maybe a bit on the shorter side, but probably his age, give or take a little. But something just seems to pull a purr from his chest, a buzzing feeling making him all warm and soft at the sight of you just merely looking at him. And the moment you yawn, tiny sharpened teeth showing, he's a goner.

You've got him captured, tamed, by doing absolutely nothing it seems.

He sits down a bit closer to you, gives you your small sandwich and your milk. You're purring, loudly so, and he loves the sound of it already. Your lips seem a bit chapped, bitten raw in some spots which seems to be due to nervousness and stress- and it's understandable. Not only have you been given away and removed from your home, but you've been basically betrayed and brought into a hectic environment that's probably not the best option for you.

Jungkook has always wanted to do something good for a bigger cause. Maybe he's just found his chance of doing so.

You remind him of himself, in a way. You're not scared, rather curious- quiet, but not dismissive, or uninterested. He likes you, clearly, it's pretty obvious that you're his mate even though it makes zero sense as you're a housecat and not a tiger, and he himself isnt even the same hybrid level- but he won't think about that.

He's found you, and he's going to make sure he won't let you down like you've been let down before.

"Figured something like that." Hoseok chuckles, watching how Jungkook opens the bottle of strawberry milk for you, as your tail snaps up a little.

"Huh?" Jungkook asks, his ears twisting and turning a bit in embarrassment as he tries to play it cool.

"Oh, come on now, Jungkook." He laughs. "I already knew something was up when you kept noticing a strange smell." He informs the tiger. "You might be a Level 2 but you're still a hybrid down the line, no matter how independent." He laughs.

"Well- ah, leave me alone!" He growls playfully, making your tail swish from side to side in amusement, clearly happy at the mood in the room. Jungkook himself wants to just pick you right up and carry you home. You're already melting his heart with nothing else but a smile.

"Oh, I will!" Hoseok says. "But I doubt she will now." He teases, making Jungkook smile.

Well he sure hopes you won't.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 8 months

Text

Part 15

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 14 🟣 Part 16

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Ongoing vampire shenanigans, mentions of blood, biting, angst. SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, Dom!August, p-in-v sex, and we're finally putting that special little talent August has to good use. I think that's all necessary warnings, but as always; tell me if I missed something, please!

Word count: 4334! (hm, yes, beautiful number <3)

A/N: Alright! We're finally fucking some vampires - ones who don't answer to the name "Mike", that is. So I guess it's a moment we've all been waiting for... Or like... Y'all have been waiting for, I knew it was going to happen. Enjoy, loves.

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld

“Hello, princess,” August yawned as he stepped into the kitchen. “Everyone’s out.” It was not a question, but rather a statement – of something so glaringly obvious that you had already figured it out before you set foot outside of Sherlock’s bed, where you had woken up. He’d been the last to feed last night, after Mike had gracefully accepted – save for some slight protesting – that you wouldn’t share his bed that night, no matter how happy you were that he was home again. Now, he was probably out to talk to some teachers about his recent absence. Sherlock had kissed you goodbye that morning at an absolutely unholy hour, to make the commute to his new workplace – a university in another city almost two hours away. Marshall was… where he always was, working some case or another until he could barely stand on his feet.

August was the only one of the guys who had taken a vacation these weeks, and you found yourself oddly grateful that you weren’t all by yourself this morning.

“Hey,” you answered, “want some breakfast?”

He laughed, taking your hands in his and leaning his forehead against yours. “Allow me,” he muttered. For the first time, you dared to ask him why he always seemed so happy to cook for you – the question made him laugh. August didn’t laugh often, but when he did… The sound was something mystical, in a way you couldn’t quite explain. “It’s my second-best way of showing you how I feel about you,” he chuckled.

“What’s the first?” You realized your error too late, and by the time you figured that out, August had you pinned between the counter and his body, with no possibility of escape.

“I could show you,” he said, grinning widely.

“You know how I feel,” you teased, hoping to get him to do the heavy lifting, which – surprisingly – he didn’t. Instead, he took a step back.

“No, princess,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That’s not gonna work.” He stepped closer to you again, putting a hand against your cheek. “I want to hear the words. From you,” he mutters, his voice dangerously void of emotions – until you look into his eyes.

“August?” With your thumb, you gently wiped the tears away. “What’s wrong?”

“Yes, I know how you feel, but talk to me, please,” he whispered softly. “I want your feelings for me to be important enough for you to say them out loud. Despite my already knowing them.”

“Oh, August, I didn’t think…”

“No one ever does,” August replied to you plainly, although there was an apologetic smile on his face. “Promise me, princess… Share your feelings with me, your desires with Mikey and your thoughts with Marshall the way you talk to Sherlock.”

Slowly, you became aware of August’s hands, resting on your hips. Resting your head on his shoulder, you leaned into him, and he responded by wrapping his arms around you. “All of them?” you asked quietly. His answer was a simple nod. You hummed – a half-chuckle that didn’t seem to surprise August at all. “You make my heart beat faster, and when you touch me, it sends shivers down my spine – even if you just hold me like this… When I think about you at night, I feel butterflies. I am so completely, incredibly and undeniably attracted to you, and I want to know you in every possible way.”

Before you had good and well finished your sentence, his mouth was on yours, eagerly moving against your lips, the coarse hair of his mustache scratching your skin. There was something uniquely romantic about the way he kissed you, as if you could feel the walls he normally had put up around him fall away – as if he was really letting you in for the first time since you’d met him.

After some time, he broke your kiss, holding your face in his hands. He moved away, leaving you looking into a pair of hungry blue eyes. “Can I take you to bed?”

You gasped your answer – a clear, resounding ‘yes’ – and nodded as his eyes begged you to temporarily waive the ‘human speed’ rule in the house, which you gladly did for him in this instance.

When your back his the mattress, you laughed. “You need this, don’t you?”

“’Need’ is a strong term,” he chuckled, laughing when he saw your puzzled expression. August pulled you into his side, where you quickly got comfortable.

“There’s something about you, August,” you sighed. “Something that’s not entirely like the others. Something…”

“A little deviant?” he asked, using your words from the day before. You nodded. That was exactly what you were getting at. “I’m surprised you noticed. Most of my kind… or kinds, I suppose, don’t.” He absentmindedly ran his hand over the arm you had lying across his chest. “I’m not a full vampire.” Now that was surprising… “I wasn’t bitten, I was born. About four hundred years ago. I am a vampire – my father was one. My mother, however… She was a succubus.”

“Succubus as in… female sex demon?” you asked, slightly confused by the revelation that those, too, existed.

“Put bluntly, yes,” August chuckled softly. “They’re quite rare, and there’s not a lot known about them, unfortunately. It’s said they need semen to survive, which we know isn’t true, but it’s a rather persistent piece of folklore. They feed off energy of a sexual nature – orgasmic nature, to be precise.”

“Do you?” It didn’t sound like much of a problem to you if he did.

“Yes and no,” he answered vaguely. “It can’t sustain me, but it’s a very nice snack. My gifts to feel and influence other’s emotions seems to be a result of my mother’s proclivity for perceiving those energies…”

“So, when you say ‘nice snack’…” Your voice trailed off, but August laughed understandingly, anyway.

“I mean I’m going to make a point of making you cum so many times you won’t be able to stand,” he growled in your ear before chuckling. “You like it when I talk to you like that, don’t you, princess?” Instead of answering him, you squirmed in his arms. “I love how comfortable you are around us,” he said suddenly, taking you by surprise – to say the least. Nevertheless, you knew exactly what he meant.

“It’s very… liberating,” you said slowly, “not being able to hide from you guys… At first it scared me, but now – ever since the agreement, I’m sure you noticed – I don’t want to hide anything from you anymore.”

“Nothing at all?” August asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. What could he possibly be up to now? Hold on…

“What’s the… range on this gift of yours, Walker?” you snapped, slapping him on the shoulder out of reflex, hurting your hand in the process. “Do you just go around listening… feeling in on my, eh… private time with Mike?”

“I try not to,” he replied apologetically. ‘Try’. A very nice word to hide a ‘yes’ behind. “Sometimes I can’t help it… You and Mike – especially Mike, unfortunately – are very loud in your affection for each other. When you first moved here it was so bad I had to leave the house on occasion…”

“August!” you shrieked, pulling the pillow from under your head and putting it over your face to hide your embarrassment – completely unsuccesfully, of course. Your cheeks were burning, and you were overwhelmed by shame – not just because August knew some extremely intimate details about your sex life, but also – if not mostly – because you found that really, really hot in a way you couldn’t describe, even if you tried.

“Marshall couldn’t stand the two of you, either,” he chuckled, “but he didn’t feel the same way I felt about you back then.” Right… August had a thing for you when you first moved into the apartment… “I can tell you’re curious,” he laughed, “it wasn’t a crush so much as a… craving. It’s not gone – it never went anywhere, if I’m being perfectly honest with you.”

“A succubus-craving?” you asked, putting the pillow back where it belonged.

“Incubus, technically, but yes.” He turned his head, laying his forehead against your temple. The soothing baritone of his voice seeped right into your bones, making you shiver, and an involuntary moan escaped you. “It’s a very intense need to see that you’re taken care of.” August startled you by gently sucking your earlobe into his mouth, and biting down on the soft flesh, making you gasp. “And I would have preferred to be the one doing it myself, but as long as he managed… And from what I’ve gathered over the past months, he manages just fine…” His voice was nothing but a low growl now, with a jagged, feral edge to it that effortlessly caused goosebumps. “But today…” “It will finally be you,” you sighed. Fact of the matter was that you had been waiting for this moment as much as he had – although maybe not for quite as long.

“Well… I need you to do something for me first,” August said softly while he grabbed your hand and guided it between your legs. “Touch yourself. Cum for me. Let me know how it feels…”

“You know how it feels,” you muttered. It had only been a few months since you first had sex with the lights on, for crying out loud, and now August, who wasn’t your boyfriend, wanted to watch you finger yourself until you came so he could what? Get off on it himself? This was beyond scary…

“I want to know what it feels like when you know I’m watching you,” he growled, “you’re different like this, just like you’re different when you’re by yourself. Sometimes I wish I had Marshall’s gift, too, so I could know if it’s different depending on which one of us you’re thinking about.” With every word your heart rate climbed higher and your cheeks burned hotter. “You do think about us, don’t you?” There was no point in lying, but there was also no way you could speak, so you nodded. While August was talking, your fingers had started to move as if by magic, drawing circles around your clit. Soon, you found yourself restricted by your underwear, and you slipped your hands underneath the fabric. “All of us?” Another nod. “Separately?” The question pulled you away from your self-induced pleasure; your eyes flew open and your muscles cramped. When your eyes met August’s, it was like he’d tapped directly into your most private thoughts. Maybe you hadn’t been speaking the whole truth when you said you had nothing to hide from them anymore. But it was no use trying; August may not have been able to read your mind, but he had certainly felt your heart skip that proverbial beat when he mentioned it – as if your eyes didn’t give away everything anyway. Despite your obvious terror, August didn’t seem prepared to drop the subject. “Hm, I’d be up for it.”

“What?” You hadn’t really expected that to be his response to your half-admitting to having thoughts of fucking more than one of your housemates at the same time…

“After a few centuries…” he made a vague gesture you were not sure you understood the meaning of.

“Does it get boring?” you asked.

“Never,” he nuzzled your neck, occasionally pressing his lips to your skin. “It always feels different.” His hand covered yours and gently guided it back into your panties. “Please,” he muttered, “keep going. I need to know.”

Your fingers seemed to move on their own again, but this time, you didn’t get distracted by the words August muttered into your ear: “You’re killing me, princess. Cum for me, please.” After that, he showered you with praise, every word of it bringing you to new heights until you finally exploded. August let out a loud gasp. “Fuck, princess you’re delicious.”

“Right,” you chuckled while trying to catch your breath, “incubus-snack.”

“And a catalogue-building moment,” August chuckled mischievously.

For a moment, you wondered what he could possibly mean by that, and then you felt it; another orgasm building inside of you, steadily and very quickly, and without a single touch.

“Are you serious?” you laughed.

August responded with a dark chuckle. “Until you can’t stand, princess,” he reminded you of his promise from before while he continued to push you towards your sexond climax without so much as lifting a finger. “Be a good girl and cum for me again.” Naturally, you were more than happy to oblige, and August roughly pulled you into his side – almost hurting you – when you came again, whispering another comment about how good it was in your ear as you did.

“Are they as good as the… manually obtained ones?” Weird way of putting it, but for lack of a better way to say it…

“Every bit as good,” August hummed contently, “I could do this all day.” Honestly? So could you… Sure, your muscles would get tired eventually, but the lack of friction meant you could likely keep this up for quite a while. Besides, you doubted that August’s gift would let itself be stopped by a little leg-cramp. “The one thing that’s better…” His voice trailed off as he slowly kissed his way down your neck, his hands slipping underneath the old t-shirt you wore to bed. Without thinking, you reached for the hem and pulled it over your head, leaving August chuckling at your sudden eagerness. Your hands moved to undo the buttons of his shirt, but you soon got distracted and allowed tourhands to roam his chest.

“The scars…” you whispered as your fingers trailed the raised crescent lines on his chin.

