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sleekervae · 7 months

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Past Lives [1.9]

Masterlist

A/N: Happy almost Friday, babies! And Happy Last Day of Summer but summer's still sticking around for now so. Also, I'm gonna start a tag list for this story so if you want to be added, just shoot me a message!

Warnings: tiny bit of angst, emotions, cardio

@richardslady121

Salt mingled in the cool morning breeze, drifting through the forest carrying the scent of the waters from the west. The relaxing psithurism soothed and excited Austin's mind, drawing unending waves of energy despite the early hour. As the crisp air swept over his face, he glanced around in awe at the path before them as if the babble of the creek to their right spoke amusing tales to the canopy of new green above. Lingering snow in the pockets of shadows patched the browns of the far off mountain peaks with bright white, allowing the fresh rock and new greenery to peak out. He paused on the path, leaning back ten degrees to view the scene through the lens of his camera. He twisted the focus ring to compensate for the wide landscape and clicked.

"Did you get a good shot?" Jade asked, voice as quiet and gentle as the rustling leaves over their heads. She didn't want to spook him in his element.

She stood behind him, puffing softly under her breath because she didn't want to let on that she didn't do as much cardio as she should've. When Austin had asked if she wanted to come hiking, she was skeptical at first. But it was a good excuse to spend time together, get out into nature a little more and what not. She peaked over his shoulder as he let her preview the photo of the landscape.

"I think so," he glanced at her, watching her study the picture with considerate interest, "What do you think?"

She smiled at him, "Beautiful,"

He couldn't help but flicker over her appearance; liking how she glowed in February sun. He could pick off the fatigue peaking through her expression, her brows knitted together as she focused on the picture, on trying to master the terrain around her. How despite how tired he could tell she was, she was determined to conquer the lake hike with him.

"What?" Jade chuckled, her puffing dwindling down now, "I got some dirt on my face?"

Austin shook his head, an amused smile gracing his face, "Just thinking..."

"Yeah?" she caught a sight of his dimples as he averted his gaze, "What about?"

"How you clearly don't hike enough," he teased back.

She rolled her eyes with a heavy exhale, adjusting the waistband of her shorts, "Am I that obvious?"

"You're doing great," he assured her, "A couple more miles,"

"He woke up and chose violence today," she muttered under her breath. Austin laughed as she spoke, "What else you gonna' take pics of?"

He shrugged, "Whatever I find interesting,"

Austin fiddled with the settings of his camera, allowing Jade to go on and maybe get a little head start. Though his legs were longer, he did this way more, he would overtake her in no time. The wind rippled through her ponytail, soft tendrils of light caressed her olive skin. His heart slammed against his chest, he felt the urge to seize the moment. He lifted his camera to his eye and clicked quickly. The camera captured the full body shot of Jade on the trail. He zoomed in, trying to steady the excitement vibrating through his grip. His finger pulled the setting to take multiple shots, then pressed down on the shutter button. Rapid clicks sounded from the camera capturing the scene. He glanced at the result.

The colour was devastatingly breath taking. Austin couldn't bare to take his focus away. It was like staring into the brook: pale shades of river stone grey touched by flawless cerulean skies formed the backdrop for flecks of liquid amber and touches of new leaf green. As he clicked through the pictures, her dark lashes fell shut, the colours of her eyes deepen richly with every millisecond. The last few pictures were of her eyes completely closed, face luxuriously serene with pale pink lips barely parted.

Jade watched him from her spot, having heard the clicks go off in the distance. She decided not to call him out on it -- not yet, anyway. A small smile curled at her lips as she called out to him.

"You comin', Attenborough?" she startled him fro his reverie, "There's still another couple of miles! Or whatever that means!"

Austin shoved his camera back into his bag, "Yeah, yeah, I'm right behind you -- Little Miss Bossy,"

She smirked back, "I prefer Little Miss Naughty. You sure Callum didn't want to come?"

"Said he had a thing..."

Sure enough, Austin caught up to her but Jade did her best to keep up on the incline. Austin took shots along the way, focusing on the light playing in the trees, bouncing off the of streams, trying not to worm his way back to Jade too often. Oh sure, he had plenty of nature oriented pictures, with just as many as Jade to match the quota.

Soon enough -- and much to Jade's relief -- they reached the crest of the hike; before them the crystalline lake laid out.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph..." she huffed, exhaustion momentarily faded as she gazed at the tranquil beauty of the lake. She felt a sense of awe and humility, realizing the insignificance of her worries against the vastness of nature. She and Austin exchanged awestruck glances, fatigue momentarily forgotten in the face of such natural splendor.

She was glad she'd come along.

As she began to unpack her backpack, Austin forced himself to take a few superficial and thoughtless photos of the area, capturing its natural, still-life beauty.

"So?" he turned to her as he capped the camera lens, "Did I do good?"

Jade offered an unsure expression as she glanced between him, the lake, and the trail they emerged from. Her lips curled up as she continued to pull out part of their picnic.

"On the view or trying to kill me?" she chuckled.

"How about both?" he replied cockily.

Jade tossed a cold cut sandwich at him, he just caught it against his chest, "Sit down, I'm hungry,"

They sat on a dry log of driftwood, sandwiches, crackers and dried fruit between them. The aching burn in Jade's body dissipated soon enough and she could fully enjoy the moment, take in the scenery, relish in the silence, she and Austin just existed in a space that was privy to themselves.

She could recognize her codependency for Austin, she felt guilty because she was hurtling towards something she didn't feel she was ready for, nor did she feel she could give him fully what he needed from her. She got into this originally because she wanted to have some fun, blow off steam, reclaim her power. And maybe even experience what could have been in another universe.

They sat beside each other, the air was comfortably quiet, warm as they rested. Austin closed his eyes and listened to the gentle lapping of the water against the shore, a rhythm that matched the beating of her own heart. He knew if he looked at her, if he opened his mouth he might say something he shouldn't. Nevertheless, his left hand was sat next to hers on the driftwood, centimetres away from one another. He marvelled at her dark locks; seven months ago her hair was hanging just past her chin, a ponytail would've been impossible. Now it was just down to her shoulders. So much had happened in those seven months and still it felt like time between them was passing too quickly.

This was the intimacy they had always craved, so much silence intertwined with so much power, unspoken words climbing and clawing from her gut. Jade's heart sobbed. Too much. She loved him too much. And he wasn’t ready for that. It was way easier to hide her feelings behind excuses, fussing... silence. She was lying to herself, the silence was unbearable.

"Can I ask you something kinda weird?" she spoke suddenly.

Austin nodded, "I don't think much is off limits with us," he replied, "Shoot,"

"When I was on my... dare I call it a date -- what were you doing that night?" she asked, "Before I called you?"

Austin took a glance at her from his peripherals, the act of his chest rising and falling suddenly feeling heavy, "I was going through the script James had sent me. I have a table read in a couple weeks,"

"For the sci-fi movie?"

"Mmhm,"

She turned her gaze to him, visually tracing the line of his profile, "Suppose you have to keep that to yourself for a while?"

He raised a brow, "You're curious?"

"I'm always curious, and I wanna' support you," she nodded, "I like all your projects,"

He stifled a laugh, "All of them?"

She hesitated, "Okay -- I mean... 'Yoga Hosers' was kinda' weird," she shrugged, "But you make a cute fuckboy," she cringed the moment she'd said it. God, get yourself together, girl, "God -- wait, that sounds so stupid,"

Much to her relief though, Austin laughed, "It's okay. I had fun on that set -- despite the fact I died via bratwurst," he mused, turning his head to meet her gaze.

"Yeah, they lost me way before that," she admitted, fixated on the underlying sparkle in his dark eyes.

When he looked at her like that — and he did a lot — she felt like she was his whole universe. It was the look he would give to a significant other. She saw it whenever he talked about his mom. Jade always figured she was just doing some wishful thinking when he gave her that look.

"I think my favourite song is 'Roman Holiday'," he said suddenly, " -- From your discography,"

She visibly shuddered, no, there's no fucking way.

Nevertheless, she strived to keep her composure. Jade turned her eyes to the lake.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because it's beautiful, and you sound incredible," he shrugged, "And young love, foolishness and self reflection tend to go hand-in-hand... in-hand,"

She simpered quietly, "Did you know the term 'Roman Holiday' refers to when someone is happy that someone else is suffering?" she asked.

"I didn't, thought it was just a movie," he replied.

"In Roman times, obviously it referred to the bread and circuses era. There was so much death and barbarity but the spectators showed up time and time again to witness somebody get slashed to death. In today's standard, it refers to pleasure or advantage gained from the discomfort or suffering of others. I read a lot about it," she chuckled at the end.

"Were you the happy one or the suffering one?" he asked.

"Both," she sighed, "I don't know, I've been reflecting on my place in the world and what I've created. I'm gonna' thirty before I know it, and I don't know if I'm fighting for relevancy anymore so much that I'm fighting for my own peace of mind, now," she laughed again, nervously this time, "Sorry, that's a lot,"

"No, no, it's okay," Austin assured her, "If it means anything, I'm still dealing with all of that. I was scared for so long that I would turn thirty and fall into obscurity, not know myself as an adult. It was even scarier when I came back from Australia, I had such a skewed sense of who I was. It's why I'm always looking for things to keep me grounded,"

"And what's keeping you grounded these days?" she asked.

He paused momentarily, mulling it over, "This is one; just being in nature. Good music, talking to my dad maybe twice or three times a week. Cooking is a big one, I need to improve on that,"

Jade chuckled, "You're a good cook, Austin," she assured him.

"Not as good as you," he pointed out.

She tossed some hair behind her shoulder, "Well, it's an acquired skill," she mused, "Anything else?"

He sighed quietly, looking down at her, "I'm reading a lot more, helps to take me out of a heavy headspace. And I'm trying new hobbies,"

"Like what?"

"Pottery,"

She raised her eyebrows, "Really? When did you start doing pottery?" she asked.

"A couple weeks ago. I wanted to wait until I got better to show you," he admitted shyly.

"Like I'm a clay critic. I'm biased; I think everything you do is cool," she replied.

"I know," he nodded, smiling, "But I like impressing you,"

"You already do,"

"How?" his lips curled further, his expression curious.

Jade could feel her cheeks heating up, she broke away from his gaze, smiling bashfully, "How do you impress me?"

"Yeah,"

"Is this some sort of ego trip for you, or...?"

His laugh was music to her ears, "I just wanna' know what the coolest rockstar on the planet likes about me, is all," he replied.

Her smile faltered a little, "I liked you long before I was a rockstar, Austin, come on," she admitted, mulling over her next confession as her heart thudded heavily in her chest, "... I wrote you a song, actually. Before -- like... ten years ago,"

"Really?" he shifted his position on the log, looking down at her, "Did you... release it?"

"I did,"

"Which one?"

"... it was about swimming pools," was all she said, averting her eyes between his own and the dirt and rocks below their feet. Fear rippled through her like an icy chill, nevertheless she was anxious to see if he would get the hint. Austin wracked his brain, flipping through her song titles, lyrics, the little metaphors he'd read into and loved so much. And then it hit, the tidal wave realization, the memory washed over him, awe-struck and feeling utterly foolish.

"Roman Holiday?"

Her soft nod was his answer. What were the odds?

What were the odds of their whole relationship?

Jade wasn't sure if she should speak, if he should speak; what was she even supposed to say at this moment? But she never answered his question before.

"I've always been so impressed with your low key sense of humour, your natural charm paired with your clumsiness, how gentle you are even though you tower over almost everybody. And even back there -- you're clearly better at hiking but you slowed down to walk with me," she gave a shaky sigh, "And ten years ago, when we were younger and stupider, I wanted to do crazy shit like -- break into city property. Or smoke weed on the roof. And you indulged my bullshit, but you also reigned me in when I needed to be. I never listened to a lot of people, but I always listened you. I always wonder if my life could've turned out differently if I had kept you,"

The more he thought about it, the more it began to make sense. The clues and hints had always been staring him in the face, glistening through his ears whenever he listened to the song. Only then Austin clued in to just how highly she thought about him, how much she needed him. He wanted to go back through her first album to see if he could pick up any more clues.

Much to her chagrin, Jade thought she had made another mess.

"How come you never said anything?" he asked tentatively.

She scoffed, "What was I supposed to say, Austin? You fell in love with somebody else, it wasn't my place. Evidently it was my place to fuck up someone else's relationship --"

"Hey, don't do that," he urged, "Jade, you don't have to keep that burden on yourself,"

“I know, but I can't help it. And I deserved everything I got. I know my head is fucked up, and I talk too much and I do stupid things. I say dumb things and most times they don’t make sense and I shoot myself in the foot —”

“Don’t berate yourself like this," he cut her off swiftly, "You’re a sensitive young woman. Kind and smart and very private about your emotions, but you're so passionate. Of course I can’t understand what you've been through, but I want to,” he reached to cup her cheek with the palm of his hand, “I think I’ll learn to ask you how you feel. I can ask you more often, if you want me to. And I’ll keep nagging until you elaborate,” he laughed at that, even though her cheek felt wet, “How do you feel right now, Jade?”

She shook her head, debating whether to retreat into or away from him. Her mind was on high alert as it battled it out for what she wanted versus what was the right thing to do. Her words came out shaking, “I feel like myself,” she paused, " -- first time in two years... I owe that to you,"

Austin bit his lip at that. He had managed to show her even though he had desperately tried not to, when he thought he shouldn't. He feared his love for her intensifying lest she didn't reciprocate. But she was always thinking about him, his body, heart, writing about him then and now. She wanted to keep this relationship.

“What would you do if I asked you on a date?” he asked, terrified. It was worth a shot. If it went wrong, she would leave and both of them would nurse their broken hearts separately. But if it went right? It was a leap of faith.

She was stunned, at first unsure if she'd misheard him. Jade finally met his gaze again, “Do you... you wanna date me? Actually?” she asked, wide Bambi eyes shining in marvel, "Not just for sex, like actual go out on dates, be together, do couple shit -- like grocery shopping?"

All he did was nod.

As his silence prolonged, she took some space, old insecurities gnawing at her from within. Jade buried her face between her hands, a muffled groan escaping her. She never thought she would be here, still incredulous that this was reality. The paradigm shift between her disaster date -- disaster life, more like -- and being here was the most intense whiplash she had ever experienced. She was terrified, but she was happy.

It felt as though a massive weight lifted from Austin's chest, though he was still nervous as she hadn't given him a response, “I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you into stuff. We don’t have to do anything. I just need to have you close, in any way you’ll allow me,” he confessed, trying to reassure her.

Jade bit her lip and caught his hand in hers, looking for reassurance. She looked at her shoes, “You've had a lot more leeway with me than most people,” she popped her lips out of nerves, “I don’t know where this is going to lead us, specifically,” she took her time, toying with his fingers.

Austin brought their joined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of her palm, “I really like you. I really fucking care about you and I think you’re smart, beautiful, passionate and dedicated — all traits that I admire and respect and that I could fall for easily,” he explained, leaning his forehead against hers, “I just need to know where I’m standing with you,”

She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. His cologne and simply his skin always smelled so good. She remembered hiding her face in the crook of his neck during their last rendezvous. How he’d held her there, close, his hand cradling the back of her head. Domestic and blissful.

“I’m attracted to you. Mentally. Physically too. I've always been. I— I don’t know if you're ever going to love me, or if this would be suitable for both of us” she led his hand behind her back, around her waist, “Honestly, I uhm... I'm freaked out,”

“Mh. What is it that scares you?” he traced the shape of her spine under his finger.

“I’m needy. I'm impulsive, and I can't -- I won't be able to deal if you get hurt because of me,” she explained, breathing with difficulty.

He cupped her cheek, "You couldn't," he assured her, "You couldn't hurt me even if you tried,"

“And if this doesn’t work?” she doubted, tentative, “What if I’m too clingy, too needy, or we get too busy for each other?” her words faded, old insecurities, old trauma re-emerging to the surface.

His thumb rubbed against her cheek, “That’s when trust comes into play, Jade. You need to trust yourself, and trust me too,” his mouth came to hers, “Can you do that for me?”

She tried to chase his lips but he retracted, "Austin --"

"I don't want a no-strings thing anymore," he admitted, "And if that's too much for you to handle, then I understand,"

"It's not. I don’t want a one time thing with you,” she murmured, chasing his lips as he started leaning back, “I should've said something. Last time I was at your house, I should've,” she reminded him.

"I wish I had," he concluded, “I would have done stuff we weren’t ready for. That maybe even now we’re not ready for. I don't ever want you to feel like you're a burden or you're too much,” he slipped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him, “I don't know if I can promise that nothing's going to happen, or that either of us might not hurt, but I trust you. You're worth the try,”

Jade took a deep breath, fearing she may begin to cry as her throat ached. Austin had told her over and over how special she was, how she deserved love and forgiveness and kindness, it had only set in now she had started to believe him. He wouldn't have gone to all this effort if he wasn't serious. He took her up a mountain, for crying out loud.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked meekly, finally meeting his eyes.

He nodded with a smile.

He kissed her slowly, deliberately, cupping her cheeks and stopping with his nose pressed to hers, “Are you okay?”

She nodded her head, giving him Eskimo kisses in the process, “Yes,” she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Yes," she decided, "Yeah, I'll... I'll trust you. I want to try this,"

Austin nodded, despite her clear joy he could see the reservation, the fear peaking out. She was nervous, and he didn't blame her. She had been through hell and he empathized with her. It might speak poorly of him, but he was feeling a little selfish. He would show her, teach her that she could have something good, even if she felt she wasn't worth it. He would take good care of her.

"Really?"

"Really," she smiled, genuinely smiled, her dimples poked into her cheeks and her eyes regained their sparkle. She smiled that way just for him, and he felt his heart may burst in his chest.

"Okay," he kissed the small patch of skin behind her ear, holding her to his chest. Jade tucked her head under his chin, anticipation tingling at her fingers. Austin wanted her to trust him, trust herself, allow herself to be happy. And she knew she needed that just as much. She glanced around at the the landscape, the zero-point horizon, the rustling silence of the trees, the still lake and the tranquility. He managed to make everything feel good and she didn’t even know why.

It must be the Leo energy, she wondered. Perfectionist.

By the time they'd arrived back in the city, the sun was beginning to set. Pastel pinks were beginning to stain across the skies. Despite the ride back home, the ac blasting and the wind whipping through the open windows, Jade was still hot. Hot, sore -- and incredibly dirty. She took two steps into Austin's house before she kicked off her shoes, pushing fronds of loose hairs from her face as she's started for the backyard.

Austin hadn't noticed at first, his first instinct was the stick his head in the fridge for something to eat. Of course, his ears perked up when he heard his backdoor open. One bite of an apple in, he followed her, curious as she stood at the edge of his pool -- still in her hiking clothes.

"What're you doing?" he asked, voice muffled through his chew.

Jade glanced at him over her shoulder, smiling coyly, "Cooling down,"

And with that, she threw herself into the water.

Water splattered across the tile surface, rippling heavy as the refreshing cool enveloped her burning body. And it felt fucking fantastic.

Austin laughed from the doorway, striding over to the edge of the pool. He crouched down as she emerged, folding her arms on the tile as she stared up at him with starry eyes.

"Hi,"

"You cooled down?"

Adoration flooded her gaze, her lips curled into a satisfied smirk as she spoke, "Only from the hike,"

He cocked a brow, "Oh, is that all?"

"Mhm," she nodded, "I have an idea for our first date,"

"Do you?" his lips curled at her offer.

Jade bit your lip, trying to hold back a shy smile. Focus, "You joining me in the pool?"

Another bite from his apple; Austin averted his gaze from her to the pool's surface, and back again. His decision was a no brainer.

After all, it sounded like a fun first date...

#austin butler #austin x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfic #jade theodore #original story #original female character #elvis presley #elvis movie #elvis 2022 #imagine blog #film blog

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aviss · 1 year

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👀👀👀 long hair kink!! Please tell us more about that one? <3

Heh, that's one I go back occasionally to peck at when I'm in the mood. So, nothing really serious, to be honest, just some lightearted fun and banter.

This one is not about Iruka's lovely ponytail, instead Kakashi comes back after a year long mission with long hair and suddenly he's the hottest thing in the village.

Here's a little snippet:

"Gai?"

Kakashi's voice was very loud in the suddenly quiet mission room, and he fought the urge to squirm under the attention of so many people. He had just arrived from the hospital, where he had been deemed sound of body and mind after a very long mission, and the moment he had entered the room everyone had turned to stare at him, a heavy silence falling on the room. He knew there were a lot of people wanting to see him, and he wanted to see most of them, but having every single eye in the room fixed on him with that amount of intensity--something odd was going on.

"Yes, my Esteemed Rival?" Gai's voice was as loud as ever, and in comparison it made Kakashi's sound soft. It did nothing to divert everyone's attention, though.

"Was I mistakenly reported dead in my year-long mission?" Kakashi asked warily. If he had, then he was going to have a very pissed off chuunin to deal with in a minute.

"No, the success of your mission and your prompt return to us was never in question, my friend," Gai said with earnest sincerity.

"Ok. Then, was I supposed to have deflected, or sustained a horrifying injury that disfigured me, or had a sex change, or anything at all?" There had to be something, some reason why everyone was staring at him as if they had seen a ghost. Kakashi was used to some sort of attention; and he had expected it after almost a year away from the village. But this was ridiculous.

"No, Kakashi. There was nothing at all."

"Then why is everyone staring at me?" Kakashi hissed, not wanting to raise his voice and draw even more attention to himself. It didn't matter anyway; there was only one person in the entire room not staring, ogling, gaping, and more disturbing, leering at him.

#ask game #wip game #kakairu #my writing #my wips

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sea-owl · 2 years

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Here we go, the first part of the Peneleus Featherington AU. Feel free to send in asks or requests about this au too if you want. Reading your guy's thoughts really helps get the creativity flowing.

"Your wife has birthed a baby girl my lord," the midwife announced, letting him into the room.

Lord Archibald Featherington could only sigh. His third daughter, and if the doctors were right about Portia being unlikely to conceive again, his last child. What were they going to do? The Featherington estate could not be allowed to fall from his family's hands.

"Leave us," Archibald ordered.

Portia's grip tightened on her daughter, though her face did not show anything but a fondness for the new baby. "I was thinking we call her Penelope, after the queen of Ithaca. She was such a clever woman in that story. Maybe our little one will be just as clever."

Archibald did not say anything. Portia was always reading stories of myth, particularly of greek and roman descent.

Porita held her little Penelope closer. "Or how about the name Peneleus. He was one of the generals who fought in Troy." She's been sitting on this idea for a while, her backup should her baby be another girl.

Archibald finally speaks. "Portia we needed a son. I needed an heir, not another daughter."

"And we shall raise a son," Portia shoots back. "If the doctors are right and I cannot conceive again, then make Penelope your heir."

"A daughter cannot become a lord."

"No one knows we had a daughter."

Archibald pauses. It is not an unheard-of thing, though it has been decades since anyone attempted to do this. The last to do so though had been caught and the family forced to give up everything. For their sake Penelope better be as clever as the woman she was named after.

"If the baby makes it to her first birthday and you do not bare a son then she will be named my heir."

When Penelope turned one, she became a son named Peneleus, and her father's heir. Then when she turned eighteen, after the death of her father she became the new Lord Featherington.

Searing kisses, and hungry touches. The taste of alcohol on both of their lips, but neither of them cared. All they wanted was each other naked and by all that was holy they were going after it.

Finally, finally. Mine, mine, finally mine, he chanted in his thoughts. One hand reaching up to take her hair out of its ponytail, while the other explores between her legs.

"C-Colin," she gasped as he began to suck marks on her bosom.

"Oh Pen," he breathed out, the urge to chant her name like a prayer was ready to burst from his lips.

Colin Bridgerton shot up from his sleep on the drawing room couch. Cheeks hot from the dream he just had. That damn dream that's been plaguing him for a month. Every time he had it, he felt so guilty after. To imagine his friend in such a way. God if Pen knew Colin was transforming him into a woman in his dreams, he's sure he get his ass kicked. And Colin wouldn't even try to stop him.

He needs to take a walk, clear his thoughts of Pen-

"Colin! I see you are back from your visit to Scotland. How is Francesca?"

Speak of the devil.

Lord Peneleus Featherington, a longtime family friend, and an honorary Bridgerton, stood in the doorway. He was on the shorter end with a rounder build, but he was soft in a way that Colin associated with women. Red curls tied back into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, and brown eyes that always seem to see everything around him. He has remained unmarried even at twenty-eight, though not for the lack of trying of most debutantes. His way with words, and kind smiles has made him quite popular among the ladies of the ton.

"Peneleus," Colin greeted. "Francesca is doing well, though don't tell Anthony but she might have a new gentleman."

Peneleus smiled. "She has found love again? How wonderful. I remember Eloise telling me how upset she had been when the Earl of Kilmartin had passed."

"Yes, it really is." Colin has to stop staring at his friend's mouth. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm actually here to discuss business with Viscount Bridgerton. I am leaving for my cousin in-law's home, Romney Hall, in a few days and there a few investments I want to be kept up to date on. Your brother has also put money into those investments and has agreed to keep me informed."

"Look at you finally traveling," Colin teased. "I'm going to have to learn your cousin in-laws secrets. Seeing as you rejected me all those years ago."

Pen shot Colin a small smile. "You know I had new responsibilities then. I could not leave my poor sisters with just my mama to help them make a match."

Colin chuckled. Even though Pen was a boy he was not spared from Portia Featherington's horrible fashion choices.

"Besides, Phillip is the only one who can help me with this predicament I have found myself in."

Colin looked at Pen, studying his face. It had gotten paler since the last time they saw one another. Peneleus also looked exhausted, and dare Colin say it, terrified.

"Pen are you okay?"

Was it Colin's imagination or did Peneleus cradle a hand to his stomach?

"I will be in a few months."

#peneleus au #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #polin #bridgerton #it took me forever to decide how i wanted the second scene to go #i kept trying to put it in penelope's pov #but colin demanded attention

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darkpoisonouslove · 2 years

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1x02 - Welcome to Magic

A Winx Club Rewrite Snippet

Okay, now I did actually finish writing episode 2 and managed to cut more than 3k words from the original length from back when I first finished this chapter and I actually made it more functional so yay for that! It's still more than 14k words, though, so there's plenty to read. Here's a teaser for Winx' first fight against the Trix from Tecna's PoV:

“Get behind me,” Tecna ordered, summoning her firewall shield to cover them not just from physical attacks, but from psychic magic prying into their strengths and weaknesses. “We charge as a unit. Gather data first before you act. We won’t help Bloom if we’re taken down.”

“Right,” the others agreed and she led them through the fake wall in front of them.

The illusion stretched over the green of her firewall and tore at the ends. The stone gray of the concrete fell away to an explosion of sparks.

The charge blasted her shield slamming her into the other girls behind her. Her wings quivered with the urge to unfold despite the proximity of the bodies around her.

She fought it. Hands on her shoulders helped her push against the momentum and she regained her footing.

The crackle of electricity died down. She could hear her own panting alongside that of the other fairies. The green tinge of her shield warped the image of the three witches across from her but the aura of negative energy around them filled the alleyway unambiguously.

The white-haired witch with the high ponytail launched a barrage of icicles their way that had Tecna’s boots sliding across the pavement despite the arms holding her in place.

The air pressure dropped as the witch with the curly purple hair twirled around, her magic stirring the air.

Stella’s voice barely registered next to Tecna before her shield budged. The scepter in Stella’s hands forced it up just in time to cover them from the small tornado beating down on them.

A wave of warmth made sweat beads roll down Tecna’s forehead and into her eyes faster than pushing back against the raging wind did. Her hands shook equal parts from exertion and relief that Stella’s light was hot enough to keep the ice attacks off of them. At least for the time being.

Her own energy was draining much faster than she’d accounted for. If she could spot Bloom or even Kiko, she could start on an exit strategy. If she knew what the rest of her teammates could do-

The push against her lessened as a wall of massive green stalks formed a half circle around their group and propped up her shield. The backside was open to allow for an escape while the winds and icicles clashed with the thick stems.

“It won’t hold forever,” Flora warned as frost crept between the stalks and wrapped them slowly but securely. “Has anyone seen Bloom?”

“They’re pulling their punches,” Tecna had to force her voice through the wailing wind but not all the way to the witches. “The velocity of that tornado isn’t at a peak currently. I suspect it would be able to uproot your plants but she’s holding back. They don’t want to draw attention.”

“Then we know their weak link.”

Musa was in the air before Tecna could open her mouth. Stella covered her from the cold wafting off in waves from the white-haired witch and Musa launched an attack at the brunette one that had done nothing but observe so far.

The vibrations shook the ground around the witch and her hands clamped over her ears. Her gritted teeth unclenched only for her to bite them back together. Then repeat. Then again. And again.

Tecna shouted out for Musa but the darkness seized the fairy.

Light burst out from Stella to reveal Musa again. She had crashed to the ground, nothing but blackness in her eyes. The looped illusion meant to exhaust less power fell away for them to see the brunette witch was unaffected by their magic.

The purple glow in her eyes was soon mirrored in Stella’s after she made a single step away from the protection of Tecna’s firewall and she turned on Tecna and Flora like a doll on strings. She rose her scepter mechanically and fired a charge of light at them. It hit Tecna in the shoulder to make her arm drop and her shield crumble above her head. The attack had been weak but the brunette witch had all the time in the world to figure out how to channel Stella’s powers.

Tecna jumped back from the lightning that struck an inch from her foot and her back hit the wall of stalks. She huddled into it to make herself a smaller target but the next lightning struck on Stella’s other side blocking Flora’s way to her. They were trying to separate the princess and under the hypnosis, she headed straight for the witches.

Flora beckoned one of the green stalks to move and wrap Stella to pull her back behind their barricade.

Tecna scrambled to her feet only for the darkness of the night to loom over her and worm its way up her nerves. It clutched at her brain to make her vision swim as she keeled over. The collision with the ground echoed like a whisper in her bones.

#winx club #winx tecna #winx stella #winx flora #winx musa #winx icy #winx stormy #winx darcy #trix #wc rewrite #excerpt #fanfic snippet #snippet

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nemo-in-wonderland · 2 years

Text

(as usual, click on the picture for a better resolution)

Hello hello there!

I´m still here!

I spent the last few days watching "Treasure Planet" on row, listening on repeat to the soundtrack, and this gave me the urge to finish this old artwork I had started after the Portrait of Jim Hawkins I did a while back.

This was me taking my Dorothea with Jacob and pushing them into the world of Treasure Planet, with them exploring the universe on board those Solar Galleons. I just imagined Dorothea as the Lieutenant and the cartographer, with Jacob in the role of the boatswain (because he would so be flying around those shrouds), both serving under Captain Byron Harrison. (this is also the reason why, despite Dorothea being the clear counterpart of Captain Amelia, she is not Captain herself, and doesn't sport the blue. She is Byron's First Officer, so her garments mirror those of First Officer Richard Arrows in the movie).

As for Jacob, his outfits is not very "piratesque" or marinaresque because I tried my best to fuse Jim Hawkin's clothes with Jacob's regular ones, with him sporting the Rooks' colours (because of course, he would be sporting them). Also, I tried to give him the same rattail Jim sports, but it didn't convince me that much. HOWEVER, I couldn't pass the opportunity to draw Jacob with slightly longer hair, hence the small ponytail he is sporting.

Also, good gods, Jacob, finish dress yourself up before going out of that freaking cabin. Anorous congress or not, dress yourself UP!😂

I had fun with this piece, but I didn't have enough strength to completely render it. But overall I like how it turned out.

Hope you will like this too.

Take care and stay safe everyone.

--Nemo

(I have other sketches for this "AU", but eh, we will see if I will manage to ever finish them).

#Assassin's Creed #Assassin's Creed Syndicate #Jacob Frye #Treasure Planet #disney movies #crossover #Dorothea Starrick #JacobxDorothea #Jottie #my oc #nemo sketches #my art #ocfairygodmother #ocappreciation

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Text

Researching...

ZETA

You need to see this first then this

The alchemist had been trying all remedies to shake off the stress and fatigue in his system and they all seemed to fail, no amount of sketching or discoveries can pull him away from it. So when you offered a solution he hasn’t heard, he’d jump at it immediately. “You know, some people say having intercourse with someone is a good stress-reliever.” “Intercourse? If it’s true, then please, I wish to have intercourse with you.” “Wha- wait Albedo, do you not know what that is? It’s only done between lovers!” “Convenient, I love you, anything else?”

Pairing -> Albedo x Female Reader

Word Count -> 2944

Themes -> Smut, PwP, PwF, Woohoo, the "thing", the "do"

Series -> #Bonafide Specials (100 followers event)

Warnings -> NSFW CONTENT, DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE UNDERAGED! (this is awkward because you two have no experience, jsyk)

(Z,E)-9,12-tetradecadienyl acetate (TDA, also known as ZETA) are usually emitted by females to attract males for mating. Sex pheromones are defined as odors, produced by either males or females that stimulate one or more behavioral reactions in the opposite sex, bringing the males and females together for the purpose of mating.

The foldered papers at the mahogany desk met with a soft plop at its weight, and you noticed the Alchemist suddenly straighten his back from his spaced out daze on the noise, whipping his head towards where you stand. Albedo's teal eyes were wide from the sudden intrusion, but his eyelids drooped over them once again upon the realization that it was just you who entered as it loses its light once more. This worried you.

The Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius has been in a dilemma recently. And all of Mond knows of this.

Albedo naturally holds himself in a regal and composed aura that draws people to him in admiration and trance. But this Albedo lacks such gait, with shoulders tense and eyebrows furrowed, steps heavy and head hanging low.

He has hit a wall in his never-ending research. And the effect was obvious on him.

Days he'd be cooped up in his laboratory staring at nothing, glaring at his setup. Days he'd be gone beyond the walls with his easel and sketchbook, only to return with unfinished artworks meant to be forgotten. Sucrose had tried placing experiments that are easy to handle and give him at least a sense of self-confidence for solving, but even that cannot pull his mind away from his obstacle.

"You know," leaning on the table with arms crossed, you watched the Kreideprinz drag his foot to where you were, aiming to check on the folder that you just submitted, "Some people say having intercourse with someone is a good stress-reliever." Such words smoothly flowed out of your mouth despite the masked embarrassment you expertly hid through a haughty smirk.

That someone was Kaeya, and that Kaeya threw out that same comment next to you when you two saw Albedo walk through the headquarter's halls like a zombie a few days ago.

The sudden pound of fists on the table at either side of you startled you, expertly caging you in as you looked up. Albedo loomed over you with eyes brightly catching the sun, giving it the luminosity that carried the same curious look he had when faced with the unknown. "Intercourse? If it's true, then please," oh no, "I wish to have intercourse with you."

Excuse me? "Wha-" suddenly, you were hyper-aware of just how close you are to one another. You slightly hiked yourself up against the table, as to preserve what little distance you have. "Wait Albedo, do you not know what that is? It’s only done between lovers!”

And without skipping a beat, he mused, "Convenient, I love you, anything else?" That familiar smirk displayed on his face.

Contrary to his face tho, you greatly contest to Diluc's hair. Really a normal reaction- to this guy suddenly confessing! Your head is already whirling around in confusion and your eyes couldn't set itself straight at him, still mindful of the distance of which reminded you why you were in this predicament in the first place.

Albedo attentively watched your eyes stray to the side as he stands there in silence, seeing it land at the entrance to his laboratory. Ah of course, he thought he'd made a discovery, as he leans away from you to make his way towards the door.

And shut it with a click.

"Wait, wait, why did you lock the door?!" You finally mustered up the courage to speak (breaking away from the shock of his confession) as he finds himself where he stood over you, eyes filled with confusion.

"You were quiet after my confession. I know such moments of romance are intimate and with your eyes, I only wanted to give us privacy," his brows furrowed with confusion before his shoulders dropped, a sharp sigh escaping. "Normally people would express their reciprocation by now," he breathed as he starts pulling back and away, "but voicing your rejection would have been appre-"

Quickly with a yelp, you reached out for his departing form, pulling him back by the grip on his shirt. Albedo's eyes only widened a little as he was quick to grip the table's edge to stabilize himself, one arm wrapped around your waist to ground you. "No! I do- do love you too!" You finally squeezed out the embarrassing confession, "You were just so sudden, it surprised me so much!"

And suddenly he was laughing openly, full of relief and humor, as his shoulders slackened at the validation. The heavy weight on his shoulders eased as if a physical matter left it, the bout of removed tension making him slump on you.

You cradled the tired Albedo in your arms as you let him place his chin on your shoulder. This man is your lover now, you thought as the fact finally dawned on you. The brilliant and most loved in Mond now tied down to you.

Basking in the presence of a person now his, Albedo found himself breathing in. There was a scent to you that always soothes him which now feels emphasized at the closeness. His pupils dilated as his face buries itself closer to the junction where your neck and shoulder meets.

Ah, what was this? Was this the pheromones you once talked about in your research on zoology that attracts those to them? He mused in his mind as those teal eyed fluttered shut, nose brushing at your neck for another whiff.

While Albedo indulged himself with the natural scent of you, you stood there with weak legs, trembling and red from the notions. Oh gods, you whimpered at the feeling of his lips brushing at your skin, you're whipped for this man.

"I'm waiting," you had to hold the shiver when his words vibrated against your neck, "for your answer on my offer, I think it would be good to try." Ah the 'intercourse'. You placed your hands flat on his back as he leans away to stare in attention, and then you finally explained to him what you meant, what you'd do, and what it entails to.

Albedo nods in understanding at your every clause and explanation. And his bright mind understood far too easily how it would help. "We are lovers now," his eyes twinkled at the cute scrunch of your nose upon the embarrassment of the fact, "sooner or later we'd end up doing it anyways. When shouldn't be a matter."

Albedo always make a good point.

With your consent, Albedo slowly lays you on the surface of the table as his other hand makes quick work to swipe away the items that would be in the way, thankfully the carpeted floor prevented anything from breaking. His lips found yours almost naturally as you urged him to take off his coat and you worked on your own, the thoughts spiraling in your head for every clothing that is shed:

Albedo has little to none idea on how sex works between humans, and you had your base knowledge from the things you learned from academics; in short, you're both inexperienced and you are his anchor.

How funny how the master role quickly switched, you thought with an inward laugh before it died in your throat at the sight— he stands there with his undershirt unbuttoned, belt and shorts caught by his knee, and his apparent bulge outlined by his boxers. Your thighs instinctively closed, you don't know what's considered average in size for such things, but you know for a fact there's gonna be some difficulty.

"Is something wrong?" His raw and calloused hands (gloves long gone) softly landed at your squirming thighs, the contact sending a shiver all over. "Am I doing something wrong?"

No, you breathed as you urged him to step closer and settle between your legs at the edge of the table, his form forcing you to spread your limbs apart.

The intoxicating scent that Albedo indulged in earlier was stronger now, drowning him and clouding his thoughts. The waft plunged through his senses so forcefully that he stumbled a bit on you, hips hitting as he grips your sides to keep him steady.

Next came the warmth that touched his sensitive length as it laid between you, the contact had forced out a cute squeak from you and an airy groan from him. His hips buckled to catch the sensation as he finds himself rutting between your folds with ragged breathing.

So good, it felt so good. Albedo finds himself struggling to keep his eyes open from what he now identified to be pleasure, and as he looks up to check on you, you were struggling just the same. Your chest rises and falls in quick successions as you covered your eyes with an arm, whimpers coming out of your slightly parted lips.

Fuck. If only he wasn't so engrossed, he wanted to capture this image through painting. "Am I-," he cleared his throat of the hoarse voice, "Am I hurting you?"

You gasped at the cold and wet feeling swipe from your chin to the corner of your lips, licking the trail of drool you didn't even notice when you opened your eyes to see Albedo's up close. With a shake of your head, you gripped the ponytail of his braid to pull his head for a sudden kiss.

Staggering over your form as your legs hiked up to hook around his waist, you guided the tip of his length to your entrance as he ravaged your mouth without restraint. Lips bruising each other, tongue tracing the underside of yours gingerly before it licks at the roof of your mouth— all the sensations had fogged up your consciousness so badly that you didn't feel an ounce of pain when he finally entered into you, guided by a shy gentleness to his ministrations.

It is only when his tip finally touched the opening of your cervix did you whimper; the way you're being stretched and the fullness of his length in you making you writhe under and around him, the friction only making rousing him more.

Albedo produced a low growl against your lips as he bit down on the bottom one, his trimmed nails digging to your soft-skinned hips as he pins it down. "Stop- nghh- stop moving around so much," a sudden warmth pooled into your stomach as you tightened around him.

Mistake number one: You didn't expect for his gentleness to be gone.

Spurred on by your tightening grip and the pleasure shooting up him everytime his tip came in contact with your edge, Albedo went into a relentless pace, pounding straight into you to hit that spot. Your pants turned into breathless chokes everytime he comes in contact, forcing your raw moans out of you. There's a dull pain by your entrance everytime he grinds against your walls, and he whimpers your name in pure ecstacy every stroke.

Your back arcs as he smacks into you, pulling back halfway through before burying deep into your hole once again. His brutal pace gets sloppy at times, before his strength comes back again to pull you closer. Halfway through Albedo produces a feral growl as he grips one of your legs behind the knee, pushing it closer to your body and slightly angled to the side.

And the moment he thrusts in with the new position, you cried out his name. The tip of his length reached far deeper with this new angle, and had plunged the top right into your cervix— your hips trembled as Albedo's whole body shivers at the new sensation, fingernails digging into your thigh as his other hand intertwines with yours, pinning it down on the table as leverage.

"Ahn," he whispered your name tiredly with tears pricking at the edge of his eyes, for the first time staring at your eyes after he had started, "How are you? Is it okay? Is it..."

Good, you mumbled with a tired smile at his consideration, bumping your hips to emphasize on it- which drew a sharp gasp from the both of you, he was already in so deep, your hips bruised and touching.

He rolled his hips to test out, his thickness rubbing at the walls as he stirs your insides. The sweet moan you produced spurred him on, and he was once again staggering into you, his hips slightly elevated in an angle meant to pierce through you.

The sound of flesh smacking against each other overpowers even your loudest moan as Albedo pleasured himself inside you desperately, the smell of sex filling your sense of smell. He chases the way your hole drips and wafts with the scent, drawing in a huge breathe whenever your mixed cum spills past his tightly locked dick in you.

And soon his pace became more desperate and short, as he makes quick work at hitting you in your most sensitive part to barely give you time to gasp for air. Your walls clenched down on him so tightly as you came, a cry of his name passing your lips as your back arched—

the pressure made him buckle and he thrusts in deep one last time, tip breaking past your cervix, as his climax enters you in thick strings of warmth.

That was mistake number two: you didn't bring protection with you.

But at that moment you couldn't care less (your cycle just ended anyways, you should be fine), watching him whimper your name in full pleasure as his teeth grinds against each other, his forehead and eyebrows knit and furrow as he releases before it relaxes after he is done.

And then he falls face first to your chest, the renowned Alchemist running out of the minimal stamina he had with him. Buried between the valley of your breast, Albedo had the most serene (almost drunk) expression on his face, lips pressed against the skin over your heart where it beats with fervor from your activity.

He tested another experimental thrust, lighter this time, as he felt your mixed fluids moved around the tiny space. You gave a wailing moan at his action, and he breathlessly laughed at your reaction.

Albedo stayed in you and on you for a few more minutes after that. Still trying to regain strength as your tired pants became the white noise that night.

"Albedo..." he hums against your chest as his arms tightened around your waist, enjoying the peace your hands brought to him as you stroke his cheek. "Albedo, I need to clean up." He jests that you should just keep it in you and you responded with rapid pats, whining at the notion. He chuckles.

It took him a lot of willpower to get up and he made it obvious as hell, taking his time to remove himself off your chest, grumbling that his bed was complaining too much. You let out a cute snort before smacking his arm. Albedo grips your hips as he gently pulls out when he stops suddenly, realizing that the liquids would pour out and make an obvious mess if he were to do so.

His head passes around the immediate area as he pinpoints a peculiar object, plucking it from its plastic package, still new from the bubble wrap. A sharp gasp suddenly comes by you at the cold and hard sensation that replaced Albedo inside you, only a few inches deep as the Alchemist walks off to get tissues. Wary, you looked down to see the object, choking out when you saw its end sticking out past your crotch:

A test tube, pristine and clean, was preventing the fluids from dripping out of your hole.

When Albedo came back with the tissues and spare cloth in hand, he muses at how your deep red face was smacked tightly against your palms. He offers to clean up, a gentle hand carefully pulling out the tube, but you refused and got quick work on yourself. That was enough embarrassment for tonight.

Unbeknownst to you with your busied self, Albedo held the glass vial in close inspection and curiosity. The translucent white liquid barely blocks the night light and produced the same strong scent he'd been chasing the whole night— he sticks his tongue out to taste, ah, slightly salty and sticky.

Albedo wonders what kind of experiment he can do with this.

The obvious lift on the shoulders of the Chief Alchemist was greatly acknowledged by everyone in town who were aware of the impasse the young man had troubled himself with for the past few days. The bags under his eyes were gone, and the tealness he has shined with newfound vigor. Besides the mood shift, many of the knights had also noticed the time spent between the two of you. Missions and expeditions were always coinciding with each other and people barely saw you separated, giggling and smiling to yourselves in your pink world.

One day they finally found out about your relationship when a knight barged in to his laboratory for an urgent matter. Blurting out the Chief Alchemist's name before he realized that you were there, lips locked against each other.

The news spreads fast with that little detail and everyone congratulated you on your relationship.

Behind your bashful smiles, you and Albedo sighed in great relief, thankful to the archons that the knight didn't took notice of your hand under his big white coat that time.

This turned out like this cuz alchemy boy very new to things u_u and little stamina, he needs to exercise more ehe-

@creation-magician @dandelion-dreams @zelos-simp @struggljng @youroffical-weirdo @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact x reader #exile.flower #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #Albedo #not for children #bonafide specials #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #author.exe stopped working #author scared #*glares* part two will wait a lil longer #female reader

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

From Friends To This

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom gives you an intimate compliment that makes you question just how platonic your friendship is

Masterlist

Unable to sleep and growing bored with the episode of Grey’s Anatomy he was watching, Tom reached up and knocked the secret rhythm to on his wall. He tilted his chin up towards the wall, waiting for your response. Finally, you finished the knock, letting Tom know you were still awake. Ever since you moved in, you and Tom communicated at through knocking on the wall since your rooms were next to each other. It was reserved for late night messages, usually when one of you wanted a snack but didn’t want to go to the kitchen alone. Tonight, it was a matter of curiously.

“did I wake you?” Tom pulled out his phone to text you, not wanting to keep you up if you had been asleep.

“you know I’m always awake. what’s on your mind?” You texted back in a few short seconds, making Tom smile.

“I’m a few seasons into Grey’s Anatomy and I need to know who I can’t get attached to in case they die.”

“when I tell you you cannot get attached to ANYONE I mean it.” You answered. Toms thumbed danced over the keyboard, unsure of what to say next. He didn’t exactly have anything to talk about, he just wanted to talk to you. His eyes drifted back to his screen and he paid a little more attention, watching as Owen stood behind Christina and smiled for a minute before saying, “You should wear your hair up more. It shows off the back of your neck. I like the back of your neck.”

“Gross.” Tom mumbled as he shifted his eyes back to his phone. That was how he chose to flirt with the girl he liked? Tom continued texting you when what was intended to be background noise caught his eye. He thought Christina would find that comment as weird as he did, but she didn’t. She did the opposite.

She liked it.