“Paris in the nineteenth century was a dangerous free-for-all,” he sighed wistfully, “it was swarming with vampires and other creatures. Succubi, incubi, werewolves, vampires, some monsters you’ve never even heard of. Feeding was a criminal offence, and this was France, so breaking the law didn’t typically end well.”

“Yet you seem to remember it fondly,” you said bitterly, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from saying something stupid. “What was her name?”

“Miriane,” August answered. “And his name was Elias, in case you were going to forget about that question.”

“Was she like me?” you asked. “Or was he?”

“He was,” August remembered, “but she found him, and he was hers – and so was I. Admittedly, I was first, but… like I said. Free-for-all. My gift made it easier to find willing victims, but as you can see, I got attacked a lot. That ended with him. Until…”

“What happened?” you asked breathlessly, looking at August with wide eyes.

“I left,” he snapped. Clearly that was the end of that line of inquiry…

“Who attacked you?”

“Other vampires. Ones without powers. Ones with powers that were less useful in those particular instances. Most of us didn’t want to kill to survive, but few had the option. I guess one would consider me lucky, even though I hardly have what’s considered an ancient gift.” He scoffed, then smiled, sensing your confusion. “Sherlock’s is – the compulsion, I mean. My father has it, too. Unsurprising, since he and Sherlock were turned by the same man.”

“So Sherlock is more or less your uncle?” you asked with a barely discernible smile on your face.

“Oh, please, no! Trying to impose human family ties on vampire covens is next to useless and will quickly make several things very, very awkward,” August laughed, laying his head on your chest. His hand moved up to cup your breast – which he somehow managed to do incredibly casually.

“Awkward, how?” Why? Why did you always have to know? The answer would probably make things awkward and…

Luckily, August was smarter than you in this particular instance: “After, princess.”

And that was the end of your conversation; August turned his head to wrap his lips around your nipple, and that was your cue to cease any and all rational thinking. So, this was wat patience felt like? Several centuries of practice in restraint? Paired with the ability to feel exactly what each move did to you… All those things put together should have made him better than Mike in more ways than one – maybe even more than the obvious – but weirdly enough, they didn’t make him better so much as exquisitely different. You’d become used to the way Mike would spend a whole lot of quality time with your boobs, so the fact that August moved on relatively quickly only to tease you relentlessly when he settled between your legs was almost disappointing in a way.

“I’m not Mike, princess,” August laughed when you tangled your hand in his hair in an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to pull him to where you needed him most.

“I know that,” you huffed, scowling down at where August was busy scraping his teeth over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Immediately, his icy blue eyes shot up, meeting yours.

“Do you?” He raised an eyebrow in that way that made you want to punch him and bit down harder on your leg. “I might even try Marshall’s favorite technique,” he said indifferently, a grin spreading on his face as you struggled to remember what he meant by that. Oh no! August chuckled when your expression told him you finally remembered. Another nip at your thigh was followed by the wet warmth of his tongue soothing the sting of the playful bite, and finally another stinging sensation as he sucked on te sensitive skin.

“Do you know you’re not Mike?” you chuckled. He rolled his eyes at you. Why did it make you so happy when he did that? Simply because he looked so incredibly hot while doing it? Then again, when did this man not look incredibly hot?

He stuck to that one love bite, and seemed to decide that that was plenty of teasing for today. As it turned out, being able to feel exactly what you felt was as good a gift as being able to sense desires. Honestly, it was such close competition that you wouldn’t dream of trying to figure out which was better – even more so because it would cut into your ‘enjoying being eaten out’-time. As if you had a prayer at thinking straight while August worked your pussy with his mouth, anyway; as soon as he flattened his tongue against your clit, it was over for you. Your back arched off the bed and you tangled your hand in his hair to pull him closer.

He finished you in no time, chuckling as he kissed his way back up your body again.

“I need you inside of me, now.” Whoever this breathy, more-moan-than-anything-else voice belonged to, it couldn’t be you, could it?

“Good girl,” August murmured. A few swift moves later, he was naked. You let your eyes travel down his body and sighed. He looked just as good as you’d imagined. “Let me take care of you.” Another orgasm hit you out of nowhere as August teased you by sliding the tip of his cock along your slit. It startled you – unnecessarily, of course. You just hadn’t noticed him putting on a condom. Fucking vampires – literally.

“Please stop teasing me,” you pleaded, “and come here.” Pulling him in was a fruitless endeavour, as always – annoying the everloving hell out of you, as always. And as always, the alternative – him indulging you – would have made matters so much worse. So he stayed put, teasing you more, until you were a squirming, whining mess underneath him, and he had an insufferably cocky grin on his face as he made you cum again, and again. You’d already lost count – but his eyes clearly told you that he hadn’t. “God, I wish you were Mike,” you blurted out. It was a lie – you were happier than happy to be here with August right now, but damn the man could do with half the patience he had.

A sadistic chuckle escaped him. “You’re so incredibly desperate for me,” he whispered. “I didn’t know it could feel this good.”

“Another snack:?” you asked sarcastically – and before you registered any movement at all, August’s hand was on your throat.

“It’s that attitude, or my cock, princess,” he snarled, “you can’t have both.” The pressure on the sides of your throat increased slightly, and you gasped. The next orgasm felt different – heightened, in a way, no doubt by the way he handled you right now. “So, which is it?”

As far as you were concerned, this condescending asshole could go to hell – which you didn’t neglect to tell him. Did it have the predicted effect? Absolutely. Did it have the desired effect? Not even close.

He dragged you up by your hair. “Knees.” Not a question. Very, very much not a question. It was also impossible to disobey him, as he still held much of your hair in a tight fist at the back of your head. “Open.” You had to give Mike credit; when he’d done his little failed experiment, his August-impersonation had been eerily on point. Which, of course, you hadn’t known at the time. But now… now you knew. And God, it suited August so much better – although he’d already shown you he could easily do ‘sweet and caring’, too.

Despite the orders shooting straight for your clit, you opened your mouth with the utmost reluctance, helped along by August’s piercing glare and a very persistent thumb that all but forced its way into your mouth. You made a few quick mental notes for comparison – you simply couldn’t help it. Mike was all about sensations; temporarily taking senses out of the equation, heightening others, playing with them, blending pain and pleasure… August didn’t give a damn about sensations. And who could blame him. He could already make you feel anything he wanted without lifting a finger… This was about control. And he was going to have to fight for it. At least that’s what you would have bravely thought about the whole situation if you hadn’t had cock stuffed balls deep down your throat, tears gathering in your eyes, and a ruthless man hovering over you, making you gag around him.

He fucked your mouth like he owned you – and he wasn’t wrong about that. You couldn’t move away from him, you couldn’t breathe, and the tears blurred your vision to the point where you couldn’t see, but you didn’t panic, finding comfort in the thought that August could feel exactly what you were feeling. A few months earlier you’d never thought you’d feel this way, but now you trusted him to take care of you on such a deeply intimate level, that you instinctively relaxed around him. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“That’s my good girl,” he said softly as his grip on your hair relaxed a bit. Oh, he still held you in place, but not with the same iron grip he’d used before. This was softer, gentler and something vaguely reminiscent of a kind of trust.

Surely enough, he soon let go of your hair altogether. “Keep going.” His voice was gentler now, but you didn’t dare make the mistake of assuming anything was up for negotiation. Despite your realization, his hand found its way to the back of your head again rather quickly, nudging you along. “You can do better than that,” he said as he pushed himself deeper into your throat until you were taking all of him again. “Perfect.”

When he let go of your head again, you quickly found yourself in the same predicament. “Just because I let go of you, princess,” he grunted, a tinge of annoyance to his voice, “doesn’t mean you don’t have to take every inch of me. Come on.”

He didn’t allow you to stop sucking him off until you were taking all of him, all by yourself – and for a good while. As you did, he kept giving you those little compliments that made your heart beat faster. Somehow, knowing he knew exactly what his words did to you made it even more exciting. By all means, you should feel terrifyingly exposed, unable to hide from him and his gift – or any of the others – but you didn’t. It was, as you’d mentioned before, very liberating to have them know everything.

After some time, he pulled away, sinking to his knees in front of you, cradling your face in both hands as he wiped away your tears with his thumbs. “You did so well, princess,” he whispered, leaning in so he could press his lips to your forehead. “Now be a good girl for me and get on your knees on the bed so I can fuck that pretty little pussy.”

You had to admit, as you very willingly – eagerly, even – crawled onto the bed again, that August had already done a very good job of fucking the attitude out of you, and something told you he hadn’t even really started.

This time, he didn’t tease you. He just sank into you with one smooth thrust.

“Fuck, princess,” he grunted, his tone suggesting he was going to say more, but he didn’t – or, more accurately; he couldn’t. His near-continuous stream of moans was interrupted only by the occasional swearword as he set an intense pace. With every thrust, your walls clenched around him, your thighs quivered and your fingers’ grips around the sheets tightened. “I’m gonna make this short,” he growled as his hand found it’s way into your hair, and he pulled you up until your back hit his chest. His final thrusts into you were merciless, and another orgasm rippled through you – his doing – exactly at the same time August reached his own peak.

Moments later, the vampire had taken care of cleanup and he held you snugly against his chest, where you quickly threatened to doze off, if it weren’t for Mike, who came home at that moment.

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unlikelyjapan · 10 months

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s2e6 rewatch notes - part 2

OK, jumping back in from the point where Stevie says "Carm, this is a good thing."

Richie passing Tiff the Sprite (inside the bedroom that is totally just the walls of Donna's brain - the Carmela Soprano-esque mom tchotchke's mixed with predatory animal statues and black accents - maybe a bit too on the nose....) and saying "Carmy made this for you - he's a god damn pop machine, this guy. He's a weird little dude!"

Both Richie and Tiff mistake Carmy's kindness for weakness, just like everyone else from his past. It explains why Tiff would gravitate towards someone like Richie - she hates his brashness (see when she wanders into the kitchen scene after throwing up and he's just revving everyone up) but accepts it so long as it's countered with tenderness because that fits with her idea of masculinity and normalcy.

"We're trying to....um....you know, hook him up with Claire Bear -loosen him up a little bit."

Tiff - "With Claire? Why would you do that? She's so nice."

Nice people (shorthand for normal people) deserve archetypical masculine guys who can be romantic - not people who are neurodivergent and kind. Trauma doesn't factor into any of their considerations in setting people up, because they don't reckon with their own.

The subject changes to Richie and Tiff's relationship and future plans/housing - after just discussing how to "turn Carmy into a MAN man" we watch Richie quietly flounder because we know damn well The Beef won't afford the kind of life Tiff envisions for their new family. Tiff shares her dream about the all-green clothes for them/red for the baby (the baby breaking their mold/image) and they wonder aloud if they're going to be good parents and if Eva is going to like them.

It's true that they'll be better - they're present, they don't want to start from a bad place. But when we look at how they were razzing Carmy, it's indicative of the fact that they're not about to shed the baggage of their histories - they are playing roles that were established for them through their pasts, so they're doomed to failure after the glow of new family wares off and life gets in the way. It'll just look a little different, a little better.

Richie utters "I don't want to be at The Beef every day" to Cicero as Mikey is ranting about the Bill Murray story in the background. Richie was exhausted by the patterns in his life 5 whole years ago, and it wasn't just about providing for his family. It's so obvious that he fully regressed during the pandemic/things not working out in his new life the way he hoped. He also knew at that time that "I'm good with people, but I've never really had an outlet for that" and he never gets to prove what he intuits until "Forks" - by the grace of Carmy, no less.

*lights a candle for Natalie Berzatto* All of Natalie's abuse is so straight-forward and targeted. I'm glad they explored her character this season, but she's still too neatly-tied for the type of abuse she endured. Some of that is a celebration of her core female essence/strength, but I feel like some of the veneer still has to crack in future seasons - if they have her reeling from postpartum depression in S3 on top of her initial worries about Donna/motherhood, it's truly going to break my heart.

Taking a moment just to appreciate John Mulaney belittling the Faks, as it's the only scene where I found their presence enjoyable.

Carm grabbing the saltines and asking Mikey about them working together - Mikey saying The Beef is a nightmare is self-explanatory, but the fact that Carmy follows it up with "I don't want you talking to Claire if you don't give a fuck" and Mikey assuring him that he does, convinces Carmy that Mikey loves him through his meddling with Claire. Out of the two things Carmy has yearned for (at this stage in his life) since high school, Mikey only wants him to have one of those things - the one Mikey and co. decide will be good for him.

Mikey saying "I give, like, the biggest fuck" and Carmen looking pacified/accepting of that statement, means that his father brother is telling him that Claire is the most important thing for him to pursue in his life, and he's just asserting his love for his brother by trying to set him up with her. So much damn pressure....

Discussing The Bear drawing outside the pantry

"It's beautiful....",

"Yeah....we could do this"

"Yeah.....let it rip."

I'm pretty sure this is the last one-on-one conversation Mikey and Carmy ever had, matching the suicide note - this scene is a living goodbye, and John Berenthal plays it like he knows it. Expert-level shit, expert-level acting all around.