Tom stared at his screen with furrowed eyebrows as Christina timidly brushed the back of her neck with her fingertips with a smile, making Tom wonder if that line actually worked on girls. His eyes shifted back to his phone, thumbs dancing over the keyboard as he thought of what to type. Finally, he decided to let Owen do the talking for him.

“you should wear your hair up more” He wrote, heart pounding in his ears as he waited for the bubble to come up.

“why 😳” Your text appeared on his screen and he blew out a nervous breath. No going back now if he was already halfway there.

“it shows off the back of your neck”

“yes and?” You wrote.

Tom twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he typed out the next part.

“I like the back of your neck.”

A bubble appeared almost immediately, then disappeared. Tom almost threw his phone across the room from anxiety as he waited for your response. The clock went up a minute before your answer came.

“aw, really?” came first.

Then, “what about the skin between my fingers?”

Followed by, “or my weenis?”

And then, “do you like the back of my knees too?”

Tom laughed to himself, his chest rising and falling repeatedly at your words.

“fine. I’ll just never compliment you again 😔” Tom texted you back. His plan didn’t end up with you admitted your long held love for him, but it didn’t completely backfire either. He was at a happy medium, and he was okay with that.

“ok, dork.” You sent. “what are you, a vampire? trying to get me to show off my neck I see 👀”

“you caught me. that’s why I’m so pale and moody. I’m tryna bite that neck”. Tom wrote you back. At least you weren’t making him feel bad for what he said, even if it fell a little flat.

“smh. you ain’t slick holland” You texted, making Tom chuckle again. You hadn’t reacted the way Christina had, but you also hadn’t reacted the way Tom had.

In Toms mind, that was a good thing.

Little did he know, that text would forever change the nature of your relation.

Monday

The conversation completely departed from Tom’s mind by the next morning as he put his dishes away in the sink and loaded them in the dishwasher. He rinsed his plate right as you walked by, your perfume wafting his way as you passed.

“Good morning.” You said over your shoulder as you opened the cabinet next to the sink. You began to move the various mugs out of your way until you found the one you were looking for, shaking your head a little back and forth to let your hair move. Tom snuck a glance at you and cocked a smile when he saw what you had done.

You had worn your hair in a ponytail.

“Great morning, actually.” Tom remarked, tilting his head to look at you as he shut the faucet off. “Nice hair.”

You gave him a poised look before ostentatiously shaking your head, letting your ponytail swish.

“Thanks.” You shrugged casually as you poured some hot water in your mug, a coy smile perched on your face.

“You’re welcome.” Tom told you as he leaned on the counter and picked up his own blue mug.

“No, Tom.” You said, looking in the mirror on the wall and adjusting your ponytail before looking at Tom and shooting him a wink. “You’re welcome.”

And then you walked away, your ponytail hitting him when you did.

Tom stared at you as you walked away with a dropped jaw, folding his arms as he thought about what he just witnessed.

“Ponytail.” He mumbled to himself. “She wore a ponytail.”

Later that day, Tom sat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers against his cheek as he edited his and Harry’s script when he felt your hair hitting his face. He looked up from his computer as you sat down beside him, a coy smile on your face.

“Oh, Sorry. Did I hit you with my ponytail?” You asked before hitting him with it again. “Sorry.”

And again.

“Sorry. So sorry.” You stifled a laugh as you opened your own laptop and began to type.

“So this is what I get for trying to be nice.” Tom said unenthusiastically. He couldn’t help his eyes from drifting to your ponytail as you typed, smiling a little at the way it bounced.

“No.” You told him. “This is what you get for telling me you like the back of my neck.”

“Is it that weird of a thing to say?” He asked, a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance ringing in his voice. You looked at him Tm out of the corner of your yes, smirking a little at he got riled up.

“Who said it was weird?” You shrugged as you flicked your hair in his face again. “Sorry.”

“I’m trying to work and you’re being incredibly distracting.” Tom grumbled as he tried to focus on his work. However, it was proving to be incredibly difficult since you decided to sit oh so close to him.

“Am I?” You played dumb and twirled your hair around your finger. “What’s distracting you?”

Tom stared at you for a moment, caught up in the way your hair twirled around your finger. He felt an ache in his chest as he fought the urge to replace your hands with his and run your fingers through your hair. He locked eyes with you and shook his head, laughing a little to himself as you teased him.

“You know.” He insisted, eyes going back to your hair.

“Could it be…”, you sassily flipped your ponytail and held you hand over your heart, “the back of my neck?”

You let out an ostentatious gasp as if you just revealed the killer in a murder mystery before letting out a laugh.

“Can you just forget I said that?” Tom whined as you snickered at your own joke. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You told me you liked the back of my neck, Tommy.” You reminded him. “How can that not mean anything?”

“It just doesn’t. It’s just something I said. No harm done.” Tom insisted, hoping you’d let him dismiss it.

“If there’s no harm done in what you said, then there’s no harm in my ponytail.” You shrugged, letting your ponytail sway as you moved. Tom looked at you for a long time and you stared right back, raising your eyebrows to challenge him.

“It was just a compliment.” Tom told you.

“And it’s just a ponytail.” You shot back. Tom squinted his eyes at you but you didn’t budge. Neither of you were gonna break, which meant Tom was getting zero work done, not that he minded.

“Tell me why you wore one.” He said, shitting his laptop to give you his full attention.

“Tell me why you like the back of my neck.” You answered, turned in your chair to face him. You puffed your chest out a little, trying to look tough as you set your focus on him.

“It was just a compliment.” He repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. You cracked a smile before leaning closer, close enough that your breath fanned his face.

“And it’s just a ponytail.” You said breathily. “Bye now.”

You waved flirtatiously at Tom as you sprung out of your seat, letting your ponytail flick him one last time before you left the room. He turned in his seat to watch you as he left, heart still skipping beats from how close you’d been.

“That damn ponytail.” Tom grumbled.

Tuesday

Tom thought the great back of the neck debate would end after one day, but when he watched you waltz into the kitchen the next morning with your hair pulled into a bun, he knew he was dead wrong. You weren’t the one to drop things, and he wasn’t the one to make the first move. As you took your place next to him at the kitchen counter, he knew this debate wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

“I like your hair today.” Tom said slowly as he stirred sugar into his tea. He handed you the sugar, knowing you liked your tea just as sweet as him, and you wordlessly accepted it.

“Thanks. It’s just so hot out, I wanted my hair off my face.” You said causally before looking at him out of the corner of your eye. “And neck.”

“It’s raining.” Tom smirked as he took a sip from his blue mug.

“Is it?” You asked, turning all the way around to look out the window and giving Tom a long look at the back of your neck. You turned back around, rubbing your hand on your shoulder to draw even more attention to that God forsaken part of your body. Tom knew exactly what you were doing, and evidently, so did you.

You looked back at him and shrugged before stirring sugar into your tea. “I guess it is.”

You took a step closer to Tom, taking a long sip of your tea as you held eye contact with Tom.

“I really like the bun, love.” Tom spoke softly in his morning voice. “Looks great.”

“You like it?” You raised your eyebrows seductively. “Tell me Tom, why do you like it?”

“I think we’ve been over this, darling.” He dished it right back, not letting you get the upper hand.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember.” You tilted your head. “Do you think you can back track for a second and remind me?”

Your chests were practically touching now, morning tea long forgotten.

“I like it when you wear your hair up.” Tom said without ever breaking eye contact. You stared back at him firmly until just for a moment, you quivered. You looked away quickly and insecurely touched your hair, letting your fingers slid to rest on the back of your neck.

“I have to go.” You picked up your mug and gave him a tight smile. “See you later.”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows once you left, feeling even more confused than the day before. If he didn’t know any better, you had gotten flustered from your little encounter. In the years Tom had known you and the months you’ve lived together, he was usually the one left with flushed cheeks and a racing heart after a shared moment went from platonic to flirtatious too quickly. He’d never seen something he did have such an effect on you. The memory of your flushed cheeks and wide eyes gave Tom the confidence to navigate the new territory you had entered. Something about his text from that night sparked something between the two of you, a battle that Tom was determined to win.

Wednesday

You had gone out to breakfast with old friends, so Tom hadn’t seen you all morning. It wasn’t until 2 pm that he found you at the kitchen table, leaning on your hand as your eyes lazily scanned your computer. He smirked and laughed to himself upon seeing that you had done it once again.

“Pigtails.” Tom said, alerting you to his presence. You didn’t look up from your computer but a cheeky smile tugged at your lips.

“Sorry, what was that?” You pretended not to hear him as you twirled a strand of hair from your pigtail around your fingers.

“I haven’t seen you in pigtails since Harrison tugged on them so hard you cried in Year 3.” Tom noted as he leaned on the table across from you.

“Well, this is my first step in getting over that tragic day.” You said as you looked at him through your eyelashes, letting it linger before looking back at your computer. Tom gripped the table in frustration, shaking the table a little but you still didn’t look up. Something about the combination of your hairstyle and you refusing to look at Tom was driving him up a wall. He walked around the table, stopping when he was stood behind your chair. He rested his hands on your shoulders, making your body freeze as whatever was on your computer screen completely left your mind.

“I see.” Tom said lowly as his rough hands began to knead your shoulders, paying extra attention to your neck. He cracked a smile when he heard you suck in a breath, swimming in glory at the effect he had on you. Always wanted to push his luck, Tom let his thumb slowly drag down the back of your, neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“Beautiful.” He murmured, and a chill went down your spine.

“Hey Y/n. Ding dong!” Harrison came out of seemingly nowhere and grabbed onto your pigtail, yanking it twice like it was a bell. Tom jumped back and put his hands in his back pockets, feeling his heart about to beat out of his chest. You swatted Harrison’s hands away and stood up, shooting a glance at Tom before turning back to Harrison.

“Very funny. You know who rings bells like that? The hunchback of notre dame.” You shoved Harrison playfully before sneaking another glance at Tom. The tension that had built between you could be cut with a knife, and today that knife was named Harrison.

“Stop flirting with me, Y/n.” Harrison joked as he gave your hair one last tug. You made a face at him before he let the room, his laugh echoing. Your eyes slowly made their way back to Tom, a now awkward silence filling the room.

“I’m gonna…” You pointed to your hair and began to take out your pigtails, needing an excuse not to look at Tom.

“Yeah, good idea.” Tom walked to you and immediately got to work to take down the other pigtail. He was gentle, careful not to tug at your baby hairs as he took the hair tie out. You winced a little as a hair got caught but didn’t make a sound.

“Sorry.” Tom said quietly as held your hair tie out to you. You looked at him as your hand closed around it, blinking a few times as you collected yourself.

“It’s okay.” Your tone was even softer as the tension from before reclaimed its place between you.

“Why do you keep wearing your hair up?” He asked, fingering a strand of your hair as he kept his eyes down.

“Why did you tell me you like the back of my neck?” You asked back.

“I don’t know.” Tom answered, leaning in a little closer.

“Then I don’t know either.” You looked him right in the eyes before turning sharply and leaving, your hair hitting him as you went.

Thursday

“Beautiful day, isn’t it? Gosh, it’s a wonderful day. Why are you all sitting inside? We should go out and enjoy the fresh morning air. Come on guys, let’s get this joint jumping.” You entered the room where the rest of the boys were with a suspiciously chipper attitude. The boys exchanged looks as you stood in the center with a huge smile.

“Did you put crack in your tea instead of sugar this morning?” Harry asked you.

“Again?” Tuwaine added.

It was then that Tom glanced up from his phone only to see you staring right at him with yet another updo.

“Good morning Tom.” You nodded at him.

“Good morning to you too, Princess Leia.” Tom smiled at your hair today, two buns below each ear.

“Just trying something new.” You shrugged and sat down next to Harrison. Tom furrowed his eyebrows, well aware of the empty spot on the sofa next to him where you usually sat. He knew this was all apart of the little dance the two of you had been doing, but it bothered him nonetheless. His eyes burned holes in your like a lit cigarette on paper from across the room as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Hey, Haz.” You said, purposefully loud enough for Tom to hear. He tried to go back to what he was looking at on his phone, but found it impossible to concentrate when you were practically on top of Harrison.

“Hey.” He greeted, having no clue what he was now apart of. “I like the buns. You look like you’re gonna churn some butter.”

You looked at Tom smugly when his best friend complimented you before returning your attention to Harrison. You began to twirl the ends of Harrison’s grown out curls between your fingers, making Toms chest tighten.

“That’s so funny, Haz.” You laughed loudly, too loud to be real. “You’re just so-“

“Y/n, can we talk in the other room for a second?” Tom snapped, practically springing out of his seat.

“Okay.” You looked at him strangely and got out of your seat. As soon as you were standing, Tom grabbed your hand and pulled you into the hallway.

“Your hair is up.” He pointed a finger at you as he whispered sharply.

“I’m well aware.” You scoffed and folded your arms.

“Why do you keep wearing it up?” He asked, losing his mind now. His blood was on fire now after nearly a week of cat and mouse.

“Why do you care?” You answered his question with a question, only making him more frustrated. Tom opened his mouth to speak but found himself with nothing to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, giving it a stressful tug as he fell speechless.

“That’s what I thought.” You laughed, almost sadly. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be ready to listen.”

“Y/n.” Tom began but you were already walking away.

“I gotta go.” You mumbled, barely audible as you turned the corner.

Friday

Braids.

You had two Dutch braids, parted down the middle to give Tom a perfect view of the back of your neck.

You didn’t know this, but Tom loved braids.

Like, really loved braids.

He stared at you for a moment, not sure what your reaction would be to him today. After the weird talk you had yesterday, he thought for sure you’d stop with the hairstyles. You had your back to him and of you knew he had entered the room, you didn’t show it. Tom passed you to get a mug from the cabinet. When you didn’t speak, he didn’t either. He slowly poured hot water into the mug and unwrapped a tea bag, wincing at how loud it sounded with all the awkward silence in the room.

“Good morning.” Your voice cut the silence like a pair of scissors, making Tom turn and look at you.

“Good morning.” He said softly, surprised you were the first one to speak. He timidly held his cup of tea, clutching like a child holding a blanket as he looked at you. You weren’t looking up, but it wasn’t like the day before. You weren’t teasing him this time.

You were upset with him.

The searing tension that had been following the two of you all week had been replaced with an ice that chilled the room.

“It’s gonna rain later.” Your voice was delicate and low as you kept your eyes on the newspaper. Tom knew you. You never read the newspaper.

You just didn’t want to look at him.

“Yeah. I heard.” Tom nodded slowly, aching to reach out and apologize to you. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, he just didn’t know what he was sorry for.

“We should probably put a cover over the chicken coop.” You said as you turned the page, eyes never coming his way.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

The silence crept back in and Tom felt a twinge or pain in his heart. He needed you to look at him so he knew you were okay.

“I like your hair today.” Tom spoke again, his voice weak from not trusting it enough to speak at full volume.

“Thanks.” You said sharply, getting out of your seat and taking the newspaper with you.

“Y/n-“ Tom began, taking a step towards you.

“I’m gonna go feed the chickens.” You stated, leaving out the backdoor and not looking back.

A few hours later, you appeared in Toms doorway wearing one of his hoodies. It was too big on you, covering your body past the little black shorts you had on. You were holding a jar of pickles in your hands and had a sheepish look on your face.

“I can’t open this.” You said weakly as you held up the jar. Tom looked up at you from his desk with a small smile. He knew this was your way of apologizing and he doubted you knew what you were sorry for either.

“Come here.” Tom held his arm out and you walked towards him. He took the jar from you and opened it with ease while holding eye contact with you. After you refused to look at him that morning, he needed this.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly at him as you took the jar and set it on his desk.

“You’re welcome, darling.” Tom nodded, setting the lid down beside the jar. Your face contorted into a pained expression and you looked down, tugging at the strings of his hoodie to distract yourself.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. And this morning.” You spoke. “I don’t even know why I’m mad at you. I had no right to be.”

“That’s okay.” Tom told you. “I’m just glad you’re talking to me now.”

“I’m gonna go eat these now.” You took the jar of pickles and the lid and gave him an awkward smile.

“You don’t have to leave.” Tom said quickly when you were halfway out the door. You turned around and his face flushed, feeling embarrassed for sounding so desperate. “I just, um, I mean you could stay if you like.”

“Okay.” You nodded and took a seat on his bed, setting the jar down on his nightstand.

Tom spun around in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees to face you.

“You’re wearing my hoodie.” He noted, hoping that was a good sign that you were not longer mad at him.

“I was cold.” You shrugged and tugged at one of your braids. You began to play with the hair that came out of your hair tie as you looked around Tom’s room. You were avoiding eye contact once again and Tom was growing frustrated. If he had never given you that compliment, none of this would be happening. He worried he had permanently changed the nature of your relationship all because of some stupid statement.

“You’re being weird.” Tom said, speaking before thinking it through. You were both avoiding the conversation but he didn’t want to do it anymore. If he didn’t fix it now, he feared he never could.

“No I’m not.” You scoffed and took out your hair tie, undoing and redoing the bottom of your braid.

“Yes, you are.” Tom insisted, getting out of his chair to gain leverage.

“No, I’m not.” You stood up as well and looked at him sternly.

“Yes you are!” Tom snapped. “You keep touching your hair. You only do that when something’s on your mind.”

“Nope. No thoughts. Head empty.” You tapped the side of your head and laughed nervously.

“Fine. Then I’ll drop it.” Tom held up his hands in defense.

“Good.” You sighed in relief, taking your hand away from your braid and tucking them into the pocket of the hoodie. Tom looked you up and down, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at your braids.

“You wore your hair up every day this week.” He blurted, making you let out a groan.

“Tom.” You whined. “You said you were dropping it.”

“I will drop it.” He promised. “Just as soon as you tell me why.”

“I don’t know why.” You raised your voice, frustrated with both him and yourself.

“I’m sure you can think of something.” Tom snapped back, not being able to take his eyes off those damn braids.

“Does it really matter?” You whined, rubbing the back of your neck as you looked out his window.

“Yes! It does matter. To me, it matters.”

“Why?” You were both yelling now, not even aware of what was making you angry.

“It just does.” Tom sighed, calming down a little. “It just does.”

“Well I don’t have an answer for you.” You shrugged helplessly. “I can’t help you.”

“Does you wearing your hair up have anything to do with me telling you I like the back of your neck?” Tom asked slowly, taking a sudden interest in the floor as he asked the question that had been weighing on his mind all week.

“Oh my God.” You covered your face with your hands and dragged them down.

“What?”

“Stop saying that!” You pointed an angry finger at him. “Stop telling me you like the back of my neck!”

“Why? It’s a great neck.” Tom defended himself and his compliment, unintentionally making the situation worse. Your eyes widened as you balled your hands into fists and looked at the ceiling.

“UGH.” You gripping the sides of your head and spun in a frustrated circle.

“What is your problem?” Tom asked in exasperation as he watched your freak out.

“You! You’re my problem.” You yelled. “I can’t get you or your stupid compliment out of my head.”

“So that’s what this is about? You’re being weird because I complimented you?” Tom asked, a little hurt but even more confused.

“It’s not that you complimented me, Tom.” You shook your head in defeat. “It’s that you gave me that compliment.”

“I don’t get it. I don’t get what the big deal is.” Tom sighed in frustration. He was at the end of his rope trying to figure out what he did wrong.

“There is no deal. Just drop it, okay? Can we please drop it?” You took his hands in yours as you begged him. Tom could see the desperation in his eyes and as much as he wanted to get to the bottom of why his comment set you off, he cared about your feelings more than his own.

“Fine.” Tom agreed, not wanting to push you if you didn’t want to be pushed. You gave him a appreciative smile, still holding his hands in yours. After squeezing his hands to show you were grateful to him for dropping the subject, you went to leave the room. In the few short paces to the door, you heard Tom sigh. You stopped in his doorway, resting your hand on the doorframe. Tom looked at you longingly as you stood there, eyes landing on the back of your neck. It occurred to you what he was doing, making a compromise for your sake. He wasn’t satiated with your answer but was willing to accept it to make you happy, and somehow, that made everything worse.

“I didn’t know how to react.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could consider the repercussions of this particular conversation. The very conversation you and Tom had carefully choreography your relationship to dance around.

The conversation where you admitted that you both wanted to be more than what you were.

“What?” Tom asked, not understanding your statement. You craned your neck slightly, looking at him over your shoulder as you sighed.

“I didn’t know how to react to your compliment.” You repeated. “That’s why I’ve been weird. And that’s why I’ve been wearing my hair up. I didn’t know how to react.”

Your eyes locked with Tom as you stood on opposite sides of the room, feeling every inch of the distance between you.

“Oh.” Tom spoke softly, eyes dropping to the floor.

“You can’t just tell me you like the back of my neck. You can’t.” You shook your head and shut your eyes, unable to look at him in your vulnerable state.

“Why?” Tom asked desperately, wishing you could just be honest with him, even if he wasn’t being entirely honest with you.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed and turned away again. “I can’t do this.”

“What’s wrong?” Tom pleaded. “We have not been able to act normal around each other ever since I sent you that stupid text. Why did it mess everything up? I can’t compliment my friend?”

“Not compliments like that.” You protested breathlessly. “You can tell me you like my ponytail but you can’t tell me you like the back of my neck.”

“Why? What am I missing?” Tom asked in a forlorn attempt to get some understanding. “Is there some compliment rule book I’m not following?”

“No. It’s just...” You shrugged and you trailed off. “Friends can like my hairstyle, okay? They can tell me my hair looks nice or cute or whatever and that’s fine.”

“Okay.” Tom tried to follow.

“Liking the back of my neck, Tom…”, your sentence tampered off as you nervously combed your fingers through the end of your braid.

“What?” Tom asked. “Please tell me.”

“That’s a boyfriend thing.” You finally admitted, and the air thickened in the room. “That’s something a boyfriend would notice. A really, really good one, at that.”

Just about every emotion hit Tom at once, making him stumble backwards a little as he processed your words. You had just cut the wire you had both been avoiding, and now the bomb had gone off. You would never be just friends again. Even if the conversation ended amicably, your relationship would never go back to what it was.

“Oh.” Tom said, squeezing his eyes shut as he regretted his pathetic answer.

“Look, Tommy.” You sighed and stepped further into his room. “I’ve always put my relationships in boxes. I have friends in one, crushes in the other. That’s how it’s always been. But you,” you shrugged helplessly and folded your arms, “you blur the line. You fall in both boxes. And when you tell me things like liking the back of my neck”, you looked at him in anguish, “you blur the line even more. You blur it so much that I can’t even tell where you fall. I don’t see any boxes. All I see is you.”

The corner of Tom’s mouth twitched, curving into a smile at you admission. He took a step closer to you, taking one of your braids between his fingers and toying with it.

“Have I ever told you I like the bridge of your nose?” Tom began. “I like the way it sits on your face. It’s like the bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table.”

“Tom.” You tried you stop him before he made irreparable damage to your friendship.

“Your collarbones look more prominent when you wear silver necklaces, but softer when you wear gold ones. You only wear gold ones if you’re wearing red or green, though.” He continued. “You love putting highlighter on your collarbones when your outfit leaves them exposed, but your absolute favorite thing to do is put blush on your nose. You never skip that. Even on days when you’re tired.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You shook your head, wordlessly begging with him to stop.

“Your pony tail is always lopsided because you lean on your hand when you write or type, and I think that’s wildly endearing. It also gives me a better view of the back of your neck, but we don’t have to talk about that.” He cracked a smile, and you did too. “You can’t tell jokes because you get too excited and give the punchline away. It annoys Harry but I think it’s adorable. Your socks never match and you can’t sleep unless your closet doors are closed. It makes you too nervous.”

“Please-“

“You pretend to scratch your nose when you’re uncomfortable in a conversation and need a break from making eye contact. You don’t do it with me but you do it with Harry sometimes when you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic.” Tom recalled. “You always do it when you’re talking to our neighbor to the left because he makes you feel uneasy. Do you need me to go on?”

“No.” You said quickly. “What point are you trying to make here?”

“I’m trying to say that if these are boyfriend things, I’m okay with that. That’s just how I love you.” He said passionately. “I notice things. I notice everything that makes you up. So I’m sorry if that confuses things for you, but I’m also not sorry. You’re too good not to notice.”

Your eyebrows went up as your jaw slacked like your face was being pulled by a string. Your hand went to your necklace, a delicate gold chain with your initial hanging from it. It was a gift from Tom two Christmas’s ago, and you wore it every time you wore red or green. You didn’t have to say it, but both of you knew you were wearing green underneath Toms hoodie. Your mind was an ocean of words but none of them were making their way to your mouth. You stood there in silence and your hand moved to the back of your neck, finding a home there.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” Tom sighed when he gaged your reaction. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You always use the blue mug in the morning.” You said after a beat of silence. “You use it in the morning but never at any other time of the day. I don’t know why you do it but you do. I always thought you never let anyone else use the blue mug until you made me tea in it after my breakup with Brad. I swear, the tears stopped falling right then and I think you noticed that because you always give me that mug when I’m sad.” You laughed softly. “Your hair stylist combs your hair to the left but you like it all pushed back. You always leave two buttons unbuttoned on your shirts and you leave your closet doors open when you sleep. It drives me crazy but you do.”

Toms lips melted into a firm line as tears filled his eyes. He always felt like a book that only he could understand, but you had just interpreted the pages. He was rendered speechless as you revealed all the things you noticed about Tom but never spoke about.

“I notice too.” You said softly. “Maybe not the back of your neck, but I notice.”

Tom smiled brightly at you, feeling his heart swell just from the sight of you. He looked down bashfully and stepped closer to you, your chests touching once again.

“I, uh, I started leaving my closet doors open as a kid so Sully from Monsters Inc would have an easier time getting in my room.” Tom admitted. “I used to wait up to meet him and I never broke that habit.”

“Oh my God.” You chuckled and wiped a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “You’re an adult.”

Tom laughed along with you, a comfortable silence replacing the sadness of the room with your highest hopes.

“You’re my best friend.” Tom said suddenly as his laughter died down.

“And you’re mine.” You told him.

“I don’t want you like a best friend.” He shook his head rapidly as he put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. You put your hands on either side of his face and pulled him impossibly closer, taking the chance to grip the curls on the back of his neck. Tom smiles against your lips and grabbed both your braid in one hand, tugging them firmly to deepen the kiss.

“These damn braids.” Tom groaned, making you laugh into the kiss.

“You should’ve told me you liked the back of my neck sooner.” You said between kisses.

“I hadn’t seen that episode of Grey’s Anatomy yet.” Tom spoke breathlessly as he pulled you in for another heated kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair before pulling away suddenly when you processed what he said.

“Wait, what?”

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inkedtae · 4 years

Text

fountain of fantasies ⇾ jjk. [M]

⟶ from the eros universe; you do not need to read eros to read this one shot

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ god!jungkook x curvy!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ s2l, greek mythology au, circa. 1800 au, historical au, light fluff, angst, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ you rather be engaging in heart racing activities than in heart breaking ones

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 15.6k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!jungkook, bigdick!jungkook, buff!jungkook, winged!jungkook, longhair!jungkook, ponytail!jungkook, sub!reader, slightly insecure!reader, shy!reader, mentions and consumption of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it folks), rough sex, playful-ish sex, semi-public sex, fountain sex, dirty talk, creampie, multiple orgasms, slight degradation, overstimulation, exhibition, a lil voyeurism, praise kink, anal, edging, squirting, choking, hair pulling, bodyworshipping, a lil motorboating, a lil begging, water play, a lil spit play, a lil breast play, ass play, a fountain of filth :)

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i’m too much of a hoe for greek god guk not to turn this into a mini-series...

⤜ banner by ↠ @thebannershop (thank you dearie~)

⤜ beta’d by ↠ @moonmintrails (my soulmate~)

⤜ le playlist ↠

Plump plum juices leak from your violet stained lips. You watch the storm rage through the balcony windows. Flashes of lightning, streaks of raindrops and the wall-rattling thunder only stares back at you. The noise of the world around you would be just the perfect cover for all the sounds he draws out of you. Teeth sinking into the fruit’s flesh, you take another bite and fix your stockings. Topless, you lean back in your plush seat and cross your legs.

You know he’s not coming. It’s been a week since his last visit, a week of staying up late only to fall asleep and wake up to a new toy. You glance at your bed. The collection of gifts under it do not compensate for his absence. You don’t want the ruby dildos or golden anal plugs. You can live without the silver tit-clamps and sapphire pearled whips. It’s him you won’t do without.

But tonight would be a perfect night of fun. You swallow your bite before taking another one as your mind circles every dirty thought you’ve been wanting to entertain for the last seven days. Staring out the rain stained windows, the one that appeals to you the most for tonight would be on that balcony, where it started all those months ago. The thought of being drenched in rainwater while he bends you over the railing makes you squeeze your crossed legs together. And the fluttering flap of his wings as they shake out the storm prickles your skin with goosebumps. Wet hands tangled in your wet hair. Loud moans blended in the loud thunder.

An urgent knock raps on your door. You sit up, letting out a shaky breath from the remnants of that fantasy. As you set your plum down by some grapes on the side table, you shoot to your feet to grab your robe.

“Bunny,” Mary, your sister, whispers from the other side.

The little childhood nickname brings a smile to your face. The two of you would play Wonderland in the garden as children and Mary would have you, Bunny, guide her down the right path. Now, she only ever calls you that when she’s nervous and struggling to admit it.

Tying the robe around your waist, you eagerly let her in. “What is it, Mary?” You smile as she rushes past you.

She doesn’t take a moment to properly greet you, darting to your little library instead. “Do you have that book about Mount Olympus?” She asks. Her freshly painted nails scrape over the spines of each book as you part your lips to reply. “Oh! Here it is!”

Returning to your seat, you watch your older sister skim through the pages. “Why the sudden interest in Greek gods?”

“Michael mentioned something about Hera and I just wanted to- I knew it!”

Chewing on another bite, you raise a brow at her. “I’m sure he’d be pleased to hear that tomorrow,” you chuckle around your food.

Mary pauses. Her eyes, previously gleaming with excitement, diminish into indifference. She clears her throat and shuts the book. “Mama says to never correct a man.”

You stuff your mouth with a big bite and avoid your sister’s gaze. There’s lots you have to say about your mother’s philosophy on love, but you know better than to voice those opinions.

Mary continues talking, despite knowing your reservations about your mother. She holds the book to her chest and tentatively sits on your bed. “Mama wants me to talk to you about something.”

Slowly chewing, you glance at her. You already know where this is going. It’s another desperate attempt on your mother’s part to make sure you don’t wear the dress he had gifted you. She knows full well how much it reveals and how well it’s designed. You don’t care for your mother’s opinion though; you haven’t for months. It’s Mary’s opinion on the subject that matters to you.

“But, I told her that I don’t want to lie to you.” She takes a moment to sigh then meets your gaze once more. “You’ll look gorgeous in that dress, Bunny,” she smiles. “And I have the perfect shoes for them too.”

A laugh bubbles out of your throat and you almost choke on your food. Mary laughs at your struggling state. “Oh, can we get ready for your party together?” You ask, perking up in your seat once you properly swallow your food.

Mary’s excited gaze wavers. She glances back at the book before hesitantly nodding. “Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing…”

You give her a pointed look. Flopping down on the bed, Mary groans and stares up at the ceiling. “What do you think of Michael?” You part your lips to reply, but she continues, “I mean I know he’s from a good family, and can take care of me, and he’s so handsome.”

You bite your lip at the last comment. Michael is not exactly your type of heartthrob. But, then again, your senses have been obscured by a god, so now not a single person can look as handsome, as beautiful, as heavenly as your Eros.

“But, he says and does things I’m not exactly…” She trails off. “And I think his previous courtship with Linette ended horribly.”

Her half-sentence rings some warning in your gut. However, by the way she avoids eye contact to stare at your crystal chandelier, you decide not to address it. “What makes you think so?” you ask instead.

“Well, that’s what he told me.”

Resisting the urge to scoff, you simply quirk a brow. Mary may be a couple of years older, but she still hasn’t grown out of her naive tendencies. You’re about to tell her that everything will be okay when you catch a familiar silhouette on your balcony.

He’s here.

Mary shoots up off your bed. You fear for a second that she may have seen him, but then she asks, “So? What do you think?”

Gulping, you take a moment to collect your thoughts. Erasing the fact that he’s finally here from your mind, you try to remain focused on your sister. You want the best for her. You want her to be excited about who she marries and for the life she will spend with that person. And that’s why it takes you a world of restraint not to tell her that if she isn’t a hundred percent sure about marrying Michael, then maybe she shouldn’t.

“Do you love him, Mary?” You ask. “And I don’t mean that ‘nobility’ love. I mean that, ‘makes you cry just thinking about losing him’ love.”

Mary hesitates.Your eyes flicker to the balcony where he continues to stand. Inhaling deeply, you silently ask him to wait just a second longer.

“I think I do,” she smiles.

Your heart shatters at her phrasing. I think. Where is the room for thinking when true love is at your door? You want to tell her that there shouldn’t be any of this ‘thinking’ nonsense. You either do or you don’t, you want to say. But her smile is so pure and eyes light up just enough that you don’t have the heart to take it all away. Besides, maybe she really does love him.

“Then, I think he’s perfect for you.”

Mary grabs the book and jumps to her feet. “Let’s meet in my room at seven,” she smiles, ruffling through your hair on her way to the door. “Have a good night, Bunny.”

“You too,” you smile as she shuts the door with a wink. The gesture is unusual but you suppose she’s just excited about the party tomorrow. You’re not exactly sure why she did it and with a winged god at your door, you can’t find it in you to care for too long.

Darting to the balcony, you pull open the doors to be greeted by empty winds and heavy raindrops. Those wings are gone, balcony vacant of anything but despair. Not even a gift replaces his presence. You hold your tears back and swallow the growing lump in your throat. Your time is not one of his toys, nor is it free. You’ve run out of patience. You’re empty of reason, thriving on broken feelings.

Shakily sighing, you bury the hurt in your voice and whisper, “if you can’t stay, don’t come at all.”

Sparkling diamonds, glasses, and wine circle the ballroom. Sipping on your drink, you take in the gleaming marble floors and the arches of the grand windows. The Barbury Estate is twice the size of yours. You want to believe that your mother’s delight in Mary’s proposal has more to do with her happiness than the fact that her fiancé is riddled with more wealth than he knows what to do with. But, you know that your mother has a special bond with money. It’s the same relationship she has with social standards. Her philosophy is simple; the more, the better. Now, if only your mother felt that way about you.

No, wait. This night is not about you. An evening lost in a grand room of people only appeals to you when the occasion for such torture is your sister’s engagement party. Your chest swells with pride as you watch Mary dance with her fiancé. Michael Barbury is not exactly what you would call ‘prince charming.’ His jokes border on racism and thoughts are somewhat insipid, but he makes Mary happy. That’s all that matters to you. Her relapse in judgement last night does worry you. But you know that she’ll be happy with Michael. With Eros gone, you wonder how soon you’ll find a love like that too.

Mary’s graceful giggles cut you out of your trance. You blink once, twice until your senses fully return to you. Even the smallest thought of him throws you out of your consciousness. Settling your eyes back on your sister, watching as she basks in Michael’s unwavering attention and dotting devotion, you’re greeted with a sense of comfort. The guilt of not speaking your truth disappears and the fear of never finding love dissipates to the back of your mind.

“Miss (Y/N)?” Lee Kyon asks, waving his hand in front of you.

Right, you forgot he was there. Turning to face him once more, you flash Kyon a somewhat kind smile. “Yes, Mr. Lee?”

He furrows his brows. “Is everything alright?”

Perhaps everything would be alright if your mother didn’t constantly feel the need to set you up with the first poor man that accidently looks your way. Yes, you’re well aware of your mother’s behaviour and the fact that Kyon has no real interest in getting to know you. Judging by the way he continues to loop back to the same dull topic about the history of wine, you can tell that he is merely trying to keep the conversation short enough to be polite, but not long enough to be courting you.

It’s not as though you care for his company either. Kyon has half of Michael’s intelligence. Even though you were only half-listening to his rant, you already pick out the few historical inaccuracies in his unprompted explanation. Of course, the worst thing you can do to a man is attack his wits and pride; that’s what your mother tells you anyway. It’s what worried Mary last night too. And you’ve tested that theory enough to know how true it is and how fun it can be. Watching them grapple for the right words, flare their nostrils in frustration and demand you apologize will always be just as humorous as when they try to “teach” you about language or art or, in Kyon’s case, history.

Biting back a sigh, you nod and silently pray for a way out of this boring conversation and into something a bit more exciting.

Clearing his throat, Kyon searches for a way to fill the silence. He then half-heartedly mutters, “You look darling this evening.”

Glancing down at your dress, your face heats up. The tiger lily-peach layers of satin and tulle fall down to your ankles. The pleated skirt mirrors the petals of a flower. Cleavage on display, the long flowy sleeves fall off your shoulders. Finished with a green ribbon around your waist and gleaming pink jewels, this is possibly the best dress he has gifted you.

Your Eros left it, no wait- he’s not yours anymore. A friend left it hanging in your closet one morning after another passionate night in his embrace. It was a beautiful surprise to be woken up to and a manageable struggle to explain how it came into your possession. You can’t help but find it a bit ironic how your mother is desperate to set you up with the first man she sees, but hesitant to dress you up for the occasion. He must have known, must have felt your frustration towards your mistreatment.

It takes everything in you to fight off the smile playing on your lips. You glance back up at Kyon, parting your lips to thank him when he continues, “And how brave of you to wear such a dress.”

You pause. “Brave?”

Kyon smiles and nods.

Is he really telling you what you think he is? Is he really undermining your confidence, undermining the beauty you know you have by commending your ‘bravery?’ No, you mustn’t judge too quickly. Perhaps he’s admiring your choice to go against expectations of covering up with a shawl.

You swallow back your initial assumptions, and decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Lee?”

“Well,” Kyon starts. He looks off to the side and raises both his brows before looking to you once more. His hazel eyes scan your figure, jaw clenching as he clears his throat. “A dress like this is traditionally worn by a woman that looks more like…” he trails off, eyes wandering as well. “Like Miss (L/N).”

A stinging chorus of hushed laughter strikes your pride. Your gut boils with shame and humiliation as your eyes bounce between the partygoers near you. You hadn’t realized they were eavesdropping. As a desperate attempt to ignore their maliciously amused looks, you follow Kyon’s gaze to Mary. Chewing on your lip, you ignore the urge to roll your eyes. This isn’t the first time someone has compared you to her, and you know very well that it won’t be the last. Even the utter disrespect of referring to you by your first name and your sister by your last name further displays their lack of recognition for you. In their eyes, you will forever remain as Miss (Y/N), the spinster-destined sister of Miss (L/N). And though you are certain that the twinge of pain and anger festering in your chest is for Kyon, you can’t help but be a little annoyed with your sister as well.

But then she laughs, smiling so bright and wide. She looks up at Michael and rests her chin on his bicep, reveling in his attention and embrace. You realize, in her moment of happiness, that you can’t find it in you to hold this grudge against her. Your love for her is greater than your pride. Besides, she plays no part in your insecurities. And, you decide as you turn back to Kyon, neither will this privileged upperclassman.

“How brave,” you sigh with a single shouldered shrug.

“What is, Miss (Y/N)?”

“How brave of you to believe anyone cares for your opinion.”

Kyon chokes on his drink. The partygoers, previously humoured by your embarrassment, relish in your courage to upstage Kyon. Gasping a giggle, you step back to avoid being spit on. He glares at you as he wipes his chin. You don’t hesitate to return that hard, hateful look in his eye. Raising a challenging brow, you dare him to attempt to embarrass you again.

He takes one step towards you, looking as though he’s about to grab at your arm when his stride is redirected. Kyon walks away without another word. You stare after him in confusion as he mutters an apology under his breath.

You’re not sure what caused this sudden change in his angry course, but you’re all too happy to be rid of him to dwell on the thought of his motives much longer. He must’ve known how offensive his words were. True, most people compare you to your sister, but at least they have the decency to do it behind your back. You rather be physically absent from a conversation like that. It makes it easier to ignore and avoid the negativity.

Confidence restored, you feel comfortable in your skin again. The dress is a perfect fit, the struggle to breath nowhere to be found, and sits well on your frame- despite what others think. However, you have very little time to revel in your victory as your mother stalks towards you.

“What have you done?” she hisses over your shoulder. Before you even have a chance to look back at her, she drags you by your arm to the edge of the room. “What did you say this time?”

A heavy sigh pushes past your lips as you clasp your hands before you and reply, “He insulted me.”

Your mother quirks a brow. “And?” She questions as if waiting for a more substantial argument.

“And?” You echo in confusion. “And he insulted me. I don’t see why that’s not enough of a reason to insult him back.”

She shakes her head and inhales deeply. You brace yourself for the disparaging rant you know is coming. Nothing good ever comes from a head shake and heavy sigh. But, instead of her usual ‘stay in your place’ harangue, your mother cuts to the chase this time. “Do you realize that might just be your only chance for happiness?”

Suppressing a dry chuckle, you lower your gaze to the floor. You know your mother is well aware of how her question sounds; you know she doesn’t care. Still, you ask, “Is that really what happiness looks like, mother?”

She falls silent. After a beat, you dare to peek up at her. Those once hard eyes soften as her gaze locks on Mary and Michael, locks on how they gaze upon one another with such adoration. Blinking repeatedly, she turns to you and sighs, “Yes, to some people that,” she pauses to glance at Kyon, “is what happiness looks like.”

A wicked pang of sad, lonely anger twists in your chest then tumbles to the pit of your stomach. Your gaze falls to the ground and heart shatters with that last shred of hope that your mother perhaps did want the best for you. Up until now, you truly believed that in some twisted way, she was just looking out for you, making sure you have someone by your side long after she’s gone. Her words now and that shameless look that matches that shameless confession only point to the painfully obvious fact you have tried so hard to ignore. Your mother’s need to make you look a certain way and throw you at any breathing man has never been for your well-being, but rather the well-being of her reputation.

“Go to Mr. Lee, (Y/N),” she orders. “Offer to freshen his drink, wipe down his shirt, and then apologize. Beg for his forgiveness if you have to; just make this right.”

With a deep breath, you trail your eyes back up and try to collect yourself. Your eyes flicker between the exit and where Kyon stands.Your mother clears her throat, drawing your attention back on her.

“Have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal.”

She returns to her friends, that gleeful smile plastered on her face once more. Your eyes fall back on Kyon with every intention of following through your mother’s orders. However, he only greets your gaze with malice. A wave of nausea overwhelms you.

With a shake of your head, you tear yourself away from his threatening demeanour and turn towards the exit. You just need to get out of his line of sight, out of that pretentious atmosphere. Something within you can’t seem to stop telling you that one more moment near that passive-aggressive punk will only make you feel worse. So, you lengthen your strides out of the ballroom and down the hall to put as much distance between you and them.

The pressure of their expectations suffocates you like no corset ever has. All you can think is how desperately you need some fresh air. It takes you a moment, but you navigate your way around the manor well enough to find the back entrance.

Cold air engulfs you the moment you step outside. A relieved giggle slips past your lips and you throw your head back to relish in the cool spring breeze. The sky reflects a swirl of silvery indigo. It lures you into its constellations and wonders with every other glance. Lowering your gaze, you scan the garden before you. A cobblestone path leads all the way down to a hedged maze. You can never resist a good garden. In fact, you had helped design the one back home. You hope that when your husband-to-be comes along, he’d have a garden too and maybe you can design it together.

Realizing you can maybe hold on to a few more moments of peace if they can’t find you, you decide to follow the path and hide away within the walls of the maze. You’re halfway down the cobblestone trail when you sense a strong pull dragging your soul closer to the hedges. Picking up your pace, you follow that tug faster, soon weaving through the maze like you’ve been through it before. It’s not long before you reach the centre.

It’s a large clearing, decorated with a variety of blooming flowers. In the middle stands a grand marble fountain. Three tiered, the fountain sprouts fresh water through the mouths of singing angels. A little smile plays on your lips as you click-clack your way towards it. The tranquil rush of the stream calms your previously erratic heart. You take a seat on the edge and stare down at the pool. It’s empty of floating flowers or little fish like the one you have at home, but still beautiful all the same.

“Miss (L/N).”

Your eyes well up the moment his sweet voice greets your ears. A shaky breath escapes you and you turn to find him. Did he not hear your words last night? Does he not care? Or is he here to stay this time?

Sitting atop the hedges of the garden maze and out of the moon’s light, he looks just as heavenly as always. Most details of his beauty are hidden, but you can make out his long hair and the way it’s pulled back into a ponytail, leaving loose, short strands to frame his face. And those soft wings are out, spread wide behind him as he stares back at you. Shirtless, he smirks.

You can’t help the smile stretching upon your lips at the sight of him. It’s an uncontrollable reflex, as is the wetness of your core when he’s around. He usually doesn’t arrive this early when he does show up. How long has he been there?

Clearing your throat, however, you subside the urge to smile upon his presence. “Mr. Jeon.” His name leaves your lips in a trembling breath as your heart’s aflush with desire. You have to remind yourself that you’re upset with his disappearances.

A sweet smile takes over his features. “I’ve upset you,” he notes.

Is this a joke to him? How many nights does he expect you to wait around for a maybe? You both know your time is worth more than that. And though you want to tell him that he’s done more than upset you, that he’s disappointed you, you confess something else instead. “I’ve missed you.”

“You know I miss you too,” he replies.

You resist the urge to scoff. “Are you working tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I just got off actually.”

Without me? You mentally scold yourself for your dirty thought. You can’t even hold onto your anger for more than thirty seconds without having the urge to spread your legs for him. “Lucky me,” you sarcastically reply.

“Do you like the dress?”

“I’d like it more with the gift from last night,” you glare at him. “If there was a gift from last night, that is.”

Hopping off the edge, his wings fan out to guide him down before you with ease. Your face falls as he stands in the moonlight. Thick mud coats his muscular body and those once white wings are stained with dirt and grim. His sharp face is scratched with little scabs as well. He looks like he fell from the sky.

“Jungkook,” you whisper as you reach out to caress his wounded cheek.

But Jungkook can’t be any less interested in his current state. His attention does not waver off you. Those kind eyes of his scan your frame, lingering around your breasts. “It looks even better than I imagined.”

You feel as though you have to ask him if this really is a joke to him this time. He leaves you for a week with very little behind and returns only to be caked in mud and peppered with wounds and has the audacity to pretend it’s not an issue. Now, you’re upset.

You blink back your tears, quietly asking, “What happened?”

Maybe it was the hurt in your tone or the worry flashing in your eyes but his usually cocky demeanor trembles just enough to comfort you. “It’s just been a long night, baby. I missed a couple of shots and it took a little more effort than usual to fix everything.”

Fidgeting fingers trail up the exposed side of his thick thigh under the stained toga-like skirt he wears. He shudders under your touch as your hands make their way up to his buff chest where they stay. You inhale deeply to settle your erratic heart. The earthy grim of the mud invades your senses. He doesn’t even smell like himself anymore.

Knitting your brows together, you ask, “Are you hurt?”

Jungkook’s entire expression softens. Shaking his head, he goes to cradle your body closer to his but stops before his hands reach your waist. You can feel his desire though, to touch and be touched. It’s raw and real, and purely Jungkook. This shared desire the two of you have roots deep within your souls. It breaks your heart to think that he’s not yours anymore, and maybe you made that decision rashly, in a moment of anger. But, you both know it’s not how you feel right now.

“I need to know your schedule,” you say in a quiet voice. He tongues his cheek, erupting your heart with a surge of want. You ignore the feeling long enough to continue, “I can’t just sit and wait, Jungkook.”