All hail Sarah Paulson's hot mess of a character (you can take the dysfunctional girl out of the midwest, but you can't take the midwest out of the dysfunctional girl), even if she was just around to narratively offer Carmy a flashing exit sign (knowing that he's talented and cognitively different from the rest of the lot) and dole out the story about how bears grieve.

I think one thing that Richie, the Fak's and other "related by friendship" hangers-on have in common is that they recognize that Mikey and Carmy's familial suffering has made them dynamic in ways that their own suffering has not. Both have their own unique gravitas that separates them from all the other men in their crummy suburban life - these other men are trying to absorb power by proxy.

"Can you just go and get Dad's gun out of my drawer and I think I'm just going to blow my fucking brains out and then you guys can make dinner because I don't think anyone would fucking miss me" - many thanks to @loudlightobservation for pointing out in the part one comments that Donna probably has untreated Borderline and Narcissistic PD. I initially thought this scene was over-the-top, but I burned an hour reading about how severe the reactions to perceived abandonment can be in these cases.

As per my comments about Natalie and her veneer, at least she can do things like ask Stevie "can you hug me?" and select men like Pete who will always be ready to do so. Unlike the boys, she learned how to identify needs and self-soothe early, probably because she was the most neglected of the three.

Didn't know where to put this: Cicero's relationship/flirtation with Donna when she's in the kitchen "do you know how fucking hot you are when you're slurring your words?", Lee's hatred of Cicero, and Lee trying to make inroads with Donna (again) through a work collaboration - the building in Wilmette likely being the property that Cicero mentioned having to offload. Carol (revealed to be Cicero's wife by name in s1e4) yelling at Lee as he enters for his first scene of the show. Again, I didn't know where to put these interconnected notes, but WHAT. THE. FUCK. HAPPENED. HERE.

Also, is Lee a former partner in The Beef (after he presumably replaced the Berzatto patriarch for a stay) and that's part of the resentment towards Mikey - along with sharing Donna for a time? Or is it something else? I've had a hard time piecing together these narratives beyond the obvious psychosexual connection to Donna.

Ugh, the all-hands crucifixion of St. Pete - I morphed from "who is this cuck?" in season 1 to wanting to storm onto the set and carry him out myself like a baby - not unlike how I felt the first time I saw Carmy slapping the donut out of Marcus' hands. Cringe but ultimately minor transgressions in a charged environment wind up being the greater sin than full-on emotional abuse with the Berzattos.

I'm finding there's less to dissect in the second half of the episode - everything is more overt. Cicero is generous. (re: shielding Richie). Natalie and Carmy are emotionally spent from their Donna-duty.

The whole final Donna/Carmy kitchen scene brings up a lot of existential questions I ask myself as a cook about food being a mechanism of control. I love to gather and cook for people - but I also know I'm an anxious person who needs to control the narrative, and sometimes I want people to be somewhat beholden to me through the care I extend to them through food and entertaining. In doing this, I sometimes feel pushy, and know there is always a level of avoidance in hosting/caring for people.

But with Donna, and through that conduit, Carmy - food IS control. Food IS enmeshment. Food IS the forcing function for unruly togetherness (through the restaurant and grand celebrations in the Italian tradition).

I hope that Carmy, through his collaboration with Syd, carves out a healthier narrative of what caring for people through cooking and service means. I don't think he hates cooking, as others have postulated - I think he hates the enmeshment, I think he hates himself for feeling he needs to control people through food. I think he hates feeling forced to do it, because he can't function that highly outside of it. The sooner he can extricate himself from his past, the sooner I think he'll love creating food and sharing it again.

The Lee and Mikey jousting bit is essential to the dinner unravelling, but while it's immaculately acted, it's not really interesting to me since it's such an overt conflict. Poking the bear, fighting to be the patriarchal figure of the house, blah blah blah. It makes for great visuals, but it doesn't reveal any new depth beyond "men=fucked."

And the "cousin, you're scaring the normals" comment - I see no evidence that anyone who would willingly wander into this abattoir fits that description. The best part of the scene is when Lee says "throw another fork at me and you're going to get fucking rocked" and then there's just the pregnant pause, immaculately shot, with the old clock ticking in the background.

Lee's "You're nothing. You're nothing. You're nothing" harkens back to "You're bad at this. You are bullshit. You should be dead" - all of the Berzatto men are capable of being ground to a pulp by other men they perceive to be authorities in some form or another, and I think we're only just beginning to see in this season how women factor into the equation (those in charge and those who are seemingly powerless) after a lifetime ruled by Donna.

Donna, who enters the scene, and everything defers to the power she holds over everyone with her tempestuous illness.

Ha, I missed the line in Stevie's grace where he says "We're healthy, I think? No ones si....no ones physically very sick."

"Natalie Rose Berzatto...." God. If I had turned off subtitles, JLC's delivery in this scene would make anyone hear "Do you know how much I fucking hate you" - because that's what she meant. And God bless Michelle.

It seems like, the moment Carmy looks at the car and the cannoli, it's finally cemented in his mind that Mikey and Donna are intrinsically the same person (but the selective trauma memories he maintains after Mikey's death wipe out the bad, hence his surprise about him using etc). Ending with Natalie's A+ horror film face and the lyrics "Could you ever know how much I care?" was absolutely the right editorial tone to end the episode.

I'm going to be honest....I thought I'd find a lot more in this hour than I actually did.

I'm really looking forward to Bolognese onwards, mostly because I really miss Syd now - the show without her energy (mostly because Natalie still has inadequate development, through no fault of her own) is just male trauma from a male perspective....

#the bear fx #the bear season 2 #the bear spoilers #the bear #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto #syd x carmy #sydney adamu #richie jerimovich #claire the bear #mikey berzatto #donna berzatto #the bear s2 #carmy berzatto

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cc-cobalt-1043 · 4 months

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You're My Brother:

Sonic was sleeping peacefully in his racecar bed when he woke up to what sounded like muffled sobs coming from Tails' bed.

Frantically getting up Sonic quickly and as quietly as he could went over to his plane shaped bed.

In it the young fox was curled up in a ball his namesakes wrapped tightly around himself, his body shaking as the young fox sobbed.

Feeling his heart practically split in two Sonic gently rested his hand on the kit's shoulder.

"Tails, Tails." Sonic said softly trying to calm him.

This however had the opposite effect as Tails saw Sonic and gasped in shock hugging one of his Tails to his chest.

"S-Sonic, I-I didn't meant to wake you, I'm sor-." Tails mumbled still trembling violently.

"Woah bud, calm down, you've done nothing wrong." Sonic said in a soft voice that would have even surprised Robotnik.

Tails just whimpered and curled up on himself even more.

"Bad dream?" Sonic asked, already knowing the awnser.

Tails just nodded another sob escaping him.

"You wanna talk about?" Sonic asked, that usually worked for him anyway.

Tails simply shook his head, Sonic frowned and tried to think of something.

"Wanna grab a midnight snack?" Sonic asked.

Tails looked at Sonic pondering this, admittedly he was hungry, but didn't want to get in trouble.

"Are we allowed?" Tails asked.

"I won't tell if you won't." Sonic said winking at Tails.

Tails thought it over for a moment before nodding and getting up.

The two quietly snuck down into the kitchen and Tails sat down at the table, Sonic came over and put a glass of water on the table for him.

"What would you like to eat pal?" Sonic asked.

Tails shrugged.

"Not sure." He said.

"I know, you still haven't tried chilli dogs yet have you?" Sonic asked.

Tails shook his head.

"You're in for a treat buddy." Sonic said rubbing his hands together.

Sonic got up and went into the kitchen. After preparing the necessary items he got the chilli dogs cooking.

He then went and joined Tails, leading him over to the couch and sitting down next to him.

Sonic reached over and gently stroked Tails' bangs.

Tails teased slightly, but relaxed when he noticed it was Sonic.

This didn't go unnoticed by Sonic, but he didn't comment on it.

"You were there you know." Tails said softly.

"Where?" Sonic asked.

"My dream, the people from my old village, they took me away from you and the others...made me go back to my old village." Tails said shuddering.

"Hey, you aren't going anywhere bud, you're stuck with us for the long run." Sonic said.

Tails chuckled weakly and gave Sonic a small smile.

"Tails...granted I don't know the full extent of what those people did to you, but it was wrong, it never should happen to anyone, especially not someone as sweet as you." Sonic said.

Tails took a deep breath then spoke.

"The people in my village...they weren't nice, sometimes they'd pull on my tails, break my inventions, once they even threw me into a freezing river, they did...horrible things." Tails said, his tears beginning to renew themselves again.

Sonic pulled Tails into a hug.

"Well it won't happen here, mom, dad, me and Knuckles, we'll look after you." Sonic said.

"You promise?" Tails asked.

"I promise, you're my little brother Tails, and I love you bud." Sonic smiled gazing at the Fox lovingly.

Tails smiled and hugged Sonic tighter, even wrapping his tails around him.

They stayed like this until the timer announced the chilli dogs were ready.

Not wasting any time Sonic promptly brought them into the living room and handed a plate of them to Tails.

"They smell so good." Tails said, his mouth watering slightly.

"Go on, try one." Sonic said encouragingly.

Tails put one in his mouth and his eyes practically lit up.

"Wow, they're delicious." Tails spoke through a mouthful of food.

Sonic chuckled and the two ate their food in silence.

Soon they finished and Sonic put the plates in the kitchen.

They simply sat for a few minutes before Tails yawned sleepily, his eyes barely open.

"Sleepy bud?" Sonic asked.

Tails just mumbled incoherently and yawned again, rubbing his eyes.

"I'll take that as a yes, come on bud, time to go to bed." Sonic said.

Tails nodded, too tired to protest.

Sonic took Tails' hand and led him back up to their shared bedroom in the attic.

Sonic helped the extremely sleepy fox back into his bed and made sure the blanket was wrapped snugly around him.

"G'night Sonic." Tails yawned and almost immediately fell asleep the only sound in the room being his soft snores.

Sonic chuckled and watched him sleep for a moment brushing his bangs away from his face, he couldn't help but smile at the content look on Tails' face.

"Goodnight Tails, sweet dreams little bro." Sonic said smiling before heading over to his bed and getting in.

Sonic could now rest easy knowing his little brother was comfortable and happy.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic wachowski #miles tails prower #tails wachowski #tails needs a hug #he deserved better #Sonic is a good big bro #sonic and tails are brothers #they're brothers your honor

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coldshrugs · 3 months

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tiebreaker

pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau setting: modern AU rating: explicit - there are a few mature scenes near the end word count: 6.1k

It's strange to be home.

Stranger still to try to define where exactly home is now that Io has two. Two beds, two sets of friends, two time zones to keep up with… Home is supposed to be a place, or, if she allows the geography to have a softer edge, a series of places and the routines formed around them. The familiar haunts one returns to again and again, seeking the comfort of nostalgia.

Three months didn't feel that long while she lived them; the new place is nice, the people are great, and she loves her work. She calls it home when she is there.

But is it? Home used to hold her mother's voice, her siblings' laughter, her father's snoring. She can't go back to any of those things. 'Home' died six years ago, and Io has been trying to claw back some essence of it ever since.

There was only one thing she was sure she missed from this place, one person. But then she stood in the kitchen with the sunset light painting half the cabinets in late summer's orange, and one thing turned into everything. Puzzle pieces of scent and sight that make her long for more of them tomorrow and every day after—the pack of cigarettes on the already open window to their fire escape; the knowledge that she can hide away in the safety of her room, surrounded by all her favorite things, if the inevitable tide of her anxiety rises high enough to drown her; and especially the smell of Estinien—of both of them—burrowed bone-deep into every room.

But the apartment is not exactly as it was when she left. It's cleaner. The blankets on the couch are neatly folded. There are no dishes in the sink. Not a shred of old mail on the table by the door. The only object even slightly out of place is one of the red plastic chairs at the small table between the kitchen and living room, stolen from their former support group when they aged out.

It's almost uncanny, before she remembers he cleans when he's stressed…

Hm.

They haven't talked about the kiss.

They haven't talked about much of anything so far.

Not when Estinien picked her up from the airport. Not back in their apartment as they readied for Y'shotla’s birthday party. Not even when they stepped out of their rooms, facing each other in the mirrored doorways, and his eyes blew wide at the sight of her dressed in the simple sundress and sneakers.

"You, uh, look really nice," he'd said. Straight forward tone and broad shoulders drawn up to his full height. But he didn't say anything else, so maybe they're leaving it where it lies.

Io has learned to live with this contactless friction. An ever-present static at the boundary of what they mean to each other. Sometimes, the hum is so quiet that she swears she is over him. Then there are times like now, in the back of their Uber, when the unspoken question churns in the space between them, fuzzy and electric, and Io reminds herself that even a hum is noise.

She has to break the ice.

"How's work going? How are the kids this year?"

"It's alright. A ton of rebellious little shits in my classes this semester, especially this set of twins."

"Are you allowed to call them that?"

It takes them a moment to find their footing, but then they can't seem to stop—

"Only when I like them. How's it going with your roommates—what are their names again?"

"Hien and Yugiri. They're sweet. Fun to hang out with. They're tidiness sticklers though, so that's kind of killing me."

"Did you watch that show I said you'd like?"

"Did you remember to water my plants?"

—And on and on until she whispers:

"I miss you. You thought I wouldn't."

Silence again, besides the pop song quietly spilling from the speakers. The driver's eyes flash in the rearview mirror before they turn the volume up, like some sound-based privacy curtain, but that is where it ends. Estinien turns his gaze to the darkening skyline around them, lips drawn up at the corner facing her.

It's hard to be disappointed when simply sitting beside him again is a comfort.

Sure, they text daily, but there is no replacement for his deadpan cadence or playfully disgruntled tone. No emoji could substitute the curves of his smiles, from the small and shy ones he tries to hide (the kind he wears now, squeezing at her heart) to the wide ones that come with an open-mouth laugh—

Her thoughts spin to the kiss. Nervous and unfinished, broken too soon because their drunk friends apparently cannot resist throwing glass bottles at the call of "beer me!" That's why she didn't get to kiss him longer, not that it would matter in the long run.

Estinien doesn't do long distance.

He told Vic as much. He cared about Vic. They dated long enough for it to matter, but in the end, Vic moved hours away, and Estinien decided they should break things off. And despite what anyone says about how he might feel about her, she's stationed on the other side of the country for the next nine months.

But he kissed her back. Oh, the way he kissed her back…

She shoots him the occasional furtive glance while his attention is elsewhere, and god, he looks good. Loose, perfectly messy hair hangs past his shoulders and softens the more severe angles of his face. His t-shirt wrinkles against the line of his well-worn jeans. Hems she has long dreamed of running her hands under…

Io's thick swallow is loud in her ears (she hopes he didn't hear it, too), and her fingers twitch on the leather seat between them. That does make a sound. A little scratch.

Estinien slides his hand across the seat, and—the static sizzles and snaps—his fingers curl into hers. He doesn't look away from the window, but he squeezes.

Her heartbeat almost hurts. She squeezes back.

Another 10 minutes and they pull up to the usual watering hole, one of those extensions of home, Redbills.

He lets go as they climb out of the car on his side, deciding to shove both his hands into his pockets. Cool.

(He's still wearing that little smile as they walk inside.)

Now, this is a place that's frozen in time. Dim light punched through with neon, an out-of-place song being played too loud, ratty stools lining the bar, and well-kept pool tables dotting the back wall. And that's to say nothing of the people.

Her friends (the first set, the ones as close as family) are scattered around the bar. Lucia and Thancred are already locked in a game of pool, and there's real money on the corner of the table. G'raha carries two colorful cocktails to a standing table, where he and Urianger are chatting with Krile, on her tall barstool, of course. Aymeric is at the bar, laughing loudly with Leofard, and Leo's pouring a massive round of shots.

Estinien sways awkwardly on the spot before turning to Io. He jerks his head in Aymeric’s direction, letting her know where he'll be, before walking backward toward him. He's gone for now, then.

Yep, very cool.

Tataru (already flushed a deep shade of pink) gestures chaotically as she rambles to the birthday girl sitting at the end of the bar. Shtola is nodding along without looking, one arm thrown over the back of her metal stool tied with black and purple balloons speckled with glitter. Her other hand holds an e-reader and, holy shit, she is deeply engrossed in a book at her own party.

In fact, she only looks up when her glasses begin to slide down her nose, and that's when her pale eyes fall on Io. She is up in a flash. "You came!"

Shtola isn't one for lengthy displays. The hug is brief, but she wraps her arms tightly around Io and allows her to return it fully before pulling away.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it," Io says. They walk arm in arm towards her decorated seat, where Tataru's tipsy little squeak alerts everyone else to her arrival, and then the party begins.

The night happens in a rush. A round of shots as they sing happy birthday, followed by a round of beers on the house because Io is back in town. She isn't allowed to be a wallflower tonight, tugged from huddle to huddle to share stories of her new orchestra gig or listen to someone else's big news that happened to slip through the cracks of the group chat.

Despite the company and constant meandering around the room, his static prickles on the back of her neck. Estinien hovers in the margins. Much like his blind reach for her hand in the car, she doesn't need to see him to know he's around. It is a phantom sensation, some missing part of her that she swears she can move if only she tries hard enough.

A quick glance to the side and she finds him effortlessly. He leans against the wall, speaking with Ayms in hushed voices. Estinien's eyes cut a sharp path to her, too; Aymeric's gaze follows, and a deviously knowing smile spreads across his face. Io purses her lips politely and smiles back, lifting her hand to wave. Aymeric waves back as he leans to whisper something to Estinien, who shakes his head and takes a long swallow from his beer. His posture tenses.

He pushes off the wall and walks outside, placing his empty bottle on the bar as he goes.

"Hold that thought," Io says as she breaks away from Thancred. "Just grabbing some air."

He's even easier to find on the sidewalk. A lone figure with his shoulder pressed into the brick, head tilted skyward. He's facing the door, as if he's waiting for someone.

"What's wrong?" Io takes a cautious step toward him, fighting the pull to go to him immediately

He shrugs but doesn't look at her. His brows knot, and she can't name the look he wears. It's frustrating not knowing what he's feeling. Disappointment? Defeat? Finally, he asks, "We're just not going to talk about it?"

Oh.

"Estinien, you've been distant most of the day, except for a compliment and holding my hand in the car… I didn't think you wanted to talk about it."

And that makes him look. His head rolls in her direction, hair bunched against the wall and his stare burning through her. "Be serious. Of course I want to. I just… don't know how to start."

"Neither do I." Io inhales and lets the warm night air soothe her nerves. Here she fucking goes. "We kissed. Barely—"

"'Barely.'" The word leaves him in a little huff of incensed laughter. He shakes his head.

"—And it was wrong to leave that up in the air for so long, but I guess it's easier not to know? Maybe it's, I don't know, kinder to slip back into how we were before that. If that's what you want."

"Kinder? Fuck off." Compared to his previous interruption, his tone has cooled, and his expression softened. He's not actually mad. If anything, he seems confused that he's being asked what he wants, as if it's obvious. "Did you mean what you said that night I called you?"

She moves to his side, still careful, still slow. But it's for her own benefit now. What on earth is he talking about?

He asked to call her a couple of weeks ago, the first time that's happened since she's been away. They talked through the night, and there was something close about it, closer than usual. The end of the conversation is fuzzy. She only remembers waking up with her phone pressed to her cheek.

Her shoulder meets the wall, mirroring his lean from a foot away. "...What did I say?"

"You love me." He spits it out quickly and gives no further explanation.

But it doesn't need any, does it? It's a simple yes or no. And it's now that she realizes Alberic—and everyone else—was right: he needs her to go first. He can't move until she does.

"Yeah…" Io shifts her weight against the brick, dragging her gaze from the grime-covered sidewalk to his gray eyes shining softly in the night. He deserves that, because she loves him. "I meant it. But listen, I'm not expecting anything. My job alone makes me a walking deal-breaker so—"

A few people stumble out of the bar, cackling loudly, and they both look to make sure it's no one they know. Just a group of strangers, so their attention refocuses. Io takes another breath, but Estinien speaks first.

"Since you left, I only sit in your chair." The streetlight overhead harshes the shadows falling across his face, but it does not obscure the reddening tips of his ears. "It felt stupid at first. For a while, I pretended it wasn't a conscious thing. Just a convenient one; it's closer to the door or whatever. But it's a choice, I realize that now… I think I've been keeping myself from it since you wrote on them. At some point, I couldn't tell the difference. But that became a choice, too."

It trails off a bit as he loses his own thread, but Io isn't lost. No, it makes perfect sense. This is him explaining every moment passed between them in the half-decade they've shared.

"You're rambling." She tries not to laugh. It's not funny. It's just what he does; he doesn't know what to say, so he says more than he should, and the familiar habit fills her chest with a fluttering warmth. His gaze moves to her smile. "I mean, you don't have to stop. I like when you get going."

She marvels at the way his eyes roll, annoyed and amused all at once. How he tries to be just one plain thing but can't help being more than that.

"The point is, I only sit in your chair."

Estinien's hands leave his pockets. She thinks he might be reaching for his cigarettes. She could use one, too. But they shoot towards her instead, his fingers wrapping into the embroidered edges of her jacket. He holds her like that, thumbs tracing the fabric while his eyes dart across her face, softening by the second. They dilate to a ring of dark silver.

Io reminds herself to breathe.

He pulls her closer.

Closer than that.

"I love you. I don't know how long it's been, just that I do." And he waits, all quickened breath and pleading eyes silently asking her to say it again.

"I love you too."

His hands wind around her, shifting her across the final gap between them, chest to warm chest. When Io lifts her hands to his face, his heartbeat gives him away. Pressed close like this, she feels the echo of every agonizing thump. His darkened eyes flash to her lips.

He moves.

They are careful at first, almost precious about it. But careful gives way to something else, just like it started to three months ago on the fire escape. His softness grows urgent, the kind of thing that begs to become another, deeper kiss. Io waits for the shoe to drop, the glass to shatter, but it doesn't come. Estinien's hands travel to the small of her back, one moves under her jacket, fingers skimming between the straps tying the back of her dress, and there is no interruption this time.

Every thought, every dream she's had about this does not compare to the way his lips seem to drag hers with him as he pulls back. His breathless whisper falls into the space between them.

"Should we get out of here, just go home? I just want to be with you tonight."

Io nods against his forehead, maybe too eagerly, but his smile is worth it. "Yeah, um, just let me say bye to everyone first. I hate to bail, but the party isn't the only reason I'm here."

He releases her as a smug grin pulls new shadows across his face. When they re-enter together, Aymeric approaches from the bar.

"You two were gone for a while." His words are ripe with accusation. Io shifts her weight and pulls her jacket closed, hoping he doesn't notice how rumpled it is.

Estinien leans against the wall by the entrance, looking as casual as ever. "And we're leaving again. Are you meeting everyone for breakfast tomorrow?"

Aymeric balks, "First of all, it's brunch, not breakfast; we're drinking again. Second, yes, I'll be there."

"Then we'll see you there."

"Wait, why are you leaving?"

Io takes the opportunity to slip away and find Y'shtola, who is once again seated at the bar, talking to Leo over the largest fishbowl of sangria she's ever seen. It's half-empty.

She slides into the seat next to her. "Hey… please don't kill me."

Shtola squints in Io's direction with surprisingly clear eyes. There is a silent question in them.

"Can I be here for this?" Leo props an elbow on the bar as if that might bolster his chances.

"No," they say in unison, refusing to glance his way.

"Fine," he says, no worse for wear. "I'm taking five, I need to piss anyway."

Shtola takes a deep sip of her drink until he's in the back. "Let me guess: you've decided to leave your best friend's birthday in the loud, crowded bar when we've been here less than two hours? Io, don't think I didn't expect that."

Io might be offended if there were any malice in the words, but Y'shtola brought her fucking kindle. She's probably planning her own escape soon.

"I'm awful, I'm sorry—" She throws her gaze over her shoulder and Shtola's head turns too. Estinien is still waiting by the door with Aymeric, but he's focused intently on her. "—but there's been a development…"

Bubbles sputter in her drink and she comes away coughing. "Are you serious? Finally? Not the half-assed, 'this is a goodbye forever, I'm giving up on you' kiss?"

"Finally." Her grin is embarrassing, but if anyone knows how long she's held out for this moment, it's Shtola. "Like, no bullshit, for real. Feelings talk and all, so I… really need to go."

Shtola shakes her head, one hand waving Io off the barstool and towards the exit. "No, no, breaking the pattern of platonic codependency and making a new, probably worse pattern is the perfect birthday gift. For the love of god, text me and let me know what happens."

"See you tomorrow." Io squeezes in one more hug and snags a sip of her drink before all but running for the door.

She gives Aymeric a little wave and a smile before passing through the door with Estinien's hand on her back again. A car is already waiting, and after they clamber inside, he doesn't cease his contact. An arm as far around her as he can manage, his fingers grazing her neck, and he can't take his eyes off her.

It doesn't matter that this is all the drive will allow. Desire sparks along her skin, originating from his touch and simmering between them, silent but shameless. The ride feels like an eternity.

When they're finally outside their building, the car is barely out of view before Estinien kisses her again. He walks them backward to the alcove housing the locked glass doors and the keypad. She laughs against his lips as she struggles to reach the buttons. He moves them closer. The first attempt lights the unit in red.

They'll get locked out at this rate.

Io pulls free of his lips with a hummed whine so she can see what she's doing. He moves to her cheek instead, then her jaw… Another red try.

"Estinien," she breathes.

His throaty laugh vibrates against her skin. "You've got it."

Fuck it. If this doesn't work, they can break their necks on the fire escape. 7-9-1-3-5. It blinks green, and the locked doors click open.

They only waste a little time in the stairwell, a quick kiss every other landing or so, when one can't resist grabbing the other, softly passing laughter between mouths before running up the next flight. It doesn't feel real. It lasts all the way to their door.

They go inside, hand in hand, and this is when it sets in.

Sure, it's a bit too clean, but the only new thing here is them. They kick off their shoes and navigate the path to Estinien's room in the dark, carefully dodging jutting furniture corners and stepping over the edges of rugs as their eyes adjust to the lack of light. A strange muscle memory when the context of the journey is so different.