He stares down at you, eyes unreadable. You can tell that he’s mulling over your words, but have no clue how he feels about them. Finally, he cups your cheeks, staining them with dirt, and says “I need you to trust me when I say that I’m doing my best to get to you as quickly as I can, darling.”

Your heart cannot deny him when his gaze reflects such sincerity and honesty. Every ounce of trust, of belief is in him and only him. And maybe you are being selfish, but to be stranded without an explanation is heartbreaking. You know he knows that, or at least feels it in you when you think of him and pray.

“Just tell me I’m yours again,” he whispers, “and I’ll prove to you how much I’ve missed you too.”

Is that why he’s here? He’s afraid of losing you? Biting your lip, you can’t help but lean into his touch. It was mean of you to punish him like this and make him think that you were really upset with him when in actuality, all you wanted was a little more attention. You give him an innocent look through your lashes. He does his best not to swoon, but you know him well enough now to know that the little quiver in his lips means he’s on the verge of getting on his knees.

“No man of mine is this dirty,” you smirk, echoing the words of your first encounter.

Jungkook smiles and this time you have to keep yourself from swooning at the sight of his dimples. “I thought that’s exactly how you like them,” he purrs as he walks you back towards the fountain.

Heat rushes to your face. The marble edge of the fountain hits the bend of your knees but you refuse to sit down with Jungkook only inches away. His hands may still be on your face, rubbing that dirt into your cheeks, but his body is still too far away from yours. You move to take a step forward, desperate to have your body against his. However, Jungkook is quicker, most likely having read your mind, and moves back before you can even get half a step in.

Your eyes harden at the action. Pushing his hands off your face, you quirk a brow.

“I don’t want to ruin your dress.”

“A dress like this is meant to be ruined.”

He smirks. You can tell by the amusement dancing in his eyes that he’s enjoying the sight of you this needy and possessive. He decides to further test the limits of your composure, asking, “Don’t you have a party to get back to?”

He’s teasing. The mockery riddled in his features is enough of a hint, but the playful tone in his voice is still something you bask in. Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, you let out a deep sigh and look up to the clouds. “A flight back home might do us both some good,” you suggest instead. “It’s not like there’s anything waiting for me at the party anyways.”

“Not even your sister?”

You shake your head.

“Mother?”

Face folding, you suppress the urge to groan and whisper, “Oh, gods no.”

Jungkook chuckles as he circles around the fountain. He dips his hand in the clear water, before asking, “What about Lee Kyon?”

Now, what would Jeon Jungkook know of Lee Kyon? A quick scan of his features doesn’t let you in on much besides the fact that he’s trying to draw a reaction out of you. However, what reaction is he hoping for? Is he looking for an explanation? He knows all about your mother’s habits and your relationships, or lack thereof, with mortal men. You never even have to say it; Jungkook knows there’s no one else for you but him.

“Mr. Lee is fragile,” you sigh.

His wings twitch. He likes what he hears. You curl in your lips to keep from smiling. Could he, Eros the god of love, lust and desire, really be jealous of an imbecile? Setting your visual tastes aside for a moment, you and Jungkook both know that Kyon, bless him, knows less than the very fountain you’re sitting on… The very fountain Jungkook is climbing into.

“What are you doing?” You ask, shooting to your feet as Jungkook makes himself comfortable. A giggle tumbles out of you, even though you tried to bite it back, at the sight of him washing himself like a bird.

Jungkook stops for a moment, that playful gaze meeting yours. This one look is enough for you to know he’s heard, and he’s most likely still hearing your thoughts. You wish you could dip in and out of his mind too. It might put an end to all the guessing on your end.

Continuing to splash his torso clean, he replies, “You’re sending me some mixed messages, baby. I thought you didn’t like me dirty.”

He has a point. Making your way over to him, you sit by his submerged frame on the edge of the fountain. Jungkook rubs his lips as he watches your jeweled fingers trace the curves of your cleavage. Your hand stops in the centre, just above the tied strings of your corset. You begin unlacing it when Jungkook tsks. Snapping your gaze to his, you wait for further instructions.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to get in with you.”

“So, get in.”

You move to unlace your corset once more, but Jungkook grabs onto your wrist. Catching his darkening gaze, you furrow your brows at his tilting head. He’s gesturing for you to get in, but won’t let you take off your dress. He can’t serious think you’d get in wearing it the water is filthy with his-

Glancing at the clear water, your thoughts are overtaken by confusion. You expected it to be tinted a dark brown from all the mud but it only reflects the marble bowl of the fountain, Jungkook’s legs, and that growing erection between them. You probably should question him on when he took that skirt off and why the water is so clean even after he went into it with layers of dirt coating his skin, but the heat between your legs is slowly growing more and more insufferable.

Your eyes flicker back to Jungkook’s to find him already staring at you, a smirk painted on his handsome face. He pushes his tongue against his cheek once more, knowing how much you love that move, then quirks a cocky brow. Kicking off your heels, you lift your dress enough to dip each stocking covered foot into the fountain. You hiss at the sensation of the soggy socks against your feet, but power through knowing how much Jungkook loves the way they look on you.

Your dress puffs up to the surface and you have to push it down and back to put as little space between you and Jungkook. “Your hair’s filthy,” you pout as you finally straddle his lap.

Jungkook lets out a little sigh. You first think it’s because his cock stands right in front of your pussy, but soon realize how wrong you are. His dazed gaze wanders over your features, unsure where to stop and what to admire first. Those large hands instinctively find your thick thighs. He rubs and massages them as you untie his hair and wet your hands enough to wash some of the dirt away. You tilt his head back and lick your lips. It’s a habit you have when concentrating. Jungkook knows it well.

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he suddenly purrs. His voice is thick, saturated with lust and adoration. “Honestly, you don’t have to do anything, darling, just let me look at you for a little bit.”

You freeze, hands half tangled in his mud slick hair, and gaze back down at him. Dipping your head down, your lips catch his. You’re obsessed with the lack of hesitation between the two of you. Never has Jungkook thought twice about taking you as his when the two of you are this close. No matter how long he’s gone or how upset you may feel about that, when you find each other again, it’s almost like he never left. Your souls rapture in harmony and bodies tangle indefinitely. Eternity lies in the palms of your hands every second you're together.

“I’ve got to clean your hair,” you mutter against his lips. He only hums before kissing you again. Inhaling sharply, you let him have another sip of your breath before pulling away completely. And you realize, as you glance at his wings, that they could probably use a good scrub down too before the two of you indulge in the good fun you’ve been dying to have all week.

Before you can vocalize this, however, Jungkook is already readjusting your shared position. He tucks his wings tight behind him and shifts the two of you around so that the stream of the fountain washes down his back. “Hurry,” he orders. There’s very little room for negotiation in his tone. His appetite for a fun night is growing too and you can’t help but smile at the eagerness you’ve triggered.

Sticking your tongue out, you hook it under his chin and tilt his head back. Jungkook continues to gaze down at you as he gives into your gesture. “That’s hot,” he mutters.

This is new. He never talks this much when things start to heat up. Most of the time, you’re tossed looks and expected to decipher his mood, but you’re all too caught up in how gorgeous he is, you can barely understand what he means. Everything is always based on feelings and going with your instincts. But this time, Jungkook’s more vocal. It’s almost as if he’s thinking out loud.

His wings twitch again. You snap your gaze from his hair to his eyes and find he’s raising a brow. Didn’t you wish you could hear his thoughts too? Could this be his way of granting it to you?

“You know what I like most about you?” He asks as you continue to wash the mud from his hair. Grazing your nails through his scalp, you hum in reply. “You’re incredibly intelligent.”

Your fingers shudder against his head. The guilt of last night returns. Your sister should be with someone who isn’t afraid of her intelligence either. You should’ve told her not to follow through with this, not to marry Michael.

Jungkook’s hands trail up to your ass, gripping onto the plump flesh. The harsh gesture snaps you back into the moment. You jump a bit and let out a little squeal as your gaze meets his. “I much rather you don’t think of other men when you’re with me,” he groans.

Fighting off the proud smile tempting your lips, you nod. “Sorry; it won’t happen again.”

“Better not,” he mutters and that smile finally settles on your lips. “And don’t worry about your sister. She’ll be fine.”

A part of you wants to question him more about how he knows that, but the death grip he has on your ass and the way he’s looking at you does not leave much room for a sexless conversation. You rather your family stay out of conversations like this with Jungkook. His desire to be the only one in your thoughts makes a bit more sense to you now.

Smiling, Jungkook inhales deeply through his nose. “You figure things out faster than most people,” he says.

You kiss the little freckle under his lip to let him know you’re done cleaning his hair. “You spend too much time in my head,” you tease. Instead of in my… The rest of the sentence twirls in your mind for him to find it.

As you move to clean his right wing he chuckles and continues, “I’m serious, baby.” He kisses your neck as you stand on your knees and reach for his wing to properly clean it off. “Your mind amazes me. That’s why I spend so much time there.”

Barriers of the mind fall. They were trembling before but now, with every whispered thought Jungkook voices, you can feel those walls of distance crumble around your inseparable bodies. You’ve always melded perfectly physically and stroked the other’s spirit by caressing your souls, but mental barriers have always halted any real conversation between you and Jungkook. He’s always been able to know your next move, your every thought because of his immortality. And to have the chance to do the same only makes you feel that much closer to him. For this reason, you hope he doesn’t regret opening up to you and giving you a little peek inside his mind.

Your physical senses shock you back to the moment. His fingers soften their grip on your ass, rubbing it instead and your pussy reactively clenches at that pet name you love so much. Unsteadily inhaling deeply, you move to clean his other wing in silence. You decide you won’t talk this time. Your mind is open to him if he’s looking for your opinion, but tonight you just want to hear his thoughts and be the one tossing unreadable looks.

Jungkook chuckles against your neck, rolling his shoulders back as you brush your fingers through his wings. His lips trail down to your collarbone. He kisses his way down to your breasts and buries his face between them. Breathing in your scent, he sighs happily and mutters, “This is my favourite thing.”

Your breasts? By the way his hands always settle on your ass and the fact that his first hand-delivered toy was an anal plug, you always just assumed that his favourite feature of yours must be your ass. But you suppose if your breasts-

“Actually, I was talking about the way you smell.”

“It’s called soap,” you tease, earning yourself a light spank. He then bites on your right tit, sucking on the skin just because he can. You giggle and settle yourself back on his lap. Your ass, plush and plump, all but melts over his muscular thighs.

Jungkook stares at you. His brown eyes are vacant and lost in thought. He quiets under your gaze, only just shifting to pull you closer than you already are. Your pussy frames the length of his cock and you find it increasingly hard to stay still. Trying to read that dazed expression on his face, you wonder what happened with his devotion to thinking out loud.

Licking his lips, Jungkook finally breaks the silence. “Twenty-three.” He leans towards you turning the two of you back around so his back is against the fountain’s edge again. “I want you in twenty-three different ways, but I don’t think we have time to do all of them.”

You swallow thickly. Grinding your hips into his, you rub your needy pussy against his throbbing erection. Jungkook’s eyes slightly roll back and he has to hold your hips down only to look at you properly again. “Can we make time?” You ask. The desperate cry for more is evident in your voice and you know that, by the quirk of his brow and the shudder of his wings, he’s having trouble saying no.

“I wish,” he confesses. “My favourite ones take time.”

His fingers dig into your ass again, hinting at what his favourite positions might be. It’s no surprise that it has to do with your ass, you’re just worried that he’s going to ask for more than you’re ready for. Yes, you may have gotten used to anal plugs over time since he knows how to prep you for them, but his cock is an entirely different game. You are constantly reminded of how those other toys really are just toys because his cock is that uncomparable.

Jungkook relaxes back against the marble wall and watches you as you salivate over the size of his cock. He doesn’t need to read your mind to know you're terrified of whatever pain may come with it but excited because you’re just that much of a whore for him.

“You know you don’t have to do it. I have lots of other favourites,” he smirks.

As your thoughts trail off, he bucks his hips into yours. You breathe moan and clutch onto his shoulders. Every little movement makes you ache for more. A week without a single bit of sexual stimulation, even by yourself, is too long. He never told you that you couldn’t play around alone anymore, but when you have him, why the hell would you play with yourself? You know he’s going to come every night, or at least you hope he is. And the truth is, one he must already know judging by the pleased look in his eyes, even if he had told you he wasn’t coming, you still wouldn’t have touched yourself. Nothing can compare to his touch; you don’t need to try anything else to know this.

A shaky breath escapes Jungkook at your next mental confession. You don't think you were ever really mad at him. You just knew that acting out would get him to come tonight. Jungkook scoffs, looking up at the darkening sky as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Are you even really sorry? His eyes dart to yours as if wanting to see for himself if your thoughts are true. You don't know if you can answer this question with his eyes on you like that. But, that conclusion seems to be enough of an answer for him.

He shakes his head and wraps his arms around your waist. Pouting, he asks, “Do you know how worried I was?”

You mirror his expression, drawing a pout in your features as well, and press your chest against his. His breath hitches and body melts into yours, betraying his intentions. Noticing his struggle to stay upset with you, you pepper wet kisses under his chin and along his jawline.

Jungkook can’t resist you for much longer. He whimpers as his hips grind into yours. Bending at your every touch, he unravels beneath you. A giddy smile breaks your pouty features and it’s only then that he seems to realize how much he’s let himself go in front of you. His grip on your hips hardens. As you kiss up his face, you find his lust-stuck eyes dark with dominance. He hates being vulnerable to your touch this much.

“No, baby,” he rasps. You quirk a brow. “I hate how drunk you get off the power.”

A proud smirk twitches on the corner of your lips, confirming his words. You’ve barely had taste for the power he’s accusing you of getting drunk off of. However, the fact that you’re able to control him so well with such a small dose fills your heart with pride.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“I am?”

There’s a certain cocky pitch in your tone that rings sharply to his ears. His brows twitch, wings flutter, and gaze wavers. He may have been able to look past your exaggerations of dismissal and the way you tease him, but to speak to him with very little regard for his power unleashes something primal within him. You can always tell you’ve really pissed him off when he pouts, clenches his jaw, and breathes so steadily, you can barely hear him.

Jungkook watches you carefully. “One week without my dick and suddenly you think you own it?”

“Don’t I?”

A sharp smack lands on your ass. The slow draft of the water does not slow his hands down. In fact, it only increases the sting and accuracy. You gasp and fall forward against him only to be spanked again. Another moan leaves you, this time with your lips hovering over his. Exchanging breathes, a dangerous thought occurs to you. Your lips are over his. What’s to stop you from spit-

He growls. You tremble against him. The purely thunderous rumble in his chest rattles your soul. “I fucking dare you,” he hisses.

Though you want to heed his warning, you can’t help but notice how he keeps his mouth open despite his disapproval. You gather what you have in your mouth and pause for a moment, knowing that he knows what you’re about to do. His mouth remains open. You drop the wad of spit it without a second thought.

Jungkook swallows it almost immediately. “You’re going to regret that,” he breathes.

“I highly doubt that,” you smirk.

The cocky persona you seemed to have picked up from him crumbles when his middle finger pushes between your cheeks and circles your tightest hole. His words about his favourite ways to fuck you return to you in distant echoes. You arch your back and push your ass into his hand. His finger threatens to slip in.

“You’re barely ready,” he scoffs.

Do you harbour reservations based on fears that he just might be too big to fit in your ass? Of course you do; he’s huge. A fact of which he can’t help but always smirk at when you point it out. But, you’re hungry for him and you know that he would never do anything to hurt you. Letting out a shaky breath, you affirm, “I can take it.”

“You aren’t wet enough.”

“Then, change that.”

The continuous authority that drips in your tone has tested his patience for the last time. Reaching a hand out of the fountain, Jungkook grabs for something on the ground. You try to lean over him and sneak a peek at what he’s looking for, but the friction of your clit against his length has you shuddering back in place.

A little smile breaks Jungkook’s previously callous expression. He pecks your neck and laughs quietly against your skin as he mutters, “You’re adorable.”

Heat rushes down to your core instead of your face at the little praise. You lean down to press a gentle kiss to his lips when you catch a glimpse of something gold in your peripherals. Glancing up, you find him clutching onto his bow. Before you have the chance to ask what he’s planning, Jungkook only just drops the tip of his bow in to break the surface of the water. A misty rose gold tints the clarity. Little flicks of sparkling gold twinkle back at you as you watch the fountain filter the essence all around you.

You cautiously meet gaze. He always confirms new things with you before acting on anything, no matter how mad or horny he is. His rash decision to spike the fountain with an unknown substance chills your blood for a second. You start to shift back from him a bit when he breaks the silence.

“It’s just a lubricant,” he quickly explains. A relieved breath, you didn’t realize you were holding, leaves you. Shifting back against him, you nudge your nose against his. “Sex is a bit different underwater, baby, and I don’t have time to get you as ready as you need to be.”

A gentle nibble on his lip is all it takes for the rush of the fountain to be the only sound in the silence that settles upon you. His hands guide your hips against his, the fiction much smoother now with that hint of lubrication swirling around. You run a hand through his hand and tug his head back to be greeted with the sweet rumble of his laughter. You can’t help but giggle with him as you place soft kisses along the side of his neck.

Jungkook quietly moans in little whines and breathless gasps. Every shudder of his wings and furrow of his brows makes you want to rip your dress off and be just as naked and against him. But, then again, there’s something powerful to the taste of being fully clothed and still destroying a man’s composure. You barely have to do anything and Jungkook bends to your every will. You can now understand why he believes you’re so drunk on power, but the truth is you always had this power. He knows this, most likely wanting you to realize it too if he’s the one that suggested you stay clothed. The only difference now is that he’s openly displaying the ways you unravel him rather than keeping it to himself.

“Do you see what I mean now?” He asks in a breathless whisper. You trail your kiss up to his cheek and moan against it as he continues, “You’re so smart and beautiful and precious.”

Jungkook pauses, stilling your hips and pulling his face away from yours to look into your eyes. He parts his lips to speak but his words keep falling short somehow.

His words so far have already ignited an untamable fire not only between your legs, but within your bones as well. He is drenched in every part of you. Shifting to a softer touch, you untangle your fingers from his damp hair and cup his cheeks the same way he had done to you not too long ago. “Go on,” you tease, tossing him a playful look.

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even smirk. His eyes, though hinted with amusement, continue to be lost in some sort of trance. He knows you’re curious, but keeps this little bit of thought to himself. Lifting your hips, he hovers your entrance over his erection and finally smirks.

“Beg a little,” he orders. Though his voice barely carries to the other side of the fountain, the authority in his tone is still as clear and hard as it always is.

Your power trip must have really messed with him if he’s having you beg without giving you a good reason to. An annoyed sigh fans against your collarbone as your body continues to hover over his. “Don’t play,” he rasps, “You know that’s not it. I can hear the truth before the lie, darling.”

That’s an unfair advantage but one you don’t mind too much if it means he talks to you like this all the time. He’s right too. You know that’s not what’s got him eager to hear you beg. It’s the way you beg that’s got him eager to fuck you. Clenching around emptiness, needy to be filled and ruined, you whine a tiny “please,” then a string of profanities as his tip strokes its way to your entrance from your clit.

“Again.”

Back arched, breasts against his bare chest, and hands clutched onto his biceps, you place your lips on the shell of his ear and blow a gentle breeze against it. “Please,” you mewl.

Jungkook’s hands tremble and he all but drops you on his cock. Pussy in an instant stretch, with very little room to adjust, you cry out in his ear. Though your voice may be broken and pitchy, Jungkook doesn’t flinch. When it comes to you, the usual results never qualify. You are one of a kind, as unique as him.

His muscles flex under your palms. Hands finding their place on your ass again, Jungkook guides your thrusts. He can practically feel your weakening body with every bounce and grind against him. You know he can. He shows it in every tightening grip on your ass and grunt in his moans.

The knot in your stomach is already twisting, conspiring against your better judgement on how long you think you can last. You’ve never been able to outlast him, cumming twice before he finally reaches his first orgasm of the night. He’s just so big and hits those right places way before the rest of him can catch up. How he manages to brush up against your softest spots within the first three thrusts will always be beyond your comprehension. He’s just that good.

The choked moan that leaves him resembles a chuckle. A frustrated whine escapes you. Is he still listening to your thoughts? It’s not like you’re thinking anything he already hasn’t heard you say, or rather scream, but it still somewhat embrassasses you to know that he will always hear how whipped you are for him.

“Tell me,” you plead with your lips pressed just under his ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

The sparkling water around you begins to splash out of the fountain bowl as Jungkook speeds up the pace of your bounces. Deciding your ass seems to be too much of a distraction to him, you pause mid-thrust and move his hands up to your hips. A shuddering gasp escapes him as you carry on with the bounces at his same pace. Your ass claps in and out of the water, thrashing water all around the ground.

Jungkook digs his short nails into the flesh of your hips, growling every time you whine at his tightening grip. Forehead against his, you catch his gaze and offer an innocent one. “I’m-” he cuts himself off, realizing how breathless and dazed he sounds. You nuzzle your face into his as a silent attempt to encourage him to continue. “Kiss me,” he begs.

If you weren’t stuffed full of his cock and extremely enchanted by the way he pretends to sound composed, you would’ve refused to kiss him and insisted that he finish that sentence. And that knot in the pit of your gut only tightens with the grip of your pussy. Pressing your lips against his, you slip your tongue in and let him swallow your moans.

The moment his tongue tackles yours, your legs quake. Thrusts hesitating, your body begins to spasm against his. Your hands grapple at his shoulder just to ensure you stay a float as your threatening orgasm continues to build.

“Jungk-” You break the kiss to tell him, to ask as he has taught you over and over again.

But Jungkook only latches his lips onto yours once more. You gulp down a moan or two of his before he hisses against your lips, “Just fucking cum. Now, kiss me.”

You may have been drunk off power not too long ago, but as you kiss him again, you realize that he is drunk off you. And that’s all it takes for your ograsm to finally rush over you. Jungkook lifts his hips up to meet your stuttering ones. Your lips fall off his. Face buried in the crook of his neck, you cry out his name and cream all over his cock.

“I’m thinking you’re such a good girl for cumming like this,” he suddenly whispers as you ride out your orgasm. Even with your ears ringing and mind shuddering from the second wave of cum gushing all over his hard, huge cock, you can still hear every dirty praise clearly. “My whore got herself off so well.”

The whine that escapes you from his words alone is borderline pornographic. Jungkook even feels it, arching his back so his chest collides with yours as well. “You’re so sexy,” he whimpers as you babble fountain water by his shoulder from exhaustion.

Wet, wet, wet; everything is wet. You’re both drenched in lube tinted waters, cum, and your desires. You can’t revel in it though, as the skirts of your dress float the surface and corset clings to your chest all too tightly. You can barely find it in you to breathe, let alone tell him that you need a quick break.

“No,” he groans, settling you on his thighs. Circling his hips into yours, Jungkook grips onto the nape of your neck to peel you off him.

Your heart stumbles as your mind races to figure out what you’ve done that was so wrong, he’s wanting to stop the night here. “I’m sorr-”

“You don’t need a break,” he sighs between moans. He sits himself up, his wings extending only to drape over the lip of the fountain’s bowl. All movements underwater cease as he digs his fingers into the bust of your corset. In one swift motion, Jungkook tears the first few laces apart, instantly sending a full batch of oxygen to your lungs.

Gasping, you gaze down at your torn dress before glaring at him. Maybe with just a wet dress, you could have explained your way out of whatever mess this is going to get you in when you attempt to return to the party. However, a torn dress will not be that easy to explain. You want to glare at him and tell him off but he shoves his face between your now exposed breasts and moans before you’re able to.

He moves your hands up his shoulders so your arms drape over them, then settles them on his favourite place; your ass. Two of his fingers push between your cheeks and stroke your hole. His touch there is much smoother than before and you suspect that it must be the bow-tipped lube.