In his room, Io pulls the chain on his bedside lamp, flooding the space with soft, warm light. She knows his room; the scattered sports and music posters, his baseball trophies and metals, and the long unused skateboard. His bed sits in the center of the far wall, flanked by a table on each side; one holds the lamp she just turned on, and the other is where his keys, wallet, and phone usually go. She's had to grab them more than once as they rushed out of this place.

"Is that okay?" she asks.

He nods, pulling her in again, prying her jacket off. It falls to the floor in a crumpled heap as his hands trail back up her arms. One settles lightly against the back of her neck. She runs a shaking hand over his stomach until it rests on his chest.

He inhales, forehead falling to hers for the second time tonight. "I'm kind of nervous."

"Me too." She swallows, trying to keep her voice even. "It feels silly, right?"

"Yeah." Estinien's rumbled laugh sounds in the quiet. "The reason I shouldn't be is the reason I am."

Io pulls her head away, asking why with furrowed brows.

"Because it's you."

What steals her breath seems to give his confidence a second wind. He tugs a strap off her shoulder and presses a kiss to the freckled skin beneath, lips moving slowly, reverently, until her head tips back and her arms snake around his waist. He catches the hem of the dress, looking to Io briefly for approval, lifting it over her head after she nods.

He pauses, drinking in the sight of her standing in his most private space, wearing only her underwear, and for a second Io wonders if his drinks have caught up with him.

He pulls his own shirt off, ruffling his hair in the process. His skin catches the lamplight on one side and moonlight on the other. His beauty is uncomplicated, as direct as he is, but right now it threatens to overwhelm her. Io reaches for him, runs her hands across soft muscle and the small, knotted scar on his left shoulder.

She leans forward, brushing her lips over his, almost content to feel him breathing against them and nothing more. Almost. Estinien's knuckles skim her waist, ghost over the side of her breast, across her back, where his hold solidifies before tipping them onto the bed.

Each touch speaks the assurance they've never needed to voice—I'll take care of you, I'm the one who always takes care of you. This is not so different, not when they get down to it. Estinien drags his lips across her throat and that is just as intimate as his texts reminding her to take her anxiety medication; Io's hands slipping beneath his waistband are the same hands that spread his favorite blanket over him when he falls asleep on their couch. I made you coffee shares DNA with please kiss me again, and both are prerequisites to the soft grip of his hand under her chin, leading her mouth to his.

What's one more way to love each other?

Between needy touches and heated moans, they peel away the last of their layers. There is nothing else they can bare.

Estinien moves down her body, nose trailing against her skin, stopping along the way to place soft, searing kisses to places that certainly never existed before now. The tip of her collarbone, the underside of her breasts, the sensitive skin over her ribs, and she shivers as he brings each one to life in the soft heat of his mouth. His hands follow, creating a pattern of kiss and caress, and Io is never without some part of him in contact with her skin.

He settles between her legs, and she feels the hot rush of his breath, coming just that much faster as he anticipates the next action. Io can hardly bear to look at him—flushed cheek pressed against her thigh and his eyes growing darker when she bites her lip—but she cannot look away.

"You're so fucking beautiful." Estinien kisses her thigh, then whispers low in a voice Io doesn't recognize, "Do you want me to?"

His fingers trace a tantalizing pattern on her leg as he stares up at her, waiting for the answer.

How can she tell him what he's doing to her before he even begins? "Please" is the only word she can articulate as she runs a hand through his hair, gently urging him to go on. "Please."

He dips his head, and words don't matter. She couldn't form them if she tried. Her eyes squeeze shut as she falls against the pillow. There is only shapeless sound, her body tense and twisting, the combination of her slick heat and his mouth,

his mouth,

his mouth.

She's at the edge before she knows it, and the feel of his lips changes, lightens, as he pushes her over. He's smiling—pleased with himself, pleased at her reaction. It remains in place as he lifts himself and kisses his way back to her lips.

Estinien covers her, skin to skin, and Io pulls away from his lips just to look at him for a moment. His silver hair catching bits of the city lights through the window. The shine of her still worn on his lips. Io cups his cheek and sweeps her thumb across them, observing the way they yield for even this touch. His blush spreads to the tips of his ears, down his neck.

"I feel so stupid. You've been looking at me that way for years, and I…" The thought hangs between them: 'What if?' He shakes his head above her, his hair grazing her shoulders.

"Yeah," Io whispers. "But you've been looking at me too. I wasn't in a rush."

She smiles into the next kiss, feels his own spread against her lips. Of all the things they've done tonight, the things they will do, this is the one she wants to keep most. She lets it linger, lets him deepen it when he's ready, asking for more when his tongue slides over hers and he shifts between her thighs.

Io stifles a moan and presses her hands into his back. She needs him closer.

One more shift, and they gasp through a broken kiss. There is only a second of pause, a quick word to check in, then Estinien drives forward again. They find a rhythm. Io moves with him. His breathing grows ragged and shallow, his voice is a tight rasp as he curses or mutters her name into the crook of her neck.

He leans back, resting on his knees, lifting Io with him so she sits on his angled lap. "I wanna see you like this," he says in a shredded whisper. "I keep thinking about it."

It's easy to give him what he wants when he looks at her like this, when he asks for her like he needs her. Io works her hips against him while Estinein does his best to explore, to touch, but his focus shatters in a guttural rumble as he pulls free and guides their fall back to the bed.

There is breath to catch and mess to clean. They alternate trips to the bathroom, then settle into his bed in a yawning heap.

They stay close afterward, liking the way their limbs have tangled and the heaviness of his body relaxing against hers. Io runs her fingers through his hair, unwilling to stop touching him like this now that she has no reason to hold back, and relishes the soft breath washing over her chest. Estinien is still, besides the occasional lazy roll of his head, to kiss her where he can. From the opposite side of the bed, the lamp's glow brightens his edges, the sharp line of his jaw, his nose, and his lips gently pulled into the sweetest smile Io's ever seen him wear.

She could watch him like this forever.

The city doesn't slow around them. Flashes of sound and color leak into the dim room, painting the wall in shifting light that disappears between drowsy blinks. Io wonders how all those passersby in taxis and on the street can go on like before, unaware a faultline has moved under their feet. Don't they know? Didn't they feel it?

The quiet breaks abruptly.

"Io, I'm not,"—his rough voice wavers. He pauses. She can almost see him turning over the words in his mind—"very romantic, if I'm honest, but I could be good to you."

His head on her chest is the only thing keeping her in orbit.

"You've always been good to me. If you're asking me for something…"

"I'm asking."

"You just wanna hear me say it?" And she laughs at his sleepy little nod, heartsick at the way he looks up at her, pupils wide even with their desire temporarily quenched. He wants more than light. She gives it to him. She'd give him anything. "Then yeah, I want to be with you, if you're willing to deal with the distance."

"I don't mind the distance if it's with you." His eyes close, his breathing deepens. She holds him like that until sleep takes her, too.

Io wakes slowly. The room is still gray and dark, with the exception of a single line of early sunlight fighting its way through his blackout curtains. It falls across her side of the bed, a reminder that something exists beyond the bliss of being tucked into this specific set of sheets.

Estinien is already awake. His hand moves down her side, warm and soothing, and then makes the return journey upward, over and over, until she half-rolls to see his face.

"Hey," his voice is even more rough than usual, but it's sweeter, too. He lifts onto his arm, smiling down at her. His messy hair hangs in his eyes. Witnessing this side of him… it always felt so out of reach.

"Hi," she whispers back, adjusting the sheet so there's no barrier between them. "Why are you awake?"

His knuckles roll over her neck, up to her cheek. "Just wanted to look at you. You're all I can think about, and now you're here so… is that weird?"

Io shakes her head against his pillow. "I don't think it's weird. I think I'd do the same."

"Good." He leans in, but pauses before their lips meet. "Wouldn't stop me if it was."

He kisses her slowly, pulls her back flush to his chest so he can touch her. The urgency and nerves of last night are gone. His hands move, unhurried, over the twist of her body, more interested in coaxing little sounds of need from her while her voice still wears shades of sleep. When he fills her this time, his thrusts are soft, almost lazy. And when he's finished, Estinien tells her he loves her again.

She will never tire of hearing it.

They are late to brunch. It's a wonder they show up at all.

No comments when they stroll to the table hand in hand, or when Estinien throws his arm around Io's chair, and not even when she leans into him to rest her head against his cheek after the third mimosa. This is how it should've been all along. They were the only people blocking the way.

The day passes in patches of sunlight and bright laughter, that of their friends and, later on, just theirs. They walk their favorite paths and visit the places Io missed most. The park on the way to her former library job, the library itself, the bakery with specialty cupcakes, and the taco joint she's been craving. But he is a magnet for her hands and, in truth, the place she misses most is their apartment…

They make good use of the short time. No room is too sacred, no surface too precious, until they make it so. By the end of the weekend, they have a pretty good handle on what works. Estinien is a quick study; he remembers what makes her smile, what causes a gasp or a moan.

They learn other things too.

"Tell me something I don't know about you," Io requests on that final evening.

Estinien lies on his back, head angled toward the tv that drones quietly in front of them. He's not watching; his eyes are half closed and his hand tangles in her hair. It's the most focus he can spare right now.

"I thought it was called 'duck tape' for too long. Aymeric pulled me aside in freshman year. Embarrassing as fuck," he says. "Your turn."

Io commits to being a quiet observer, biting back the giggle in the back of her throat.

She lies across his waist with one arm folded under her chin. Her fingers skate over his torso, leaving little trails of puckered skin in their wake. She pockets every tiny reaction (the soft hitch in his breath at a touch near the lower rungs of his ribs, or barely audible sigh when she passes just below his navel), but these are the only interruptions to the otherwise steady rise and fall of his chest.

"I'm allergic to bee stings."

"What?"

"Yeah, I should've mentioned it before," she says. "You're my emergency contact, so you should know what might take me out."

He laughs, a full belly laugh that shakes both of them on the couch. The sound digs into the marrow of her bones. It can't replace the voices she misses, but she can make more space for him in the part of her heart that longs to hear them.

The quiet after his laughter is just as tender, both of them content with this simple closeness.

"I don't want you to go," he says after some time. "One more day."

"Estinien, my flight—"

"Fuck your flight." His drowsy smile is tempting. "Stay with me."

She says no by pressing her lips against the soft, fuzzy patch of skin beneath his navel, and his exhale barely restrains a shudder. Does she truly do this to him so easily?

"Stay," Estinien repeats.

"You know I can't." Io kisses him again, shifting her head, preparing to focus her attention a little lower…

A long exhale stutters out of him. "I know."

She tugs on the hem of his boxers and he lifts his hips to make it easier for her to move them down his thighs. Io bites her lip at the sight of him, his ready willingness to share himself with her, the way he wants her. She brushes her lips against his length.

"I can come back next month." She trades lips for tongue, adores the way his head rolls back against the sofa. "We'll talk every day, like we always do."

"Next month," he whispers as she takes him into her mouth. His voice strains. "Only nine more to go."

It's noon on Monday when they leave for the airport.

Estinien drives them. Io takes in the view from the passenger seat, branding the feel of his hand on her knee into her mind. And then the pressure of his arms around her when he pulls her back for another hug, the nervous blush when he kisses her openly at the gate. His straight-backed reassurance of "I love you. Come home soon."

Home can be a place, as simple as four walls, or the scent of minty body wash, the voices that soothe just by proximity, and it can be a shared bad habit. The picturesque scenes of a small and beautiful life. Home can be the boy you watch grow into a man, the friend you wait for until you don't care about the waiting, and the partner stoking butterflies or comfort with a look. Home isn't home the first time—it demands a return.

"I will. I'll be back before you know it. And I love you too."

Home requires memory.

#azia writes #io laithe #io/estinien #otwr au #my GOD i am so glad this is finished sdlkgjfd #i don't even have commentary i just love them #i love them in this setting. i love how committed they are to each other even when they think it's unrequited #bye

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soleilnomoon · 2 years

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hiii may i request cotton candy, frozen yogurt, lemondrop, donut hole, and cream puff with whipped cream and caramel as toppings? for law from one piece, tyia i love your works! 🫶

hello, hello ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა thank you for reading my work 💛💕and ty for your patience! i had a lot of fun with this one, bc i love seeing law suffer <3

2.1k, gn reader (no pronouns), nsfw, 18+, mdni; tiny bit of angst, there's fluff somewhere i promise, & smut. law is a lil needy & sees the light™ & reader likes to ignore their feelings abt things; feat. only one bed trope, oral (m receiving), mutual pining, all that good stuff. they're both stubborn af tbh.

despite not actually caring about the matter, despite feeling a little relieved that you came to him for help, he still manages to grit out, “please explain to me why any of this is my problem?”

if looks could kill, trafalgar law would’ve been six feet under since the moment he found you making coffee in the kitchen. you glance over your shoulder once, shoot him a look that tells him he should stop talking, like, right now, and continue to keep your back turned to him. you bravely ignore the inclination to go back and forth with him, and butter your toast quietly, hoping he’ll stop pestering you long enough to finish your breakfast.