You moan quietly, resting your chin atop his damp head as he kisses and bites at your breasts. Your pussy still hasn’t recovered from your orgasm seconds ago. In fact, truth be told, your entire body is having trouble recuperating after cumming that hard in a week. But you want more of him and he still hasn’t filled you of his godly load yet. And with his fingers circling around your asshole, you can’t deny him the second ride he’s patiently waiting for.

A slow grind of hips into hips is a good start, you tell yourself. You’ve never really had to deal with this before, since Jungkook would usually just keep pounding into you despite the fact that he knows your limbs are exhausted from one orgasm already. Clenching your jaw, you start to bounce again, ass clapping against his thighs in suppressed thumps underwater. The overstimulated pleasure brings tears to your eyes. You cry out his name and hold onto his wings.

He groans against your right breast from the contact. You’re about to apologize, knowing his wings are sensitive, when he shoves his fingers into your tightest hole. You freeze and throw your head back from how easily he slipped in and how fucking good it feels. Jungkook scissors his fingers within you, peeking a glance up from between your breasts.

“Are you okay, baby?” he slurs. He licks up the valley of your breasts, holding your gaze shamelessly.

“Mhm,” you mewl.

Resuming your thrusts, you feel your tears run down your face freely. You don’t even have it in you to wipe them away. Your hands, instead, centre around his back. You scratch at it for a bit until you feel him add a finger. Moans tumble into his wet hair as your fingers trail up the length of his spine.

Jungkook stiffens. A choked groan tears from his throat and he hides his face further into your breasts. They bounce around his cheeks with each hop on his cock. Too consumed by your own overstimulated pleasure to dwell much thought on his movements, or lack thereof, you mindlessly repeat the action. You stroke his spine once more and then you hear it.

He sobs a moan.

You still your hips, looking down at him. As you run a hand through his hair, you’re about to ask if he’s okay when the whooshing flutter of wings obscures your vision. One second, you’re straddling his lap with his fingers in your ass. The next, you’re the one submerged in the water with him hovering over you. Wings fully extended, face stained with tears, Jungkook makes sure your arms are resting over his shoulders like before then takes up a deadly speed of thrusts into you.

His speed defies the laws of physics, hips moving much faster than they should underwater. Half the fountain is on the ground from the force of his movement. All you can do is sob with him as your body becomes his only source of pleasure.

What’s gotten into him? He doesn’t even have an interest in your ass anymore, hands locked in a death-like grip on your hips. In a moment of pure animalistic pleasure, you just wish you knew what’s running through his head.

“You,” he growls in a pout. “You’re all I think about, you fucking whore. You’re all I can ever think about.” He swallows thickly before continuing, “You can’t go one second without thinking of me and now all I can hear is your voice. All the time; it’s you, you, you.”

You don’t know if you should apologize or cum from the simple confession alone. His voice, his words, his entire fucking attitude has you aching to cum all over again.

Jungkook stumbles over his chuckles. “You just love seeing me like this, huh? You love seeing me worship you, baby?”

Worship. Does he want you to cum that badly that he’s willing to lie? You both know he doesn’t worshi-

A sharp thrust derails your thoughts. Your eyes roll back as you moan out his name.

“You’re my goddess,” he confesses. “You’re my only goddess.”

He repeats the phrase over and over again until that’s all that rings in your ear, in your heart, in your soul. His release paints your tightening walls. The knots within your gut have unraveled long ago and it’s only when your blurred vision somewhat clears and convulsing body trickles into tremors do you realize that you’ve both cum together to the words he’s still repeating.

Voice a tiny, gruff whisper, Jungkook whispers, “My goddess.”

He’s serious. He must be. He truly worships you. The tears in his eyes, the break in his voice, the truth is clear and just as starkly bare as he is between your legs. His eyes suddenly flash with worry, almost as if he’s recognized what he’s said. He meant what he said, you realize, but he never meant to say it.

Jungkook gingerly pulls out of you as you try to seat yourself up. You pull your legs into your chest and watch him take a seat beside you. He leans his head back against the rim of the fountain and gazes up at the sky. You follow his gaze, noticing it’s gotten much darker out, the silver stream of stars piercing an indigo backdrop no more. A midnight black cloaks the world above you, a crescent moon lighting up your night and an array of stars twinkling down at you. Though your mind is still foggy from your recent orgasms, body still shuddering, you can’t help but think about his words. What makes him think you belong up there, amongst true gods and goddesses?

His wings twitch as they tuck themselves behind him. You know that combination well. He’s hiding something. Usually, you don’t ask, knowing he will only deflect the topic and shower you with attention and praises instead. But, his spoken thoughts are now looping around your mind, begging to be answered.

“Jungkook,” you mutter, shifting closer to him. Face still stained with tears, he forces himself to look at you. The questions are on the tip of your tongue; what, why, when? However, as you part your lips all you can bring yourself to say is, “I didn’t hear anything.”

You’re my goddess.

The words return with ten times the force they previously held. It’s almost like denying their existence is just as blasphemous as saying them. You swallow thickly and try to extract the words from your mind, but it's too late. They are as entrenched in your bones as your affection for him is. There is no undoing what has been done.

You bring a hand up to his face and wipe away the stray tears. He melts into you almost immediately. Maybe it’s best if you return to the party now. You can make up some excuse as to why you’re drenched and torn on your way there. Jungkook’s state is all but worrying and you feel as though you shouldn’t be witnessing this.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he finally says. His voice has regained composure and tone controlled. No more does he choke on his words or laughter. The authority he indirectly bestowed upon you has been returned to him.

You should tell him you’re done, that he shouldn’t say things he doesn’t mean to. You should tell him that he shouldn’t play with your feelings or your heart like this. But, again, the words wither away the moment you part your lips to voice them. And, instead, you ask, “How do you want me?”

Jungkook smirks. His hands snake around your hips and lift you up onto his lap. Back to his chest, you make yourself comfortable, leaning into him. He pushes the excess fabric of your dress aside just to get you as close as possible. Then, you feel it against your ass, pushing its way between your cheeks. His erection is just as hard as when you started. It’s no wonder why he’s not done with you yet. You suppose he didn’t just confess something he can’t take back only to still leave with a full hard-on.

“I thought you didn’t hear anything,” he whispers in your ear as his hands cup the underside of your thighs.

You nervously look at him over your shoulder. “I didn’t.”

He chews on your earlobe, warm tongue caressing your jaw. “I should stop thinking about it,” he whimpers against your skin. “I should stop thinking about you.”

I’m not a goddess, you want to tell him. But, by the way he sucks in a sharp breath, you can tell he’s heard and isn’t impressed. He opens his mouth to say something, maybe to scold you for degrading yourself, or to correct you. The words never arrive.

Jungkook shakily exhales. No more trips into his thoughts it would seem. He remains silent as he spreads your legs and swiftly lifts you up. You expect another harsh round into your pussy but his tip shoves its way through your asshole instead. Throwing your head back, you try to suppress your scream by holding your breath.

It doesn’t hurt as much as it usually does during the first initial thrust of a toy. Whatever he tinted the water with must be the result of a smooth entrance, and a deliciously blissful stretch. You let out a breath you held, along with a loud, high-pitched squeal. Jungkook folds you up well, holding the bend of each knee into your chest as he continues to slowly lower you onto him.

Once you finally take him all in, you settle your entire body back into him. Shuddering breaths, drifting eyes, you hold him deep within you and try not to completely lose yourself in a fit of moans and pleads. You don’t even know what you’d be begging for, just that a string of “pleases” will leave you.

Are you getting bigger, you mentally ask.

He chuckles and shakes his head as his nose nuzzles into your cheeks. He can’t get enough. Inhaling you deeply, you realize that he can’t get enough of you. He even said so in so many words. And you don’t have much of a problem with that considering you can’t ever get enough of him either. You’ve consumed all of his thoughts it would seem and he’s even lost himself to you so much so that he’s declared you his one and only god-

“Fuck!”

The stream of the fountain rushes down on your clit. He holds you straight beneath it as his hips move up and down against your ass. You’re at his total mercy, every thought of ever being in control a complete joke. You rest your head against his shoulders, trembling hands placed over his as a desperate attempt to control yourself.

Your first water wave induced orgasm hits you within seconds. You don’t know for sure, but you’re all but certain that you’re cumming. Your eyes have been screwed shut for a while, and body shaking since this endeavor in the fountain began. Only when you try to close your legs do you confirm that you indeed came.

Jungkook keeps them open though. He ignores your pathetic scratches on his knuckles as you try to explain to him that it’s all just too fucking much for you to take. “Just let me cum,” he tries to soothe between little hushes and murmurs about how good you’re taking his cock.

But then your second orgasm from the fountain hits and you can’t stop squirming in his hold. He keeps you folded and under the water’s subjection nonetheless, somehow even cooling the temperature down. As you shiver under the cold rush, Jungkook positions you higher against him so that the water pours into you instead. You realize, pussy clean of his cum now, that you’re getting fucked by a fountain; a fountain that he controls. And you fucking love it.

Then, there’s the fullness of your ass. Every inch of you is his. If you’re his goddess, he must know that he’s your god. Your one and only.

“Careful,” he warns against your thoughts.

You have an assful of his cock in you, getting off more times than you can both count in a fountain that does not belong to either of you; when have the two of you ever been careful? In fact, your recklessness is what brought you together. Had he not seen you on your balcony every night, he might not be here at all. Carelessness runs in your veins, laced in your tone as you cry out, “You’re my god!”

The clouds rumble above you. The heavens can warn all they want. Interrupting sexual endeavors would do them more harm than it would do you.

“If you want to cum, you’ll behave,” Jungkook hisses. His thrusts suddenly snap into something primal.

Your body bounces every time, water rushing down your clit once more. This time you feel your orgasm build, and fast. Toes curling, eyes rolling to the back of your head, you hold onto every twisting, clenching knot at the pit of your stomach.

“Ask!”

“Please?”

A particular ram into your ass lets you know that half-hearted plea won’t get you very far. He doesn’t deign to repeat himself. Instead, he lets his harsh movements and bone-rattling growls speak for him.

“Please let me cum, Jungkook, please.”

“Again.”

“Please, please, please, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t say it. But you feel it. You feel the approval in the form of a gentle kiss against your ear. Hips a craze, rolling against the wave, you clench your jaw and try to channel all your pleasure in a high-pitched moan rather than the cry your lungs are desperate to let out. Your cum gushes then, juices squirt seconds later. Entire body on fire, under the scrutiny of the stream as you try and fail to recollect yourself. You’re shattered, ruined, obliterated by his cock and this fountain of fantasies.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos. “That’s my good girl.”

His. His. Gods, the things you would do to be his always, not just under the cover of the night. Jungkook releases your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist as he grounds your ass over his hips. Load after load shoots within you, making your giggle and shake with ecstasy at the filling sensation of being stuffed so well.

“Ah-yah, baby,” he groans in a scowl against your jawline. “You’ve got the tightest little hole for me, hmm? If you weren’t so exhausted, I’d have us do this all over again.”

Exhaustion. Yes, that’s what you’re feeling. With your mind foggy and broken from the countless orgasms he’s sent through you, you can barely find it in you to breathe, let alone think to go for another round. Your body’s only excuse for staying afloat is the winged god behind you. He clutches onto you as if his only reason for surviving is you. And judging by his previous confession, that very well might be the case.

Jungkook rests back against the fountain’s edge once he’s done. Gasping for air, he continues to hold onto you, kissing your shoulder mindlessly. “I never really know how much I miss you until I have you,” he whispers. His teeth graze your supple skin.

Body limp, you can’t find it in you to reply. All you can think is after he pulls out, he’s going to fly back to Gods know where and leave you to hobble back to the party alone. After all, isn’t that how every night ends? You two share a passionate few moments, both have out of body experiences when orgasming, then you fall asleep and he sneaks away. What’s to say this night won’t be any different?

“I thought I told you to trust me?”

“I do.”

He scoffs. You don’t blame him. Your words are hardly convincing. It has nothing to do with the fact that you just came five or six different times. It’s the lack of commitment in your tone that tips him off. You hear it too. You really do trust him. He’s just let you down too many times to count.

“What more do I need to do? I’m with you every chance I get.”

Exhaustion. It’s not a physical one, not the one you’re still recovering from. It’s one of the mind. He’s exhausted with this back and forth. You are too. This isn’t exactly what you thought your first relationship would look like.

He pauses, body freezing beneath you.

Oh, right. He’s in your mind. He heard that. Is that not what this is, though? Isn’t this a relationship?

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say it,” You repeat, looking at him over your shoulder.

Jungkook starts to soften in you. You’ve really set him off now. He lifts you up and off his cock, sitting you on his thigh and ignoring the way you hiss and whine at the discomfort. You turn to glare at him over your shoulder only to find him already glaring at you.

“Do you want me to come back?”

Is he threatening you? “Do I have to remind you who came here begging-”

“You lied!” He cuts you off with a shout.

“You knew that, though. You knew I was lying,” you point out, a pout starting to overtake your features. “You came because you missed me.”

“That’s never been a secret.”

“Say it then, Jungkook. Say this is a relationship.”

He falls silent. His once annoyed eyes can’t even meet yours.

“I know you’re jealous of Lee Ky-”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffs. Shaking his head, he forces himself to meet your gaze.

Sad tears vary drastically from blissful ones. Tears of bliss soothe the pleasure and make it bearable. Tears of sadness sting your eyes, pierce your heart and shed any part of you that can make such a situation bearable. Sad tears only remind you of your pain.

Your eyes sting with despair as he regards you with such frustration. Emptying your mind, discarding all thoughts, you ask, “Are you coming tomorrow?”

Jungkook sighs, but not a beat of hesitance affects his answer. “Of course.”

You raise a brow. See?

“Fine. This is a relationship,” he mutters. “What does that change?”

Nothing. It hasn’t changed a thing. You don’t even feel any different, any better. Maybe it’s because you forced it out of him? You don’t know. The tears only fall faster though, and you can’t bear to look at him. Your heart’s conflicted, shattered and replaced all at once because, though he is the cause of your tears, his presence is also the only thing soothing them. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your temple over his.

You can at least relish in his company for a few moments longer. And his scent, that intoxicating waft of creamy coconut and sweet peony orchards returns now that all that mud and grime has been washed off. The scent is comforting enough for you to relax in his arms and forget your pain for a second.

“That’s not what I smell like,” he whispers. You tilt your head away to get a better look at him. A little smirk tugs on the corner of his lip as he says, “It’s what you smell like.”

Impossible. He’s always smelled like at the end of every night. You’d cuddle into his chest and inhale a breathful of the tropical scent. How could that be what you smell like if he reeks of it? The knowing look in his eyes is enough of a hint for you to realize you know the answer. He’s dripping with your essence every night because he spent the night in you. You wonder if you smell like him too.

He sighs, circling his arms lazily around your waist. He deeply inhales your skin, smiling against it, but doesn’t answer your mentally posed question. Damp hair clinging to the sides of your faces, you settle in the other’s company. One of his hands rises from the water and wipes away your tears. As you sniffle, he whispers, “I promise I’m-”

“Doing the best you can,” you croak, finishing his sentence with him.

Yes, yes. You’ve heard it all before. You don’t think he’s lying, your Eros is no liar. You do believe that he is, in fact, doing the best he can. But if his best is only a few hours every night, you’re not sure you can accept that. And, yet, you also can’t find it in you to truly, with all your heart, reject it as well.

He needs to prove his devotion to you in another way. A risky thought then tiptoes into your mind. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you take a deep breath and ask, “Could you do me a tiny favour?”

Jungkook’s hesitant to meet your gaze. He glances at you through his peripherals, otherwise keeping his gaze locked on your breasts. Whether he’s trying to distract himself or not, you still push them out a bit in hopes that they will grant you the “yes” you’re hoping to hear.

He nods.

With a little kiss upon his cheek, you stroke his shoulder with the soft tips of your fingers and ask, “Would you please escort me to my sister’s wedding?”

He turns his head away from you. Staring across at the other side of the garden, Jungkook withdraws from you. His hands fall off your frame as he heavily sighs. You press yourself against him, trying to regain his attention but he only shakes his head.

“Acting cute won’t make this any easier,” he grumbles.

You huff and slouch against him. “How about just the rehearsal dinner?” You try to negotiate. When he rolls his eyes, you quickly add, “I’ll be stuck with Kyon and honestly I don’t think I handle another minute of his incorrect reilieration about history.”

Jungkook snaps his head towards you at the mention of another man. You cock a brow to which he only scoffs at. “You’re being obnoxious,” he seethes. “And unbelievably selfish.”

“So?” you question before you can stop yourself. His words sting, slicing through your confidence all too easily. There isn’t much room for thinking and even if there was, he would be listening to them anyways. So, you might as well say what you want out loud. “Was it not selfish of you to make me wait-”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m not going to repeat myself, (Y/N). You can’t keep telling me that you trust me only to keep bringing this up. I was busy. You had to wait. It didn’t kill you.”

Your tears have returned. He rolls his eyes at the sight. Whatever remnants of your heart you thought you had has been obliviated. “You make me feel so loved,” you whisper as your hands retract from his body.

Jungkook’s expression disarms all hostility. His eyes reflect regret but you’ve heard, seen all you need to.

“But why do you only make me feel this way when we’re naked?”

“You’re not naked,” he’s quick to reply.

It’s your turn to scoff. How can a god be this dense? “Aren’t I, though? Tell me, Jeon Jungkook, whose thoughts are open for the other to hear? Who is the one waiting, praying for the other’s attention? Who has been bare since first glance on the stupid balcony you left last night?”

Before he couldn’t meet your eye out of disinterest, but now he avoids your gaze out of guilt. Yes, you’ve been obnoxious, selfish, maybe even a little entitled. However, you’ve had a god to yourself for months. You’ve had endless moments of ecstasy that only end in soft cuddles and whispered sweet nothings into the night. Is wanting that attention when the sun hasn’t set yet too much to ask?

Jungkook parts his lips to reply when his eyes suddenly shoot up. He sits up, almost knocking you off his lap and snaps his head towards the very pathway you came from.

“(Y/N)!”

You gasp upon hearing your mother’s voice. The clicks of her heels draw further towards you and before you can look at Jungkook and ask what you should do, what you should say, you’re thrown into the fountain.

Ice cold waves engulf you as you inhale a good chunk of the fountain. Your lungs burn from the accidental intake of water. You only just get your hands under you and sit yourself up and out of the water as quickly as you can. Familiar shouts ring in the distance. Coughing up the fountain, you push your hair back and look around the garden.

Your mother is staring at you in utter shock, screaming at you to come out but refusing to help you herself. As you try to lift yourself up, you find the water has returned to its usual clarity and that Jungkook is nowhere to be found. He seriously left you to almost drown in the fountain by yourself? He’d be lucky to get more than a kiss from your tomorrow night. You can’t believe he has the audacity to yell at you then let you there like that. In a fit of anger, you send a lashing string after lashing string of profanities to him in the form of a prayer.

“Miss (L/N)!”

Your blood chills. Hands on the lip of the fountain, you turn towards his voice. Fully dressed in a dark blue suit, his wings nowhere to be found, and dry hair pulled back a neat ponytail, Jungkook rushes over to you. His strong hands settle on your waist before he effortlessly scoops you out.

All you can do is stare. Mouth agape, eyes vacant, you try to figure out why the hell he made himself all presentable and left you looking like a mess. You want to whisper your profanities and swear that he will never touch your ass for leaving you in such a mess, but all you can find yourself saying is, “Mr. Jeon.”

His eyes shoot to the sky as your mother rushes towards you. Nothing is making sense and you only wish you can read his mind to know what to do next.

“Goodness, (Y/N),” your mother hisses as she rushes towards you. “Cover yourself!”

Looking down at your bust, you gasp. Oh, right, he tore it. Crossing your arms over your chest, you look up at him and glare. But Jungkook only takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. It’s only when you feel your mother’s arms around you do you realize that you’re shivering.

“What have you done to yourself now?” she whispers in your ear.

Her eyes then settle on Jungkook. That look graces her face. That look of assessment. She’s scanning the unknown god up and down, looking for signs of wealth, status, and reliability. It doesn’t take her long to innocently smile and fall victim to his beauty, “Thank you kindly, Mr. Jeon.”

He bows his head then turns to you and says, “I told you not to sit on the edge.” Jungkook fakes a polished chuckle. He shakes his head at you when your eyes narrow at him. “I told her, Mrs. (L/N), I told her the marble is slippery. But, Miss (L/N) just had to get a better look at those flowers.”

You glance back at the fountain with your mother, finding an array of tiger lilies floating in the bowl. All this trouble to explain why you’re wet? You look back at him cautiously and wonder what the end of this conversation is meant to look like.

“Yes, she loves flowers,” your mother sighs. She then sets her sights on Jungkook once more and asks, “Jeon… I’m not sure I know of the Jeons. Are you from out of town?”

Jungkook charms your mother instantly with that kind, toothy smile of his. He nods and compliments her quick wits, to which she laughs, then explains, “I’m visiting for the wedding.”

The wedding? Does that mean?

“Miss (L/N) invited me. I’m rather glad to have run into you, Mrs. (L/N) as I was hoping to ask permission to escort your daughter to the wedding.”

One of your hands, previously covering your right breast, shoots up to cover your mouth out of utter shock. Did he orchestrate all this just to agree to your favour? You hope you haven’t guilted him into it. You’ve done that to get him here and admit to your relationship; you already regret doing that. You just hope he’s acting on his own accord right now.

Jungkook shoots you a wink as your mother fixes the jacket so that your uncovered breast is concealed once more. Sighing of relief, you offer him a grateful smile.

“Are you sure?” Your mother suddenly asks, looking back to Jungkook. “(Y/N) is the one you want to escort?”

He glances at you and smiles. “Miss (L/N) the one and only thing I’m always sure about.”

Your mother raises a brow at you. She smells something fishy, knows something is off about this entire encounter. You watch her carefully as she looks between you and Jungkook. And when you expect her to refuse, to lecture you in front of him, your mother adopts an opposite approach. She smiles upon the two of you and shifts you closer to Jungkook.

“I would be delighted to have you escort my daughter, Mr. Jeon,” she beams. “Do you mind walking (Y/N) to the carriages? I cannot let her go back and drip all over the Barbury’s rugs.”

Jungkook offers you his elbow, returning your mother’s smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

You stumble towards Jungkook, your mother practically pushing you into him. With a shaky hand, you take his arm and let him guide you out of the maze. After a turn or two within the tall hedges, you part your lips to ask him what he thinks he’s doing.

However, Jungkook fills the silence before you can. “I’ll buy you an entire bouquet of lilies, darling. Just promise me to never fall into a fountain again,” he laughs, exaggerating the volume of his voice.

This time, you pick up on his hints and realize that your mother must still be close by if he’s still putting up such an act. “I promise it won’t happen again, Mr. Jeon,” you innocently reply.

A smirk, you know is real, graces his features. He walks you around the manor and to the front of the house before breaking out of this noble character of his. “I think she bought it. Your mother is a very suspicious woman.”

You scoff. “That’s just one of many titles she holds,” you mumble under your breath. As you walk towards your family’s carriage, you can’t help but ask, “Why did you do that?”

Jungkook stops you before the door and takes both your hands in his. Those amused eyes linger around your exposed breasts. He chuckles a bit at the way you arch your back to keep them there, making you giggle along with him.

“Are you happy?”

You pause. Is that why he did this? To make you happy?

“Are you?”

He gives you a pointed look. “Answer the question, (Y/N).”

“Are you just doing this to make me happy, Jungkook?” You ask instead. “Because I will go back to her and tell her that we were both in that fountain and-”

“So what if I am?” He cuts you off. “I want you to be happy, (Y/N). Why is that so wrong?”

It’s not. There’s nothing wrong with him wanting you to be happy. But you want him to be happy with his decision. You’ve forced him into admitting things and meeting you. You don’t want to force him into this too. You want him to want to take you, to want to be with you. That is what true happiness is to you. It’s Jungkook unconditionally wanting you the way you unconditionally want him.

Jungkook cups your face. Leaning his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I’m sorry I make you think I don’t want you just as much as you want me.” His nose brushes against yours, hitching your breath as he presses himself against you and continues in a breathy whisper, “Watching you cry breaks me in ways I can’t describe. And being the reason for your tears just destroys me, (Y/N). I’ll do anything to see you smile again.”

Then, he presses his lips upon yours, reaching for the carriage door behind you. When he pulls away, he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, ushering you into your seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, baby,” he smiles.

You’ve misjudged him for the third time tonight. Thinking he doesn’t care for you, thinking he left you, and thinking he doesn’t want you. All you can do now is pray that he forgives you for all the curses you’ve hurled his way.

He chuckles and places kisses on both your hands. “It was very amusing actually.”

You nod. “I’m sure.” But, you’re still sorry.

With one last round of kisses over your knuckles, Jungkook promises, “I won’t be late.”

“I’ll be waiting regardless,” you immediately reply.

The next three words are on the tip of your tongue. He can almost hear them, judging by the twitch of his brows. You don’t have a chance to say them though as he clears his throat and shuts the door. You watch him from the window, shakily exhaling.

Jungkook calls the coachmen. The carriage jerks forward. The lasting image of his smirk, those sweet eyes and that muscular frame is all you try to see. However, in seconds, he’s pulled from view. The only memory you have of him remains with that sacrilegious confession in a fountain of fantasies.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

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travellingarmy · 3 years

Text

║Diluc║Family Outing

Female reader as requested.

Fluff.

Word count: 2.8k

---

The manor was no longer the silent and lonely house that everyone used to know before he met you, and now that he has made a family with you, his heart felt comfort knowing that he has two little angels to return to each and every night.

"Wake up, Daddy! Wake up, Mommy!" a child's voice sang throughout the empty halls and continued to do so until it got inside your room. The owner of the voice frown when they saw you still sleeping-- well underneath the blankets.

However, that frown was replaced by a giggle and smile, taking this opportunity to jump right on your stomach since you were the closest.

You groan in a tired pain, but after a few seconds, you opened your eyes, looking at the little human sitting at the bottom of the bed. A wide smile greets you and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Yay! Mommy is awake!" They cheer, clapping excitedly. You look towards the person who lay beside you, sleeping peacefully as he pretended not to hear the loud child, his arms around your waist getting a bit tighter.

Diluc came home awfully late last night, eyes holding fatigue with light bags under his eyes, so it was understandable as to why he dare not wake up.

You pulled away from his wrap, making space between you and him before patting that spot, hinting the little girl to join.

If you didn't know any better, you might have thought that the smile on her face couldn't get any wider.

Crawling beside you, you placed a kiss on their forehead, wrapping one arm on their small waist. "Good morning, Nuri. How was your sleep?" Your voice a bit hoarse, still just waking up.

"At first, Nuri had trouble sleeping because of how excited I am!" Nuri exclaims, but soon added, "But Nuri had a good sleep! Mommy and Daddy showed up in my dream and we ate ice cream!"

You chuckled at her words, heart feeling warm. "That's good to hear," you simply answered, unable to reply with energy and wondered how the child had so much energy. The sun was still peeking through the horizon, yet she acted as if it was nine already.

"Are we going to go now?" Nuri asks. You look at the male, snoozing tiredly. "In a couple more minutes, okay?" you said, making the child frown a bit. "But Nuri wants to eat ice cream now!" she states.

"You will have as many ice creams as you want soon-- just let Daddy sleep a bit more, okay?" you assured the girl. She pouts, but nodded.

After a few minutes, you got up, reminding Nuri to not wake Diluc up just yet as you go shower to shake the remaining sleep off of you.

Upon stepping back into the bedroom, Nuri was sitting beside Diluc, poking his cheeks lightly as she admires his complexion. "Nuri, let's go get you change, okay? Then we'll wake your father," you said, offering her a hand to latch onto.

She looks over at you and jumps off of the bed, her excitement just getting higher as you two left the room and allowing Diluc to sleep in silence for a while.

"I want to eat loads of ice cream!" Nuri states excitedly, swinging her legs as she sat and letting you tie her hair. "I also want to play with Klee!"

"I'm sure we'll run into her if she isn't confined in her room," you said, just finishing tying her red hair into a ponytail and putting on a ribbon to top it off. Nuri smiles when she saw herself in the mirror and quickly hops off of the chair. "Can we go wake Daddy up now?" she asks, to which you nod.

"Alright, go wake Daddy," you urge the child when you two got back to the master's bedroom. Nuri nods and quickly leaves your side, doing the same thing when she woke you up- jumping onto his stomach.

"Wake up, Daddy!" Nuri said. Diluc groans from the sudden pain, eyes fluttering open to stare at the child. "Nuri..? What are you doing here?" Diluc greets, voice hoarse upon wake.

"You promised Nuri that you will take her out today, so get your butt out of bed!" Nuri orders, shaking the male with whatever strength she's got.

Diluc chuckles at her weak strength, but nevertheless, straightened up on bed. "Good morning to you too," he said, lifting the child up in the air and soon showing a smile of his own.

He turns his head towards you as you make your way to the two. You sat at the other side of the bed and gave a quick peck on his lips. "Good morning," you said. He returns the greeting by kissing you, but this time, letting it linger for a while longer. "Stop kissing and let's go already! I want ice cream!" Nuri weakily punches Diluc's stomach. You and Diluc chuckled, but complied to her orders in the end.

After Diluc changed into his daily choice of clothing, you three met in the dining room where Adelinde had ready set breakfast for the three of you.

"Slow down, Nuri. You'll choke if you eat like that," you said, seeing the girl practically vacuuming her breakfast. "But I want to go out and if we eat quickly, we'll get to go faster!" Even when saying so, she slows down.

After that, you three finally set off, walking all the way to the city where all the fun was.

Strolling around for a bit, Nuri's eyes landed on a toy store with a large window displaying the toys inside. Quickly, she tugs on Diluc's coat, drawing his attention. "Daddy, I want toys!" Nuri said, pointing to the toys on display, eyes pleading like that of a puppy wanting treats.

Diluc stares through the window and smiled at the girl, nodding and letting himself be taken into the store with her, you trailing behind.

Inside, Nuri quickly separates herself from you two to look at the many toys and soon return with a lot in her hands. "Daddy, Daddy, can I get these and those?" she asks, pointing at a couple of toys in the shelf as well as hinting the ones in her hands.

"Uh, Nuri, that's quite a lot, don't you think?" You sweat dropped at her pleas. However, "You can buy whatever you want," Diluc states. Nuri smiles widely and giggles, saying her thank yous to Diluc.

"Diluc, don't you think you're spoiling her too much?" you ask. He reassures you by intertwining your hands together. "If it is something she wants, I will get it for her-- no matter the cost. Besides, I make a lot of money that I don't know what to do with them other than spoiling you two," he said, smiling at you.

You nudge him lightly with your free hand, to which he chuckles. "Daddy, I'm done choosing!" Nuri said, waving from the counter.

"Can you wrap them up in boxes separately? I'll send my butler to get them later," Diluc said to the person behind the counter and placed a pouch full of mora. "Yes, of course, sir. But, uh, I'm sure that this is too much," the person gestures at the pouch.

"Oh, you can keep the change," Diluc said, earning a thank you from them. "Well then, shall we go?" he asks Nuri. She smiles and held his free hand, exiting the store happily.

When you three stepped out, you were greeted by an all too familiar voice. "Oh? So it seems that Master Diluc, (Y/N), and Nuri are out for a family stroll," Kaeya greets and approaches the family.

"Uncle Kaeya!" Nuri smiles widely at the sight of the male and let go of Diluc's hand to run to Kaeya, leaping into his already open arms and lifting her up to meet his eye.

A visible, wide smile appears in Kaeya's face as he chuckles. "Why if it isn't my little fairy," he said, rubbing his nose on hers, earning her to giggle.

"So, what have you been up to, my little fairy?" he asks. "I bought lots of toys for me and Klee!" she answers, putting her small hands on his shoulders.

"Oh? I'm sure Klee would be happy to hear that," Kaeya said, dismissing the glare he's earning from Diluc.

You chuckled at your husband's jealousy and squeeze his hand softly. Everytime Kaeya was around, almost always did Nuri go to Kaeya, even though she has been told time and time again by Diluc to not trust any of the inefficient knights.

"Sir Kaeya, don't you have some things to attend to?" Diluc asks, getting the captain's attention. "Oh, I'm free of work at the moment." He smugly smirks. Seeing his brother jealous was something he loved to see and make it a point to show up at some point to earn Nuri's attention.

"Huh, really? As far as I'm concerned, your other knights are standing at their posts and doing their duties.. Are you saying that you are slacking off?" Diluc shots back.

"Maybe I am." Kaeya shrugs, his smirk not dropping from his face. "I will happily slack off from work to enjoy my time with this angelic fairy." He hints at Nuri.

Diluc gumbles curses under his breath, clearly upset at his brother's presence.

Luckily, a fellow knight intruded, clearing looking for Kaeya. "Sir Kaeya, Acting Grandmaster wishes to see you," tha knight said, straightening his posture.

Kaeya eyed the knight. "Oh? What for?" he asks. "She asks of you to take care of Klee for a while, sir," the knight answers.

Kaeya frowns a bit, but that soon changed into a smile. "Oh, Nuri, would you like to see Klee now?" He turns his head to the child.

"I'm afraid I won't allow that, Sir Kaeya," Diluc steps in, not wanting his child to be inside the Knight's of Favonius' headquarters, even if it's just for a quick visit.

"Oh come on, I'm sure she would love to see Klee. Aren't I right, Nuri?" Kaeya asks with a confident smirk. And to his correction, Nuri nods. "See, Master Diluc? You don't want to upset your daughter now, would you?"

"Nuri, do you want to get ice cream now?" Diluc changes the conversation to his favour. He doesn't like giving Nuri sweets so early in the day, but it had to be done just this once.

Nuri's eyes glimmers and nods quickly, tugging on Kaeya's clothes to out her down so she can go to her father. At that point, Kaeya lost to ice cream and put her down.

"Ah.. Klee would be so sad.." Kaeya tries to change the child's mind, but to no avail. When ice cream was involved, Nuri tend to forget everything else and focus on getting ice cream.

"Well then, that settles this. Sir Kaeya, let us not meet a second time today," Diluc bids to the knight. "Oh, don't worry. I'll be sure to see Nuri again today~" Kaeya said, irking the redhead. Taking Nuri into his arms, he walks away, you following beside them.

"Daddy, will you really buy me ice cream?" Nuri asks for reassurance. Diluc nods. "I don't back out of my words," Diluc said.

"I want chocolate!" Nuri says once inside the ice cream shop. "Chocolate? Isn't it a little too early, Nuri?" Diluc points out.

She huffs and crosses her arms. "You said you will buy me ice cream and I want chocolate!" she said. Diluc sighs and went to buy her a small chocolate ice cream and in a cone as requested by her.

"What do you want, love?" he asks you, knowing that Nuri's love for ice cream was shared with you. "I'm sure you want your favourite, right?" You giggle and nodded. It felt special to you how he remembers everything about you-- from your favourite things in the world to your fears.

You exited the shop, Diluc smiling at his two angels enjoying their ice cream, although he still doesn't approve of eating something so unhealthy early the day.

From that time till lunch, you three went into stores that caught Nuri's eyes, Diluc paying for everything that the little girl wanted with no hesitation-- a luxury that only vieux riche can experience.

Soon it was time for lunch and Nuri became hungry. "Where do you want to eat, Nuri?" you ask. "I want ice cream!" she quickly answers.

"You've had your once-a-day ice cream, Nuri," Diluc points out, making Nuri pout. "But I want ice cream.."

Seeing her sad, Diluc quickly added to his words. "You will get a second ice cream after lunch, okay?" he said, lifting her spirits up. "Second ice cream? Yay!" She claps her hands. "Then, I want to eat at Miss Sara's," she answers. Nuri doesn't know the name of the places within the city, so when she says 'Miss Sara's', she means Good Hunter.

"Hi, Miss Sara!" Nuri greets, waving her small hands. Sara smiles and greeted the child, then going off to asking your orders.

Diluc was one to not like going in public places, unless he had some business. But now that he has Nuri, that changed in order to make her happy.

Sitting down, Nuri excitedly hums and swing her legs, wanting to get a second ice cream that only happens once in a blue moon.

"Ho~ You three don't certainly loiter around in one place." Behind Nuri, came an approaching Kaeya, however, he wasn't alone this time, so when Nuri turned, a huge smile tugged on the girl's face. "Klee!"

"Hi, Nuri!" Klee runs to Nuri's side, giggling. "Do you want to see my new toys?" the young knight asks and Nuri nods excitedly.

"Klee, you know what Acting Grandmaster said about showing your bombs within the walls, right?" Kaeya reminded. Klee pouts. "But I'm just showing it to Nuri.."

"Don't worry, Klee! We can play with it outside next time!" Nuri comforts the girl.

Bringing two chairs to the table, Klee sat beside Nuri and chatted with her more while Kaeya smugly looks at Diluc. "I thought I said to never appear again," Diluc grumbles.

"And I said that I will definitely be back." This only made Kaeya's smirk wider, clearly satisfied.

While the two children chatted away smilingly, the two male adults bickered over the childish of topics, you also joining when being asked for personal opinion.

Even after leaving Good Hunter, Kaeya and Klee tagged along in the family stroll due to Nuri's request. "We can take care of Klee. You can go back," Diluc states, crossing his arms and staring at the male on the opposite side of you, using you as a sort of barrier between himself and the knight.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Master Diluc. After all, I have been personally assigned by the Acting Grandmaster~" Diluc glares at him and cursed him once again.

"It's okay, Diluc. He's still family, so it's natural for him to join," you said, holding his hand. "Mhm, that's right~" Kaeya hums in agreement.

When Nuri asked for her second ice cream, Diluc ended up buying ice cream for everyone-- except for himself, of course. That meant he also had to buy one for Kaeya so that Nuri wouldn't be upset with him.

After hours of strolling, the sun was seen setting in the horizon, hinting you that Nuri's bedtime was soon.

"Alright, Nuri, time to say bye-bye to Klee," you said, intruding into the girl's happy conversation. "Already?" Nuri pouts.

"Yes, we have to get home before dinnertime," you state. Reluctantly and sadly, Nuri said her goodbyes to the red knight.

"See you soon, Nuri!" Klee waves from the gate, her doing the same as she held your hand. Once gone from the bridge, it was time for her turn to go home. "Now, let's get you back inside the headquarters," Kaeya said. "Otherwise, Acting Grandmaster will totally have it in for me."

Inside Dawn Winery and after dinner, you brought Nuri to her personal bathroom to bathe her and quickly get her into her sleepwear while Diluc went to your shared bathroom to do the same and later joining you two in her bedroom.

"Daddy, I want you to read The Legend of Venessa!" Nuri said when she got on her bed, pulling it from under her pillow. "Again?" you ask. She nods with no hesitation to having her favourite book be re-read to her.

"Alright.." Diluc complies to her demands, reading the same words for the umpteenth time until you both hear her lightly snore. She prefers Diluc over you when reading her bedtime stories because of how nice his voice sounds.

You got up from your sitting position at the side of her bed, pushing any strands of hair and placing a kiss on her forehead.

Now, it was yours and Diluc's turn to sleep, going to your shared bedroom that was just a few doors away from Nuri's.

He wraps his arms around your waist and brought you close for more warmth than what the blanket could provide. "Good night, angel," he said and kissing the crown of your head. Tiredly, you hummed. "Good night, Diluc."

---

#genshin impact #genshin #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc #diluc fluff #diluc oneshot #genshin impact oneshots #female reader

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iamnotoriginalphil · 3 years

Note

Yes! I'm so glad u watched mrs Fletcher it deserves more love tbh how about a mrs Fletcher x female reader where she's a classmate of hers in the creative writing course they go too and eve flirts with the reader whenever she catches reader checking her out lmao and reader gets all shy/flustered and they see each other again at some bar and hook up? If that's cool! You can write it smut or not whatever is cool with you but uhh it be hot ofc 👀💀

I loved this show so much! I really hope you like this.

She was doing it again. You could understand why schools forced girls to cover their shoulders when the large swaths of her skin were distracting you. You couldn’t keep track of the conversation. Every time you looked away, she was like a magnet, drawing your gaze back.

And each time you did there would be a small upwards curve to her lips.

Not that you were staring at her lips. Again. You flushed and looked back down to your notebook, spinning your pen with your fingers.

When you looked up Eve was twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, lower lip worrying between her teeth, eyes averting from you before they could meet yours.

Your eyes tripped over her body, pausing to admire her collarbone, the way her chest rose and fell, the pale skin leading to the edge of her shirt.

Your tongue darted out, wetting your lips. A sharp inhalation had you looking back at her, her eyes boring into yours. There was something in them that had you clenching your fists, a warm tingle spreading over your body.

You turned your attention to whatever bullshit was spilling from Barry’s mouth. You tried to hold back an eye roll but couldn’t quite manage it. Eve giggled, making your eyes snap to her again, along with everyone else’s in the room. She murmured an apology, ducking her head to remove the attention from herself. As discussion started up again she looked up, giving you a wink. Your face warmed up.

You let the rest of the class wash over you, your eyes darting up now and then to look at the brunette across the room from you. You didn’t realise the lesson had finished until the noise suddenly increased as one voice layered over another. You shook your head, gathering up your notebook, shoving it into your bag.

“Are you coming with us?”

You looked up, surprised to find Eve looking at you with expectancy on her face.

“Sorry?” you asked.

“To the bar? Are you coming?” she asked.

“Oh.” You looked over her shoulder to a couple of expectant faces watching you, “I wish I could.”

“But?” She gently tugged on a strand of your hair, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“But it’s my friend’s birthday and I promised I’d stop by,” you said.

She pouted and you had to suppress the urge to kiss it away. She tugged on the strand of your hair again, wrapping it around her finger.

“I was hoping you’d come,” she said.

“Sorry but a promise is a promise,” you said, trying to suppress your blush.

She chuckled and you ducked your head. She lifted it with a finger under your chin.

“You’re a wonderful friend,” she said, “although I’d like you to remember my disappointment when you’re having fun tonight.”

“From the sounds of it, you don’t need my presence to have fun of your own,” you replied.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said.

“I’m sure,” you replied, “have fun, Eve.”

You slipped out of the room with an apologetic smile. Your friend’s birthday was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, spending more time with Eve was everything you craved, but on the other you were terrified of making a fool of yourself in front of her. Better to avoid even the potential of it happening than to live through it.

The thought of what if made you a dull member of the party and when it was suggested it move to a local bar it made you a pang go through you. You couldn’t help but wonder which bar Eve was at, and what she might be doing. And with whom.

The group pushed through the doors of the bar, laughter and chatter loud, the cool breeze following you in. You were swept towards the bar without much thought. A cool beer was pressed into your hand. You wrinkled your nose, passing it on to one of the other girls.

“There’s some hot guys here,” one of the girls almost shouted in your ear. You giggled, flicking some hair over your shoulder, “reckon we should try and get the birthday girl laid?”

You looked in the direction she was gazing and froze. Julian was swaying in time with the music, a bottle of his own hanging loosely from his long fingers. If he was here then that meant…

Fingers pressed into her waist, turning you around. Sparkling blue eyes met yours and Eve lent forward, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke.

“I thought you said you couldn’t come out tonight.”

“The party moved,” you replied.

“I guess this is my lucky day,” she said, “now are you going to order me a drink?”

She gave you a cheeky grin, tugging on the end of your ponytail. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, your eyes darting down to her lips then back up again. You gave a nervous laugh.

“What are you having?” you asked.

“White wine with ice,” she replied.

You turned away, slapping your hand down on the bar. You were immediately greeted with the smile of the bartender. You put in your order, ignoring the wink he shot your way. Your fingers brushed against hers as you passed over the cool glass. She threaded her fingers through yours and tugged you away, shooting a glare behind you.

You settled at a table, your knees pressed together, watching as she slung one leg over the other. You licked your lips, watching as her eyes focused in on them, darkening. Her own tongue darted out and you felt heat rise high on your cheeks.

“Your friends look like they’re having fun,” she said. You glanced over your shoulder at the dance floor. A few of your friends were dancing, the birthday girl grinding up on Julian who looked as if he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it. You gave a dry chuckle, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle her if she got another drink in her. You turned back around to find Eve staring at you.

“What?” you asked, shifting in your seat.

“You’re an incredibly beautiful young woman,” she said, “you know that, right?”

You chuckled, “thanks.”

She reached across to you, her fingers running over the back of yours. It sent a shot of arousal through you, the skin on skin contact and soft touch making you catch your breath. She curled her fingers around, turning your hand over until it was facing palm up.

“I feel special that you’re not joining in the fun to indulge me,” she said.

“You are special,” you said, then blinked. You hadn’t meant to say it. Even if it was true.

You were surprised by the flush on her skin and the way her eyes looked down at your hand, where her fingers were still tracing over the lines of your palm. You stood, shuffling around the table. She looked up at you. You pulled your hand out from beneath hers.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you said, “so this is the time to tell me if you don’t want it.”

When she didn’t say anything you cupped her cheeks, tilting her face up. You pressed your lips to hers, soft and unsure of yourself. She wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you a set forward. You almost unbalanced, falling against her body. You gasped and her tongue invaded your mouth.

One of her legs managed to slip between yours, keeping your body pressed against hers. You slid a hand into her hair, tangling your fingers in it until it pulled. She moaned into your mouth before nipping at your lower lip.

You couldn’t get enough of her. She was intoxicating, addictive, and all you wanted was to let her consume you. Her kisses were like fire and you were worried if she asked you, you’d let her take you right then and there on the table. She drew back from you.

“Well, that was...,” she trailed off, sounding as breathless as you felt.

You didn’t let her catch her breath before kissing her again. You couldn’t stop. She was the air you breathed, the only important thing left. You needed her the way you’d never needed anyone else.

A loud laugh had you breaking away. You looked over your shoulder again, finding a group of your friends waving at you. You rolled your eyes and turned back to Eve.

“Do you want to get out of here?” you asked.

“Yes.”

She stood up, leaving her half drunk glass of wine, the ice long since melted. She slipped her arm around your waist, and you couldn’t stop your own from grasping her hip. You nipped at her earlobe, feeling her shiver from where she was pressed against you.

She drove you back to her place, assuring you her son was away at college with no plans of returning any time soon. You stumbled as you tried to pull your shoes off as she pulled you into the house. She grabbed your face, kissing you deeply. She pushed you against the wall, hard enough for your breath to woosh out of you.

You grabbed her hips, hauling her up until her legs wrapped around your waist. Her fingers buried in your hair, tugging on it until you were moaning into her mouth. You spun, pushing her against the wall, feeling her arch towards you.

She directed you to her room. You threw her down on the bed, watching as she bounced, her mouth falling open in surprise. She crawled over her, settling yourself on her mouth while you kissed her again. Her hands slipped under your shirt, palms pressing to your spine. You were holding her chin while you kissed her with abandon. She trailed her lips down, pressing to your pulse point, teeth scraping against your skin. Your head fell back as she pulled your shirt from your body. You reached behind you, unclasping your bra and throwing it to the side.

Her hands kneaded your breasts, brushing against your hardening nipples. You arched forward, seeking her touch. Her mouth closed around one of your nipples, sucking on it until a curse fell from your lips. She chuckled against you, pinching at the other while she looked up at you with big eyes. You stared down at her, your fingers tangling in her hair, keeping her pressed to you.

She kissed back up your body, hovering close enough for your breaths to mingle. You surged forward, pressing yourself to her. You pawed at her, until you could pull her own shirt from her body. She fell back, pulling you with her until you were holding yourself above her. You couldn’t stop your eyes roving over her form, all pale skin and beauty. She left you breathless.