“i could just set up a cot for you in the hallway and call it a day.” his suggestion is ludicrous, and he knows it; he simply wants to see your reaction, a deep-seated desire to see the crack in your facade finally resurface after many, many weeks. you’re quite good at that, at masking your emotions — possibly even better than him — but it’s a difficult task, one that you struggle with daily. there are moments when he is genuinely sweet — they’re rare, but they exist; and there are moments where you want to rip his head off and yell until your face turns red (and it won’t, not really).

a huff glides out of your mouth and you turn around to face him properly. “you will not,” you say confidently as he sits languidly in a chair, legs spread wide, as if he has all the time in the world to talk to you. “also stop trying to piss me off, i know what you’re doing. it won’t work.” you’re very certain about that, actually; you raise a brow at him, as if you’re daring him to contradict your statement. “we need the extra room, besides you barely sleep as is, you won’t miss your bed at all.” it’s really because law is particular about who occupies his space; and since the polar tang is housing some unexpected guests — castaways that needed safe harbor to the nearest island — you volunteer for them to use your room temporarily. which means you need somewhere to stay.

no one else has the audacity to volunteer to room with their captain, but you’re a little different than the rest, aren’t you? he enjoys your presence more than he lets on, likes hearing you talk about nonsensical things like dreams and desires, likes the way you’re easily riled up — and he doesn’t actively try to do it on purpose, not really, anyway. you boldly told the others that you’d just sleep in your captain’s room, since he barely uses the bed as is. the others shared looks with one another, ones where they tried to contain their i told you so expressions. you ignore that and the way your face heats up at their insolence and move some of your things into law’s room for the time being.

law holes up in his office for most of the day, going on his third day of not sleeping, and while he knows it’s not practical to stay up like that, he can’t help himself. eventually, fatigue does find him, grips him by the throat and hauls him over to his room — he doesn’t bother fighting it. freshly showered and too tired to care, he thought you’d be asleep by now, but you’re wide awake. it’s nearly impossible to fall asleep like this — law’s bed is big and wide, leaving you with more space than you know what to do with. it also smells like him. and even though you wish that the scent was unpleasant, you know it’s a fruitless endeavor, because he always smells good. so you sit up when you hear him open the door, mouth hanging open to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

for some reason, dealing with law during the day is vastly different than dealing with him at night. there’s more intimacy involved with the latter, since your crew mates are asleep or resting somewhere, leaving you to deal with law on your own. wordlessly, he climbs onto the bed with you, opting to lie on his side with his back facing you. despite how tired he is, he also can’t fall asleep just yet. he can tell you’re burning to say something slick, so he beats you to it.

“it’s really not a big deal,” he says with a yawn before rolling onto his back. “the bed’s big enough for both of us.” he closes his eyes, determined to use whatever remaining energy he has to will himself to sleep. your presence is overwhelming, though, a heat rippling underneath his skin, making him clench his jaw to dismiss those feelings — the ones where he wants to pull you on top of him and hold you close. your eyes never leave his face and instead of fight him on it, a sigh coasts out of your mouth — resigned, yet a bit hopeful.

he glances at you suddenly, startling you out of your thoughts; your heart racing as you swallow back your bravery and scoot back a bit. “w-what?” you ask, hands clutching one of the pillows in front of you — as if it can protect you from whatever he’s preparing to say next.

“you’re looking at me.”

you stare at him wide-eyed, pillow pressed firmly against your body; whatever argument you tried to build quickly shatters the moment his dark amber eyes sweep over you — taking in the thin shirt and shorts you’re wearing — and render your brain absolutely useless. so you blink and blink, hoping to scrape together some words that sound appropriate enough to say.

“they’re my eyes, am i not allowed to?”

you could kick yourself for your foolishness, but instead you toss the pillow at his face when you see that damn trademark smirk of his climb onto his lips. he doesn’t know what possesses him, but he laughs at your antics and, invigorated by your uncanny ability to bring out his playful side, pulls you close. with your chest pressed against his, you inhale deeply and regret it immediately — you’ll never be free of him at the rate you’re going.

“if all you want to do is look, then by all means,” his lips brush against yours as he says that, long limbs tangling with yours when you give in and finally let go. the last time you kissed him, it was in the heat of the moment, and you’d slapped him for it afterward — because you couldn’t handle any of the vulnerability involved. he’d laughed at your reaction, mostly because the slap was harmless, and he barely felt the sting and only laughed again when you ran away. law told himself back then that he’d just wait until you were ready before pouncing again.

this time, however, is different. very, very different.

your tongue flicks against his upper lip, soft enough to make him grab you by the back of your neck and drop heated kisses on your lips. you’re too flustered to function, but you’re cognizant enough to kiss him back, returning each of his heated kisses with needy ones of your own. tongue swirling hotly around his, you roll so you’re on top, teeth nipping his lip as you straddle him. you pull back to look at him, eyelids lowering as you roll your hips and grind down on his growing erection. his hands grip your hips tightly to halt your movements, and you smile down innocently at him.

“you…,” he grits out, breathes through his nostrils, and starts again, “if you like me, you can just say that, y’know.” it’s presumptuous, he knows, but he also knows that if he doesn’t back you into a corner properly, you’ll weasel away quickly. and he can’t have that — not now. an ache bubbles deep inside of you, making your skin feverish, so you buck your hips against his a few times. he stares at you darkly, a forbidden sort of hunger taking hold of his thoughts, and his large hands grab onto your ass firmly, a shudder coursing through you at the contact.

“shut the hell up,” you say in lieu of the confession he failed to drag out of you, “you’re talking way too much right now.” because talking means you’ll fall into a trap and you’re not equipped to fight him just yet. so, you wiggle out of his grasp and pull his underwear off. he props himself up to look at you, almost asking if you’re sure, but ultimately shutting up when you grab his stiff length and slowly drag your tongue along the tip. an involuntary hiss flies out of his mouth, but you’re too preoccupied with tasting him to notice. to say he’s dreamt of this moment would be an understatement; watching you talk, drink, and eat only fueled his fantasies late at night.

not religious by any means, he swears he’s having some sort of a spiritual awakening — or something close to it — when your plush lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue licking and swirling before you open your mouth more. he lets out a soft, “fuck” and strokes your hair as you take in more of his cock, bobbing up and down, tongue flat against his length. unlike you, when he’s pushed to this point, he can’t control himself or his movements. his hips jut forward and you gag a bit, tears prickling your eyes; you use your hands to stroke and twist around the rest of his length as you hollow your cheeks. your mouth is wet and hot, melting every bit of his resolve, and he understands that he’s placed himself in a predicament that he won’t be free of until you’re good and ready to let him go.

you pull his cock out of your mouth so you can breathe a bit, but you’re quick to suck on the thick head with vigor, enjoying the way his pre-cum drips onto your tongue. “you keep asking me to tell you how i feel,” you say at last, hand caressing his balls before your mouth nips at the skin playfully; his hips buck forward, and he bites down on his fist to stop himself from moaning your name. “but…” you take your time flicking your tongue against the length of his cock, slurping as you take him in your mouth again. “do you really need me to say it?” your uncanny ability to peel back his layers, should frighten him, but it doesn’t. he grabs onto your hair and you relax your jaw as he pushes his cock further into your mouth; you let him set his own pace this time, his hips roughly thrust his cock inside as he fucks your mouth.

in an attempt to ignore your own arousal, you focus instead on the way his cock hits the back of your throat, the force behind his movements making you sputter and choke. drool slides out of your mouth, saliva running down your chin — he thinks you’re beautiful like that, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, a dazed look in your round eyes. it gets to be a bit too much, a tightening sensation in the pit of his abdomen making him grip your hair harder, knuckles blanching from how tight he’s holding. he inhales sharply as his orgasm carelessly pulses through his body, rendering his body useless, despite the messy way he’s thrusting his hips. you take it, though, endure until he’s satisfied, his cum thick and hot in your mouth. his vision leaves him momentarily, blurring your face as you swallow and lick the remainder of his cum off his cock — dutiful, yet mischievous.

he lets go of your hair once your mouth is off him; you lick your lips and plop down onto the bed beside him. he stays silent for a while, unable to speak; fatigue accompanies his silence, and he runs his hand down his face before rolling over to nestle his head in the crook of your neck. you freeze but inevitably stroke the back of his head, eyes closing as his breathing settles. what he wants to tell you, is that even though he knows how you feel, he’d rather hear you say it instead; but that’s another argument for another day. for now, he’ll just enjoy the taste of sleep — and you’ll continue to lie to yourself, to tell yourself that you didn’t need this as much as he did, that saying certain things means bringing forth truths that you’re determined to keep buried no matter how desperately they want to come out.

#fic request #milestone event #500+ followers event #🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event🧁✨🍭#one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece smut #one piece fluff #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law smut #law x reader #law x y/n #law smut #law fluff #i love ruining law's life it is what it is

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snowbellewells · 8 months

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"Carolina Moon" update {Chapter Two}

Hello Friends! Here we are at last with the next chapter of my @cssns23 fic!! I sincerely never meant to keep everyone waiting so long; real life got really hectic there for a bit, and I had to focus on the job that pays the bills in the few hours that were left over! Anyway, I hope that you'll forgive me and enjoy this update. If it's any sort of consolation, it nearly doubles the length of the story so far...

Also, this story is now moving into M-rated territory. After talking with a few fandom friends and readers, this seems like the way to go to be on the safe side and let everyone know what they're reading upfront. I don't know that I find my love scenes half as spicy as others I've read, but there is one for sure in this chapter, and it will not be the last before all is said and done. I hope that doesn't turn anyone away from reading, but I would rather someone know before starting than be bothered by it after the fact.

**As always, thank you SO MUCH to @eastwesthomeisbest for this beautiful cover art to go along with the story, and to @xarandomdreamx for her thoughtful beta reading comments, suggestions, and encouragement.**

Can be read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Two: Secrets Beneath the Surface

By the time Killian got back home to the family home that afternoon, he could already hear their housekeeper Johanna scolding Ruby from the kitchen, as soon as he crossed the threshold. “Well, what else was you expectin’ Miss Sassy Britches, sashayin’ all over town the way you do? Didja think that would make you a lot of friends ‘mongst the other young ladies?”

Killian kicked off his shoes in the mud room, well aware that the older woman who had practically raised he and Ruby - more so than either of their parents had done - would turn on him next if he tracked up her clean floors. Making his way quietly along the well-worn path to the kitchen at the back of the house, he could practically hear his sister huff and sputter indignantly at Johanna’s rebuke and picture all too well the way she’d roll her eyes and pout, before grumpily going to Johanna’s side and taking up whatever chore the woman had no doubt bid her to help with before their little spat had begun.

It was a rhythm as old as Killian could remember, since almost the first afternoon Johanna Bishop had appeared in their kitchen - cooking, cleaning, puttering and tending to all the essential but seemingly unworthy, household chores his mother simply couldn’t be bothered with. If - as the Jones children had grown - those chores also came to include bandaging scraped knees, soothing hurt feelings, listening to whispered wishes, and cuddling and correcting where needed, well, that had fallen naturally under her purview as well. Even more so when the three children had become just two.

Stopping in the open doorway, Killian leaned against the jamb for a moment, trying to keep his chuckling to himself as he watched his tall, leggy sibling with brilliant red streaks running through her dark hair frowning in deep concentration next to the short, rather round Johanna, trying diligently to match the rosy-cheeked, twinkling-eyed matron’s deft and graceful speed at coring and slicing apples, and failing miserably. He must have made some involuntary noise, however, because both women looked up at him in surprise.

Johanna’s bright eyes smiled at him as her cheeks crinkled with the welcoming grin he could always look forward to, no matter how long he had been gone, whenever he returned. Ruby stuck her tongue out at him when he smirked at her efforts, arching an eyebrow as if to question what in the world she was trying to do.

“Oh? Think you can do better, do you?” she challenged, flipping a discarded peel his way, before Johanna hushed her, not about to have food flying on her watch, just before Mrs. Jones’ formal dinner was expected in the dining room; as formally as it had been expected every night for years.

They all quieted for a moment at that remembrance, none of them necessarily wanting to summon the lady of the house any sooner than necessary - though that feeling went unspoken. Johanna’s nimble fingers flew over her task, the knife flashing with ease, and Killian noticed that Ruby’s movements gained confidence as well the longer she worked at it.

Giving a bit of a playful bow in flirtatious chivalry, he greeted them with, “How can I help, Miss Johanna?” and his most charming grin.

“Oh Sugar,” she demurred, “you don’t need to do nothin’ but pull up a chair and tell me ‘bout your day. Things are almost ready in here.”

Pausing to put a hand on her hip, Ruby mock glared at him, before turning to the older woman in challenge. “And why are you always nagging me, and then turning around and acting just sweet as sugar to Killian? I suppose he’s your favorite now, too?”

Ruby’s question was largely put-on sass, that melted into an unconvinced, “Uh huh, sure,” when Johanna blithely assured her that “Sweetness is as sweetness does.” All the same, Killian could see the doubt underneath her churlishness, and the longing in his sister’s expression, not wanting this one person she depended on, no matter how much they snipe at each other, to dismiss her as everyone else did. Honestly, Killian thought to himself with a guilty pang, he had written her off and disregarded her many times himself over the years. He hadn’t done it to be cruel, more out of his own survival instincts and desire to avoid conflict. Where he had withdrawn into his own thoughts, focused on achieving goals, meeting the standards set for him, making up for what had been lost, even if he ran himself ragged in the attempt, Ruby had instead completely cut herself free from all boundaries and expectations, going wild, or at least appearing so to the untrained eye. The moment she had gotten the chance, she’d fled Storybrooke on the back of her boyfriend’s Harley - eloping and not returning to Storybrooke until she had seen her fill of everywhere else. She played at nonchalance - as if nothing bothered her or could even penetrate the perfectly painted-on armor their mother had taught her to apply so well long ago.

She hadn’t really been back home that long, but Killian found himself wanting to get to know Ruby all over again, to bridge the gap that had grown between them over the years while they each attempted to weather the hurt and neglect in their own ways. The simplest method for doing that seemed to be in joining the easy banter between Ruby and Johanna, so he waggled both eyebrows at her, both in playful challenge and as an annoyance to his ‘little’ sister, then he circled the island easily to pull Johanna into a side-hug and plant a smacking kiss on the older woman’s cheek before nettling Ruby with, “Hear that? I’m sweetness itself. Maybe you should try a little sweetness sometimes and see how far it gets you.”

Johanna’s softly weathered cheeks crinkled with well-worn laugh lines, even as she rolled her eyes and shooed him away - but not before he snatched a sugar and cinnamon-dusted slice of apple from the pie crust she was crimping, causing Ruby’s eyes to narrow at him further in playful indignation. “You just hush now with all that, Killian Jones,” their housekeeper scolded. “Your sister has more than enough sweetness to share when she takes the notion - you just don’t give her any more reasons to be sour.” And though the woman who had been with their family for as long as Killian could remember, imbuing their kitchen with a warmth and comfort that the rest of the pristine, stately old home notably lacked, was warning him with her words, she also winked at him slyly - letting him know that she was glad he’d joined their fun, and that she was still nettling Ruby a bit herself.

Shaking out her mane of dark hair with a dramatic flounce, and planting her red-lacquer nailed hands on her hips, Ruby fixed them both with a fiery look. “Just the two of you know, plenty of people find me a delight to be around. Maybe I should take myself off somewhere I’m appreciated.” Turning on her heel with all the precision and purpose of a high fashion runway model rather than the demure Southern debutante their mother had hoped for, she stalked toward the doorway which led from the kitchen back into the hall, only to turn around before she left with a retort on her tongue when Johanna called after her.

“You tell that nice Dr. Hunter hello for me, Ruby Jean. You should bring him round here for a nice, home cooked meal sometime. That sweet young man needs a little meat on his bones.”

“But - I didn’t - why do you think- ?” Ruby spluttered indignantly, never finishing any of the attempted comebacks and finally just snapping her mouth closed and shaking her head with vigorous agitation.

Killian would have been laughing at her plight if he hadn’t been so wide-eyed and flummoxed himself by their housekeeper’s words. Oh, he’d known alright that his best friend since grade school had been nursing a painfully awkward silent crush on his remaining sibling, pretty much since puberty. What he’d never realized or noticed as Ruby had chewed up and spit out a first husband and teased and strung along countless other men since, was that maybe she was aware of Graham’s feelings - possibly even returned them.

“And you,” she turned from squinting at Johanna as if sizing her up to point an accusing finger at Killian, “don’t just think you can come in here and take over the one room in this place where I can actually breathe, just because you’re the family’s perfect prince and entitled to whatever you want.”

Killian jerked back at the sharp edge to her voice until he looked for a moment at the tensed pain of her features behind the dangerously flashing brown eyes. She was hurting - aching, in fact - at the idea that her one ally in her own home might also turn to the heir, her big brother, as well.

He had always known she snapped and hissed partly out of pain; he felt it too. They all did. He missed Rose awfully - more than he would have ever imagined - but to have shared the womb with her? To have been joined with her from birth and then suddenly find her gone? He couldn’t imagine that. And maybe he hadn’t really wanted to see just how much turmoil hid beneath his sister’s vexing habit of picking fights and pretending he drove her crazy, or how much loneliness was painted over with her vivacious bombshell facade. At any rate, he didn’t pick an angle and fight back at her as he normally would have, instead he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, giving a slight dip of the chin and a tentative smile. “Aye, Ru… Well do I know you and Johanna are the undisputed queens of this domain. I only wanted to join you for a moment.”

She huffed as if not knowing quite what to make of his earnest admission, then with a shrug of her shoulders and one more toss of her head, she merely replied, “Whatever you say,” and was gone. But he hadn’t missed that small half smile tilting up one corner of her mouth, or the spark of hope in her eyes. Maybe they weren’t as far removed from each other as he had feared.

Johanna turned and tilted her head up to look at him knowingly before patting him on the cheek and affirming, “You’re a good boy, Killian. You always have been. And you’ve grown into a fine man. Just don’t you give up on that sassy sister of yours, you hear? She needs us more than she’d like to own. Much like Miss Emma, I’ll wager.”

Killian smiled at the older woman warmly before nodding in agreement and scoffing lightly at her uncanny prediction, knowing she had him there and he couldn’t even argue. “You’ve always seen a lot more than we realize, haven’t you?”

She was the one to wink knowingly at him this time. “You’d better believe it,” she retorted. “That’s part of my charm.”

Chuckling and shaking his head, Killian wasn’t about to challenge her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Not half an hour later, at Hunter Veterinary Clinic on the outskirts of town, Graham was closing up for the evening when he heard the bell on the door jangle, signaling someone’s arrival. He was puttering around in the back, making sure that the surgery was cleaned and sterilized for the following morning, and that the mother golden retriever and her unexpected litter of mixed breed pups he’d delivered in a tense, last minute c-section that afternoon were settled in the kennel area for the night, and he had been certain they (he and the dogs) were the only ones still there. He knew that Grace, his summer assistant while she was home from college, was normally careful to be sure the sign was off and the door closed and locked when she left, but maybe she’d forgotten something.

“I’m in back!” he called out distractedly, still running over his mental checklist of closing chores to accomplish as he awaited an answer. “But we’re closed for the evening. Is this an emergenc– “

The door from the waiting room and lobby swung open while he was still speaking, only to reveal a vision that made him choke on the end of his words and nearly swallow his own tongue as well. Graham knew he had flushed all over almost instantaneously at the sight before him, a sweat that was part embarrassment and part lustful attraction breaking out across his skin. His eyes were wide as he shook his head in stunned disbelief, drinking in the temptation of Ruby Jones posing seductively where she leaned against the doorframe and watched him knowingly.

When several silent moments had ticked by, the heat and tension in the room between them only climbing higher, Ruby finally quirked a dark, artfully sculpted brow and smirked at him, those full red lips glistening in a lure so effective Graham could think of nothing but grabbing her, pulling her close, and capturing them with his own until his need was sated. And she knew it too - she always had. Pushing off from the wall and slinking toward him purposefully on blood red kitten heels, she began to unknot the belt of the trench coat cinched at her waist as she fairly purred her response. “Well, you see, Doctor Hunter, it is an emergency. I’m burning up with fever - one only you can break.”

By then, she stood directly in front of him, where he had backed up against the stainless steel surgical table and was clenching and releasing his hands into tight fists, straining mightily to keep himself from grabbing her and clutching much too tightly. Ruby Jones was nothing if not untamed; a wild bird that ventured close, playfully allowing the observer to think he could hold her. But he knew she would flit off and leave him behind again if he made the wrong move. Instead, Graham watched her intently, muscle working in his jaw as her graceful fingers danced across his chest and shoulders, tracing over muscle and skin, inflaming him with her touch as she went. Tilting her head to one side, Ruby shamelessly licked her lip before grinning broadly. “What’s the matter, Hunter? Cat got your tongue?” She snorted at her own little joke. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Bringing her hands to the lapels of the coat she wore, now loosened and unbelted, Ruby parted the fabric on either side and allowed the garment to fall to the floor at their feet. Pleased amusement flooded her veins at Graham’s bulging eyes and gaping mouth. Completely bare beneath the thin jacket, she’d felt a thrill running through her since leaving the house in search of him, and the power sizzling along her nerve endings, where she usually felt as though she were careening out of control, was genuinely intoxicating.

Poor Graham couldn’t seem to move and managed only to hoarsely croak out, “Ruby, w-what are you…? Someone could… could walk in here and see… This is a place of business! You can’t just…” He swallowed hard, and her eyes tracked the reflexive movement of his Adam’s apple with ravenous intent.

“Are you sure about that, Doc?” she teased seductively, clicking the ‘c’ with her tongue exaggeratedly, despite his eyes already being glued to her lips - and every other part of her on display before him. Voice low and throaty, cajoling him to take what he very clearly wanted - what she wanted too - she added, “I’m pretty sure I can actually. I’m standing right here waiting. What are you going to do about it?”

His handsome face reflected his inner conflict for several long moments, and Ruby fought not to hold her breath in worried anticipation. She didn’t care that much if he accepted her offer, she tried to tell herself, but deep down she was well aware of how much of a lie that was. Brow furrowed, Graham struggled to resist her manfully, but it was a lost battle even before he began. He had never been able to deny her; they both knew it, and today would not be any different. At last, with a growl of mingled frustration and lust, he lurched forward, his dexterous, long-fingered hands gripped her hips and pulled them into his own roughly before practically devouring her mouth with an almost maddened groan of arousal.

Sinking into his clutches, Ruby thrilled at his loss of control, all synapses firing and the blood boiling in her arteries as he finally gave her exactly what she wanted. Clinging to his bicep to stay upright as her knees went weak, Ruby plunged her other hand into his hair, mussing the honey-coloured curls he’d never outgrown between her fingers and pulling them tightly in response to his ardent desire and how he was further igniting her own.

Desperate by then, Graham was long past caring who might have seen her walk in past closing, what small town rumors might get started, whether or not Ruby was simply using him again to have a little fun and forget the past that nipped at her heels, and how he knew it would chip away another small piece of his soul when they finished and she wouldn’t stay in his arms. Whirling to push her back against the exam table in the center of the room, earning him an enthusiastic moan from deep in Ruby’s throat, even muffled by his own lips over hers. Sweeping a hand over the cool, hard surface with reckless abandon, Graham cleared it to easily lift her onto the tabletop and soon had her spread out on it, frantically working to strip out of his lab coat and remove his shirt, even as her grasping hands fumbled for the button and zipper of of his pants to free him to her touch.

Writhing against him, Ruby grinned up at him wolfishly, her cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, every bit the goddess he’d never been able to deny a thing: the dessert from his sack lunch, the use of his first car, and every inch of his body and corner of his heart. She wrapped her long legs around his trim hips, demandingly pulling him closer still, before he thrust forward and finally sunk into her willing body, welcomed home once more.

Leaning over her as he moved, Graham captured her nipple between his teeth, his scruff abrading the sensitive skin around it as he did and stealing her breath when he bit down just at the edge of too much. He captured both her hands, twining their fingers together and pressing them to the steel surface on either side of her head. Setting the rhythm they both craved, feeling the rightness of what he had missed echoing through his body as they moved together, Graham forced himself to take the moment he had; enjoy it, love her enough so that she would feel it, despite refusing to see what they could have always, and not let himself think of what came after.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Killian had just left the kitchen, still contemplating his relationship with his sister and the things Johanna had told him, when he was brought up short by the regal, silent appearance of his mother, Cora Jones, the once-belle of Storybrooke, in the hall nearby, studying him with an icy assessment which made him feel distinctly like she had heard all they had said and could read his mind beside. Forcing himself not to startle or recoil physically like some teenager caught sneaking out past curfew (he had actually never been caught at that in his youth, though by the time he’d had a license and places to run, the dangers parents fear for their children at night had long since struck and the damage been done) Killian gave his mother a nod of respectful deference, smiling at her carefully and waited, knowing there must be something she intended to say.

Cora’s bearing was still poised and correct, standing straight enough to appear taller than her actual height, her chin tilted rather haughtily. Even in the comfort of her own home, before no one but her eldest child, her skirt and jacket ensemble was impeccably tailored and she had not a hair out of place, her makeup flawless. Her eyes had lost none of their shrewdness as she moved nearer to her golden years. And Killian couldn’t help wondering with a blend of bitter sadness if she would allow anything about them to be golden or fulfilling. His mother retained all of the clout and reputation she had held in her prime, but her sharp edges had only grown harder and more jagged with the loss of, first her favored child, and then her husband, to his own grief and poor choices.

He was right of course. A moment later Cora’s clear, measured voice reached his ears with unmistakable authority; as always, she meant what she said and expected to be obeyed. Though his mother had never been especially warm or effusive, Killian had always known she was pleased with him, proud that he was living up to the Jones family name as she saw fit. Things he really had no power or control over - his natural good looks, athleticism, intellect, and so on - were only to be expected, and so, when he excelled in school, made the papers and the Homecoming court, and earned a college scholarship, or when the other mothers in her social circle all enviously wanted their daughters to catch his eye, well then Killian was merely behaving as he ought and garnering just the sort of attention she had hoped he would. He had grown up following in his father’s footsteps, learning all he could about running their small shipping business and how to manage all that would one day be his.

Killian had never rebelled or railed against the expectations, the assumption that he would blindly follow along on the path laid out for him, until recently. He had made several changes to modernize and streamline the business - almost two years ago now - and things had been tense between he and his mother as a result. Cora did not welcome change in any arena, not unless it was on her orders, and though she deeply resented her husband’s gradual decline and eventual abandonment at his death, she did not see why Killian needed to upgrade what had always worked well for Brennan. She had gone as far as threatening to withdraw her shares from the operation until Killian’s changes had doubled - then tripled - their profits, word of mouth bringing in a steady stream of new clients and renewed raves from established ones at their company’s efficiency and success. There was no arguing with such hard evidence, and so Cora had grudgingly relented, but she had not forgotten.

However, even at a glance, Killian could see that the bone she meant to pick with him would not be resolved with patience and time. He gritted his teeth against offering a harsh warning for her to save her breath. He knew before she spoke a word what she wanted to discuss, but this time she would find him every bit as unyielding as she was herself.

Without further preamble, Cora leveled her accusation. “You’re renting that cabin on the marsh to her, aren’t you? Despite what she’s done, and knowing how it would displease me, you’ve let that Swan girl waltz right back into our lives and invited her to make herself at home. I simply cannot understand it, Killian.” Her words were clipped out distinctly, but as cold and pointed as chips of ice. “Do you not remember what associating with the likes of her cost your sister? Or are you looking for a reason to spite me? I hardly think I have done anything to merit such hurtful defiance.”

She waited, seeming to have all the time in the world for her son’s reply, but Killian was still tempted to stare back, challenging her silently, waiting to speak until he discovered whether the pristine veneer she presented to her family right along with the rest of the world would crack and show some human feeling underneath. In the end though, Killian couldn’t hold out forever; she was still his mother, and despite his frustration, the manners she had pressed into him from birth would not allow it. Not only that, but he knew what she had suffered, the pain and loss she had endured - just as he had. It might have made her brittle and untouchable, but he always had the hope somehow that things might thaw between them yet.

With a sigh, he released the answer on a low breath, still meeting her eyes to let her know both his resolve and that he was hardly ashamed of his choices. “You clearly already know that I am, Mother. Though you might not believe this, it was not a decision made to hurt anyone - least of all you. Emma Swan is moving back into town. She needed a place to stay, and ours was available to rent. Honestly, I was glad to have it, to do something to help her out after how horribly we treated her years ago.”

He meant every word, but, as he had expected, her eyes widened with indignance, her voice finally losing its polished control. “What we did to her?!” Cora Jones spluttered, clearly appalled and faintly trembling in her righteous anger. “It was she who took our sweet angel from us. If we had kept Rose away from her… If she hadn’t crept out to meet that vagabond child…. Rose would still be here!”

Killian had heard this argument many times, yet the unfairness of it never ceased to stoke his own temper. Fighting to remain calm, he tried to reason with his mother, to speak in a tone that still remained civil - tightly wound as it was and on the knife’s edge of tipping over. “You know as well as I do that Ms. Swan is not Rose’s killer. There was never any chance of that. She was thirteen years old, still a child just like Rose, and Rose was her only friend in the world. She was as devastated as we were.”

Cora could not have appeared any more injured or insulted if he had drawn back his hand to strike her. “No one has suffered as we have,” she hissed, eyes flashing dangerously, “certainly not that little she-devil! How dare you even suggest it?” She took a seething step closer, appearing as taken by emotion as Killian had seen her through the smooth, proper mask in years. “You mark my words, Killian,” she continued distinctly, eyes boring into him like pinpricks through his skin, “you may have control of this family’s land, the business, all the executive decisions your father left to you as intended, but I do not condone you allowing that woman to live on our property. Not even for a second, do you hear me? There is something not right about her - always has been - and you will live to regret letting her back into our world. Rose must be rolling over in her grave at the very thought - “

Flinching away so abruptly that his mother’s words were cut off and they both stood, breathing harshly in the horrible silence, Killian finally shook his head sadly and broke eye contact. He turned to leave, at last seeing with regrettable finality that Cora Jones would never change her mind, not for anyone or anything, no matter how much time passed. At the door, he looked back at her, his eyes betraying the strange mix of pity and bitterness she had stirred up in him anew. “You’re the one who should feel regret. Rose was good and kind, the best of us all. It would break her heart to know you’ve spent all these years holding a grudge and nurturing hatred against the person she considered another sister. I am finally thinking about what Rose would have wanted. Then maybe we can all let her rest in peace.”

That final admonition voiced, Killian was out the door in the next instant, letting it slam behind him exactly as he had been reprimanded against all his life. Even as one part of him cringed, he also felt a thrill of petty satisfaction too, knowing it made Cora crazy for such noisy outward shows of temper and bad breeding to be on display. Hurrying down the wide front steps to his truck, Killian gripped his keys in hand tightly, not at all sure where he was going, only that any place seemed preferable at that moment.

His cell went off, just as he reached the driver’s side door. Fishing it out as he settled into his seat, Killian pulled the door closed behind him and answered to find Graham on the other end of the line. Too relieved to turn his energy to something - anything - else but the argument he had left behind, Killian didn’t dwell long on why Graham sounded out of breath, cagey, and awkward as he explained how he had planned to meet Emma at the end of the work day, take her to dinner, and then go with her out to the cabin and help her make sure she at least had enough unpacking done to settle in there for the night. It turned out something had come up, and would Killian mind going to meet Emma instead?

While a part of him wasn’t at all sure how fond Emma would be of the development, he couldn’t deny the way his insides leapt at the opportunity to see Emma Swan again and spend some more time with her. Especially if it kept him away from the lit powder keg his home had just become.

“Not sure how Emma’s going to feel about that,” Killian quipped to his buddy lightly, “but I’ll do it. I’m heading her way right now.”

Graham’s relieved thanks made Killian smile as they said goodbye, wondering vaguely what had his friend all tangled up in knots, but he couldn’t dwell on it long. What almost felt like happy anticipation was creeping up on him, and whatever else might be pressing on him, Killian was simply glad to have an excuse to be near Emma Swan.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Some three hours later, Killian’s arms and back ached from lifting heavy boxes and moving them around to various counters and display tables for unpacking, his cheeks ached from grinning and laughing like he hadn’t done in ages, and he knew his eyes must look a bit dazed, mesmerized in Emma’s presence as she breathed some sort of magic into the air around her and onto him, bringing the previously empty and nondescript space to life. She didn’t seem to keep much of the warmth and humor for herself, however, Killian noted painfully, but it was easily felt standing next to her, and his fingers itched to grasp her, to pull her in and hold her tight, give back to her some of the warmth he had felt since he’d walked into her new little shop - particularly welcome after the chill of his encounters with his own family just before he’d arrived.

Thankfully, Emma hadn’t seemed averse to his visit and offer of help, to be followed by dinner in his friend’s stead. She was possibly a little hesitant and uncertain of why he wanted to help out and spend time with her, but it did his conscience good to see that she seemed willing to at least see how the evening went.

After the initial bit of awkwardness upon his arrival, Killian had assured Emma that she should put him to work. Once she had done so, they’d had their hands full and the conversation had begun to flow between them. She was incredibly knowledgeable - not that Killian was surprised, she had always been smart and eager to learn, one of many things she and Rose had shared in common - but he’d never been able to hear her really speak unabashedly about something she loved. Not only did she have an engaging and eclectic collection of art and photography by several known artists, but she also had numerous pieces of her own photography available for purchase as well. When Emma began talking about how she had captured some of the shots, and what she hoped they conveyed, Killian simply couldn’t look away from her features that had come to life with enthusiasm, her eyes alight. It was enchanting; he could think of no other word for it. His lips curved upward irresistibly, without his really even noticing it until she paused, cocking her head curiously before asking, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Startling from the reverie he’d slipped into on the rise and fall of her words, Killian smiled back at her, shaking his head slowly in amazement. “Just marveling at you, honestly. You’re brilliant, Emma.”

“Hardly,” she retorted, making a dismissive noise and waving off his praise, though the pleased blush on her cheeks unmistakably belied her words.

“No, truly… You’ve got a real gift.”

Emma shrugged noncommittally, but didn’t argue with him further, instead she merely studied the photograph on the countertop in front of her, matted but still in need of framing. A wry, wistful tone slipped into her voice as she spoke then, more quietly than she had before, “Well, that’s at least one instance when my added sight is a pleasant benefit.”

Killian’s eyes widened, his attention even more fully captured than it had been, curious as to what she might say next. Emma rarely - if ever - offered to comment on her visions and the things she knew because of them voluntarily. He bit his lip to keep from speaking, from verbally nudging her to continue. Instead he watched, waiting hopefully, breath held, for her to do so if she chose.

Looking up, Emma caught his eyes, but the soul-searching expression pierced right through his chest. “It’s as if the person or animal or place in front of the camera tells me the story it wants to share.” Shaking her head helplessly after that admission, she chuckled at herself before adding, “Yeah, I know that sounds completely crazy.”

“Not at all, Swan,” he breathes, the nickname sliding from his lips naturally and without thought, neither of them reacting to it - almost as if he had never called her anything else. “It’s just like I said… amazing.”

For several minutes, no more words were spoken, the quiet stretching comfortably between them as the shadows of evening lengthened outside the big front window. It was nearly seven-thirty, well past time for dinner, and they both laughed when his stomach rumbled loudly, breaking the spell between them. “What say you, Swan? Time to find some sustenance?”

Eyes glimmering with a mysterious sort of humor, she hedged, “Would you be willing to take a rain check? It’s been a packed couple of days, and I’m hoping to open in a couple more. I’m exhausted, and really just need to make it an early night.”

Considering her words for a moment, Killian studied her before acquiescing, hoping she wasn’t putting him off when it felt like they’d gotten so much closer over the course of the evening. “Fair enough,” he assented before playfully adding, “but I’ll hold you to that rain check. Unless you’re afraid of finding me even more irresistible after a few libations.” He waggled his heavy dark brows at her devilishly until Emma was laughing out loud at his antics.

Only a few minutes later they were ready to go, Emma locking the door of her shop behind them and Killian following her gallantly to her VW. Turning to look up at him where they stood facing each other on the sidewalk, Emma added, “I really would be glad to go to dinner another time, Killian. It’s been a nice evening, and - to be blunt - I could use a few friends. Just so we’re clear that’s all it is.”

Killian felt a tightening in his chest at her proclamation, disappointment clenching in his gut and alerting him that he had already allowed himself to want so much more. “You’ve already decided that, have you?” he responded, fighting to keep his voice light.

She held his gaze, expression mournful, knowing, and more than a little haunted. “It’s for the best really. Trust me on that. You don’t want to get too close to me. Eventually, I’m too much for anyone to deal with. It gets messy. I’m just sparing us both a lot of hurt in the long run.”

He hummed low in his throat, the deep vibration of the sound almost physically palpable to her as he leaned closer, gauging her reaction with a knowing glimmer in his eye. “You say that now, Swan. And that’s fine, I can be incredibly patient. But I see that there could be so much more between us.”

“Do you indeed?” she queried in an equally teasing measure, his response allowing her to drop the wary seriousness she had spoken with before and banter back with him in return, almost irresistibly.

“Have a gander for yourself if you doubt me,” he offered, holding her gaze, an open expression seeming to lay himself bare before her. “I am an open book to you… just as you are to me.”

Emma caught her breath, helpless but to stare back into his eyes as he asked. Guard down, walls lowered, there was a flash behind her eyes of bare limbs moving in unison, heavy pants of exertion, whispered endearments in a familiar timbre, and a shattered cry of completion in a voice sounding much like her own.

Blinking free and pulling away with a gasp, she knew what she’d seen, and flushed from the roots of her hair outward. “What was that?” she whispered, almost to herself, even as she knew exactly what she had witnessed. Never had she experienced such a glimpse of something so pleasurable it left her quivering with unquenched need.

“I think you know,” Killian replied with a roguish smirk, though his voice was gentle, almost hiding the slight hurt that swam in the crystal blue of his eyes at the distance she still tried to keep between them. “Possibly the dessert we could enjoy if you let a nice dinner for us progress to its natural conclusion?”

Nodding, she regained her equilibrium at last and reached out to pat him on the shoulder with a sort of playful camaraderie. “Hmm… well, maybe you’d better keep those thoughts to yourself for now,” she taunted. Still, as she settled into the driver’s seat and waved to him while backing away from the curb and pulling onto the street, Killian could see a deep and fragile longing behind her practical nonchalance. She wanted, just as he did; that closeness and heat and belonging, but she wouldn’t allow it for herself. She didn’t trust that anything good could last - and why would she, after all that she had survived already? Possibly she had waited so long to be loved, to feel wanted, that when it was placed before her, she denied what was being offered. While that might have worked for most, he wasn’t going to stay at a careful distance. Not when he could see the loneliness and yearning in her, as clearly as he could see it in his own mirror each morning. He would keep coming back, closer and closer each time, until maybe they could both find what they had been living without for so long.

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#cssns23 #cs au mc #cs ff #carolina moon #chapter two

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