You kissed her with abandon, hoping you were making her feel even half of what you did. She groaned as you slid your hands down, tracing her skin, feeling how soft it was beneath your fingertips. She sighed as you tasted her skin, taking your time with her. You slid down her body, wondering if you could kiss every inch of her before the night was done.

You unbuttoned her jeans, watching her lean on her elbows to watch, her hair awry. You nipped at her hip bone as you passed, enjoying the way she thrust up towards you. She hummed as you pulled the jeans from her legs. She kicked them away.

You grasped her ankles, pinning them to the mattress. You pressed a kiss to her knee, working your way up until your lips were pressed to her inner thigh. Her eyes were smouldering where they met yours, her lower lip caught between her teeth. You dipped forward, blowing over her heat. Her legs twitched, as if the impulse to clamp her legs around your head was running through her.

Your mouth descended on her. A curse fell from her lips and her head fell back on the pillow. You grasped her thighs, parting them further, giving you more room as you devoured her. Her fingers clutched at you, pressing you to her as she ground against your face. You hummed, feeling her body stiffen.

She grasped your face, pulling until you climbed up her body, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. She kissed you, her tongue plundering the depths of your mouth. Her fingers worked on the fastening of your own jeans, practically ripping them from your body. You groaned into her mouth as her fingers found your core, running through your folds. You shifted your hips, a featherlight touch over your bundle of nerves making you whine.

You pressed against her own heat, stroking her as her fingers did the same to you. You sat up on her, your hips moving insistently as she made pleasure tingle along your skin. Your own fingers were still, waiting at her entrance.

“Please,” she moaned.

You pressed one finger into her, waiting for the go ahead before you added another. Her own finger began to circle your clit. You made a breathy little moan, your fingers stuttering. She shifted beneath you until you began to curl your fingers within her, watching her mouth fall open. You lent forward to kiss her again, wanting to feel as close to her as possible.

She flipped the two of you, straddling your waist. Her teeth nipped at your lower lip, tugging on it. In retaliation you pressed the pad of your thumb down on her bundle of nerves. She made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. You gave her a cheeky grin that slipped as soon as you ground her palm against yours.

She was the first to fall apart, her fingers faltering as she threw her head back, her body tensing. You watched in fascination at the way her face contorted in pleasure. You watched her calm down, a smile taking over her face. She gave you a quick kiss before disappearing between your thighs.

You’d already been close but the sight of her down there, making eye contact with you, had you a panting mess. It wasn’t long before you were following her, wave after wave of pleasure crashing into you. You were crying out, gripping her too tightly as your legs shook.

She crawled back up your body, lying down beside you. You rolled onto your side, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. She smiled, pulling your forward into a soft kiss. You tangled your legs with hers, running your fingers along the bare skin of her back. She shivered, pressing closer to you.

“I’m glad you came to the bar,” she said.

“I’m glad we ended up at the one you were in,” you replied.

“We’re both very lucky then,” she said.

You hummed, leaning forward to kiss her again. She stopped you with a finger to your lips. You blinked, drawing back, the flush of shame filling you.

“I’d like to take you out to dinner tomorrow night,” she said, “if you’re free.”

“Oh,” you said, “yes, I’d like that.”

“Would you?”

You rolled over, straddling her waist and cupping her cheeks. She looked up at you. You kissed her again.

“You have no idea how much I’d like that.”

Permanent Tag List: @paulawand @delias-bitch-craft @sarahp-stan

#mrs fletcher #eve fletcher #eve fletcher imagine #kathryn hahn #kathryn hahn imagine

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soysaucecas · 3 years

Text

i’ll lend you this, i’ll lend you that (ao3)

1k, t4t samjess’s first meeting at stanford the rhonda bit is inspired veryyy heavily by this fanart by @skepticalfrog written for @spnprideweek day 1: coming out

cw for some unintentional misgendering

Sam brings a journal to Stanford to record the names and faces of everyone she meets. This is going to be her home for the next four years—no packing bags in the middle of the night or saying hasty goodbyes to half-baked friendships she’ll never find again. The people she meets are here to stay. She’s here to stay.

California’s hot in August (though not as hot as some of the places Sam’s been), so Sam ties their hair up. They’re not sure how out they plan to be here yet; honestly, they’ve been going back and forth about it every night for weeks, but some guys have ponytails, so it shouldn’t be too risky. Sam takes another quick look at the students in their first day orientation group. Some of the students look super preppy, but there’s plenty in extremely casual wear, plus some scene kids. She sees a few people with outrageously-dyed hair, and one guy who seems to be wearing lipstick. No one is bothering him, nor is anyone shooting her looks yet, and it’s still hot even with their hair up. Can she…?

With a slight rush of adrenaline, Sam takes the bottom of their shirt and ties it off at their waist. Rhonda Hurley had shown them how to make any shirt into a makeshift crop top years ago, and Sam’s muscle memory follows her simple instructions well, even if their hands are shaking a little. It’d been one of the many bits of wisdom Rhonda had imparted on Sam during the one year she was in Sam and Dean’s lives, bits of wisdom she’d always dropped with a small smile that seemed to say, “just for us girls, huh?” Sam doesn’t feel entirely like a girl most of the time, but the word always felt right coming from Rhonda, who was always okay with Sam crashing her and Dean’s dates and regularly called Sam her trans sister-in-arms.

Alyssa, the orientation leader and tour guide, lets them take a ten-minute break for water, bathrooms, and socializing. Sam gets the names, faces, and cell numbers of Sarayu and Brady, though her sketches end up being far less detailed than she’d like. Looking down at her first filled page, she finds that it reminds her a little of John’s hunting journal. The thought makes them shudder. No more hunting, no more monsters. Sam’s not going to kill anyone in this book. As soon as they can borrow someone’s stationery, they’re going to draw colorful borders around each entry, borders so floral they’d make the old man gag.

“Five minutes left!” Alyssa says cheerily. “Just to give you a little taste of what’s to come, we’ll be going to Meyer after this.” She delivers the next line like a joke, but no one really laughs—“Don’t tell anyone this, but it’s actually my least favorite library.”

“She’s perky, isn’t she?” someone next to Sam whispers. Sam turns, confused, and their neighbor inclines a head towards Alyssa. Sam stifles a startled giggle. The speaker appears to be a blonde girl, pretty, and wearing a clearly well-loved friendship bracelet. She gestures at Sam’s notebook, which is still open. “Art major?”

Sam, flattered, shakes their head. “No, pre-law. This is just sort of… a phonebook. I have people’s names and numbers and what they look like in case I forget who they are.”

“Hm. Very cool,” Pretty Girl says. “Can I be next?”

“Sure,” Sam says. “What’s your name?” She tells her, and Sam asks, “Is that with an I-E at the end or just a Y?”

Jessie or Jessy chews on her lip, as if considering something. Her gaze returns to Sam’s midriff (Sam resists the urge to cover up), and seems to come to a decision. “Just… just with an E. J-E-S-S-E. Jess for short.”

Sam tries not to react, but they clearly do a bad job of it, because Jesse steps back a little. “Is that a problem?” he(?) asks.

Sam shakes her head rapidly and starts scribbling the name down like her speed might indicate her acceptance. “No, no, definitely not. I think… I think that’s really cool, actually. Did you”—there are definitely better ways to ask this, but oh well—“did you pick it yourself?”

Jesse relaxes immediately. “It was a collaborative effort.”

“Got it. Phone number?”

Jesse rattles off a cell, then asks, “What about you? What’s your name?”

“Me? I’m Sam.”

“Short for Samuel?”

Sam considers agreeing; after all, that is what it says on their birth certificate, but they stop at the last moment. “Short for—short for Samantha, actually.” The flash of recognition in Jesse’s eyes is both thrilling and terrifying. Sam quickly adds, “But maybe don’t go spreading that around.”

Jesse makes a lips-sealed gesture, eyes dead serious. Sam laughs gratefully.

“So,” Sam says, as quietly as she can, “do you—do you go by ‘he,’ or by ‘she,’ or—”

Jesse unzips his(?) mouth before replying, “Any of the above? Though… kind of like you said, you should probably stick to ‘she’ when there’s unfamiliar people around.”

“Deal.” Sam sticks out her hand, and the two of them shake on it. Jesse holds on a little longer than necessary, a small smile playing at his lips.

“It’s good to meet you, Sam. Really, what are the chances?”

Sam considers the question. “Pretty low. I didn’t know if I would find any tr—well, any people like me at Stanford.”

Jess nods. “I wasn’t that hopeless, but I definitely didn’t think it would happen day one. It is college, though. And California.”

Sam’s not certain what the significance of either of those things are, but before she can ask, Alyssa is calling the group back together. The rest of the students get back in formation behind her. Sam looks down at the second page of her notebook, which just has “Jesse” and a phone number written on it—no portrait yet. Damn. Though, Sam thinks, looking up at Jess walking ahead of them, maybe that’s a face she won’t need help remembering.

#samjess #sam winchester #jess moore #jessica moore #[though that's not her name here]#spnprideweek #spn #supernatural #fic #my fic #sam #jess #sj

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mamabearcatfanfics · 3 years

Text

Battle Couple

I've had this little idea for a while, and then decided I could bend it slightly to fit this year's @inukag-week's first battle couple prompt. Because not all battles we face have to be huge ones against a deadly foe. Sometimes the battles can simply be standing up for what's right.

Inuyasha dragged the beanie down tighter over his head, stomping towards the exit of the store. He hated this. This is why he bought things online and had them delivered. Because then he could avoid interactions like he’d just had with that racist arsehole. He glanced down at the text from Sesshoumaru again, wondering if there was some other way he could get this gift for Rin. It was the first time his half-brother had thrown a birthday party for his adopted daughter, and no doubt it would be a big deal.

Rin has expressed an interest in this item. Her birthday party is on Saturday at 10am. Do not be late.

And of course the toy Rin had asked for was sold out everywhere online. The tiny dolls with light up dresses and a matching crystal necklace were apparently ‘the’ toy at the moment. She specifically wanted the purple one, the ‘hope’ doll, because it was her favourite colour, and she already had the other dolls in the set. This was the last one she needed. And he hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. He was failing as an Uncle. The last store he’d been to, he’d practically seen a pair of mothers come to blows arguing over the last CrystalShines doll on the shelf.

He was close to the exit of the store when an intriguing scent wafted past his nose. It was another store employee, dressed in the dark polo shirt and black jeans, with one of those ear walkie talkies they all seemed to wear. She was giggling, talking to someone using the button on her mike, her other arm full of a variety of women’s clothing that she was putting back on the racks. Her arms were a blur as she began sorting them into different sizes, working quickly to make each rack neat and tidy.

He watched as she flitted about the store, talking to a customer, smiling and waving at a baby in a pram, folding jumpers and t-shirts. His eyes were drawn to her dark ponytail; the way it swung as she moved was almost hypnotic. Her glossy hair was black, but had a blue sheen to it under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and he had a sudden urge to reach out and touch it, stroke down the length of the swinging tail to see if it was as soft and silken as it looked.

Without even realising it, he followed her, almost bumping into her as she suddenly spun around to go in a different direction.

“Oh! Good evening sir, can I help you with anything?”

There was a pleasant smile on her face, and she was looking at him expectantly. His voice didn’t seem to want to work now he was actually standing close to her, so he turned around his phone, showing her the picture of the doll.

“This is what you’re looking for?”

“Yeah”, he said softly, his eyes focused on hers as she glanced up at him again. He’d never seen anyone with grey eyes before. It seemed they were lit from within like starlight, and now that he was closer to her, she smelt even better. He cleared his throat, trying to get a hold of himself. “My niece wants one of these for her birthday, and I’m having trouble finding one.”

“Okay”, she said, reaching for the button on her headset to talk to the other employees on the shop floor. “Let me just talk to my colleague in the toy department, and I’ll see if we’ve got that item in stock.”

❤

Kagome watched as the man in front of her visibly deflated.

“Don’worry about it then. Already talked to ‘im.”

And then she got it. Ryan was working the toy department tonight. Ryan the racist bigot who didn’t like interacting with any customers who weren’t white, male, good ol’ boys, exactly like him. Usually he worked out the back in the store room, unpacking shipments, but due to the flu going around and the shortage of staff, the evening shift manager had put him on the floor tonight. And he’d no doubt said something innaproppriate to this gorgeous man in front of her, who obviously had some sort of youkai heritage.

She’d had her own run-ins with Ryan. He’d said many cruel things to her over the past six months, since he’d found out what happened a few years ago, cruel enough to make her run to the safety of the women’s toilets to shed a few silent tears in private. He never bullied her in a place where others could overhear, he always cornered her in dark places where there was no one else around. He frightened her. Jak knew she was uncomfortable around him, and did his best to make sure they were never rostered on at the same time, so it had been a while since she’d had to deal with him.

She took in the golden eyes, fangs and the beanie yanked down hard over his long silver hair, but it was the resigned bitter look on his face that caught at her heart. She knew that feeling. Internally Kagome fumed, but outwardly she hoisted her brightest smile onto her face, wanting to make it up to him. She could fix this!

“Wait. I don’t know the toy department that well, but I’m sure I could help. Just give me a moment to put these things down.”

He followed her to a wheeled rack in the aisle where she hung all the clothing in her arms back up, and then turned to him, smiling brightly again.

“Let’s go to the toy department and see if we can’t find this doll for your niece. When’s her birthday?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Oh dear, that doesn’t give you much time to find one!”

“I’ve been lookin’ all week. Online stores have sold out.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll have one in stock. Let’s see, the doll aisle is around here somewhere.”

They walked together down the aisle, both scanning the shelves for the tiny dolls.

“They should be around here”, said Kagome, her finger running along the price labelling on the edge of the shelf, her eyes lighting up as she found the right tag, but sighing in disappointment as she found the shelf empty.

“Yeah”, sighed Inuyasha. “I asked the guy around here if he could find out if there were any more out the back or somethin’ and he, ah…”

“Don’t worry”, said Kagome, a determined look on her face, “I will personally go take a look in the store room for you. Just wait here for me sir.”

“Inuyasha.”

“Huh?”

He coughed a little, his head turning to the side to avoid her direct gaze. “My name, it’s Inuyasha.”

“Oh. Right. Just wait here for me Inuyasha, and I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks Kagome.”

She blinked in confusion as he said her name, wondering how he’d known it, then realised he had read her name tag.

For some reason him saying her name out loud made her stomach swoop, like she was on a roller coaster, even though her feet were firmly planted on the ground. As he gave her a shy smile, she felt her cheeks begin to heat, and she whirled around, making a beeline for the storage room, talking into the mike on her headset as she left.

“Hey Jak, it’s Kagome – just going out to the store room for a moment for a customer. I’ll get right back on those returns as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Oooh, tell me it’s the hottie with the white hair that I pointed out to you!”

“Jak!”

“Oh it is! Take your time honey!”

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“And you love me for it. Make sure you get his name and number before he goes!”

“Jak!”

“For the customer form darlin’, what else did you think I meant?”

She could hear him still sniggering as she released the talk button on her mike, and she shook her head, grinning despite herself. He was her in-line manager and they got on really well, but rarely got to spend time together, as he was usually rostered on during the day, and her in the evenings so her day was free for lectures and study.

Kagome squeezed her way into the storeroom, scanning the aisles of stock yet to be placed out on the shelves. And then she saw it, the edge of a box with a picture of a tiny doll up on the highest shelf.

Dragging over the step ladder, she placed it under the shelf and climbed up, her petite size meaning she had to stand on the very top to have any chance of reaching the box. She just managed to reach the doll with the tips of her fingers, and nudged it. It tipped forward and fell, and with a gasp she managed to catch it with her outstretched hand, teetering on the top of the ladder, her other arm windmilling frantically to keep her balance.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her frantically beating heart after her almost fall, the box containing the doll clutched tightly against her. But she’d found one for him, a purple one, just like he’d wanted. She had no idea why that made her feel so incredibly happy, but it did.

Grinning widely as she emerged from the storeroom, she began walking directly to the toy department. She could see Inuyasha there, waiting for her. But she could also see Ryan, his arms crossed as he spoke to him, a sneer on his face. She quickened her pace. Previous experience had taught her that expression couldn’t mean anything good.

❤

Inuyasha stood his ground, hands clenched in tight fists by his sides. He had every right to be here – he was a customer, he hadn’t caused any commotion or damage. Kagome had asked him to wait here. But apparently that wasn’t good enough for this guy.

“I told you already, we’ve got none of what your looking for. Nothing for you. Are you deaf, or just stupid?” The volume of his voice wasn’t loud enough to draw anyone’s attention to them, but definitely loud enough to get on Inuyasha’s nerves.

Inuyasha closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he held back. He would not punch out this idiot – this was a department store, not a battle ground. Even though he deserved it because he was a racist bigoted shit.

“I already told you to leave youkai! Do I have to call security?”

Inuyasha breathed out slowly, trying to keep any trace of anger out of his voice, even though he wanted to let rip. He’d found out the hard way that security tended to not ask questions, just see his youkai traits and assume the worst.

“And I already told you, another employee was taking a look out the back for me. She told me to wait here for her.”

“Yeah, like I’d believe anything one of you would have to say. You’re all the same. What are hidin’ under that hat huh? Some kinda weird freakish thing I’d bet. ”

“Inuyasha!”

Inuyasha turned, his eyes lighting up as Kagome appeared. But she wasn’t wearing the wide smile she had when she left. She was stomping towards them, a box tucked tightly under her arm, the scowl on her face impressive. Thankfully that scowl was not directed at him.

He could smell the nervousness pouring off of her, but you never would have thought it looking at the way she faced off with her work colleague, stepping in front of him like she wanted to shield him from this man's ire with her much smaller body.

“Ryan, I’m handling this customer. And I’ve already found what he needed, so there’s no reason for you to be here. I think you’ve probably said enough.”

There was the barest trace of a tremble in her voice, and Inuyasha moved in closer behind her, wanting her to feel like he was there to support her. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he didn’t like it.

Ryan rolled his eyes and then sneered at her, his voice low and vicious.

“Ha. Shoulda known it would be you Kagome. Such a helpful little kiss ass. Why don’t you turn that cute little tush of yours around and head back to the ladies department where you belong, unless you’re still that desperate for some demon tail.”

“What?”

Ryan grinned at the shocked expression on Kagome’s face, posturing like he’d somehow scored a point. “Bit ironic really, you working in the ladies department when you’re anything but. A human ain't good enough for Kagome, huh? Wasn’t it bad enough that the last guy you had got fired, now you’re after customers too? You really are a-“

“Don’t. Say. Another. Word.”

Both Kagome and Ryan flinched at the snarled words behind them.

“Kagome, call your manager”, said Inuyasha gruffly. “I wanna report this guy.”

“It’s my word against yours demon, and little Kagome’s not gonna say anything, are you Kagome, because you’re fuckin’ pathetic. There’s nothin’ you can report me for”, snorted Ryan.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d probably pick being a racist arsehole, for starters”, said another voice cheerfully. "Then maybe we could add workplace harassment."

A tall man in a tailored suit stepped into view, his dark hair slicked back into a short ponytail. He was holding his phone up, obviously still recording the whole thing.

“Here I was, minding my own business in the Lego aisle while I looked for the perfect birthday gift for my little girls, and what should I hear? An employee bad mouthing a customer, when the customer had been nothing but polite and civil. Don’t worry about proof, I’m happy to be a witness. I was recording the whole thing. From the very first racist slur that left your lips.”

Kagome’s eyes were wide as she glanced from the ponytailed man back to Ryan, and Inuyasha could hear her heart beating frantically. He nodded at her approvingly as she took a deep breath, her hand steady on the button on her headset.

“Jak, it’s Kagome”, she said, her voice a little breathless, but firm. “Can you-“

Ryan lunged towards her.

“Don’t you dare, you fuckin’ bitch!”

Inuyasha ducked out from behind Kagome, his fist grabbing the back of Ryan’s shirt and lifting him into the air, Ryan’s legs kicking frantically as he tried to escape. Before Kagome could move out of the way, his steel capped boot caught her on the chin. She dropped like a stone, crumpling to the floor in a heap.

“Fuck, Kagome!”

Inuyasha swung Ryan out of the way and dropped him none too gently, all his focus on the small woman laying prone on the slightly grubby linoleum floor, still out for the count. He could hear a scuffle behind him as the man in the suit and a few other observers struggled to keep Ryan contained, but he no longer cared about him. He knelt down close to her, gently stroking the glossy dark hair back from her face.

“Kagome, can you hear me?”

Inuyasha shook Kagome’s shoulder gently, trying to rouse her, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Inuyasha?” she said groggily, her arm tightening around the box, a wobbly smile on her face. “I got your doll.”

❤

It took a while to sort everything out. An ambulance was called, and the police. The police took statements from Inuyasha, Kagome and the man in the suit, Miroku. Ryan was fired on the spot, and Jak was positively gleeful, despite the mountain of paperwork he’d have to fill out before he went home that evening. When the paramedic suggested that Kagome should go to the hospital to be checked for possible concussion, Inuyasha had immediately said he’d like to go with her, if that was alright with Kagome, and after a few polite remarks about it not being necessary, she’d gratefully accepted. Jak had positively pushed them into the ambulance together, waving them off with a bright smile. It was the most exciting evening shift he’d had in years.

❤

“You don’t have to stay you know. I’ll be fine, I’ll just get an Uber home.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, his arm resting on the edge of Kagome's hospital bed.

“For the tenth time woman, I don’t mind. I want to be here when the doctor examines you to make sure you’re okay. And then I wanna make sure you get home safe.” He sighed as he looked at the dark purpling bruise on Kagome’s chin. “I’m just sorry I didn’t throw that fucker down to the end of the aisle when I had the chance.”

“But it’s so late! It’s almost 2am, and you have the party to go to tomorrow. Today I mean.”

“Eh, that’s hours away. She won’t mind if I’m a little late, Rin’s a nice kid. And now I have the perfect present, thanks to you.”

Kagome was quiet for a while. The silence grew to feel uncomfortable, because Inuyasha could sense how tense Kagome suddenly was.

“Inuyasha… I want to explain. About what Ryan said to me.”

“Hmm?” He could smell nervousness again, billowing around her like a cloud, and he didn’t like it. “Doesn’t matter, none of my business.”

“But I want to”, she said, her voice taking on a stubborn edge.

“Fine, I’ll listen. But nothin’ you can say will change my good opinion of you. You stepped up for me back there Kagome, and that don’t happen for me much. I will always remember that.”

Kagome reached out her hand to lightly grasp the clawed one sitting next to her on the bed, and squeezed it.

“Thank you.”

He squeezed back.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyway”, she sighed. “About what Ryan said. I started working at that department store when I was still in high school, as a weekend job. And there was this training manager, a kitsune. He’d come around every so often, and all the girls thought he was really good looking. He had a little green sports car; a lot of the other girls thought was really important. They all were flirting with him, and then he asked me out. I was so surprised. I mean, me! I’m nothing special! He was so stylish, and so charming. I really thought…” Kagome laughed but it had no humour in it, and Inuyasha squeezed her hand again. She shrugged, her shoulders coming up around her ears as her face turned away from him.

“I was so stupid! It turned out I was right about being nothing special, because he was going out with a couple of girls at every store that he visited.” She flinched a little at Inuyasha’s low growl of disapproval. “There were around ten of us. And because a couple of us were under aged, he was charged. Lost his job. Ryan found out about it a few months ago and thought-“

“Don’t say it”, said Inuyasha gruffly, squeezing her hand again. “Don’t matter what he thought. It’s in the past. And the Kagome I saw tonight was amazing.”

“No I wasn’t!” Kagome shook her head, then winced as her head throbbed, realising that was a bad idea. “I was so scared Inuyasha! I’ve never been able to stand up to him before. But I couldn’t stand the thought of him being mean to you!”

“Then you’re even braver than I thought.” Inuyasha entwined his fingers with hers, and cleared his throat. “Kagome, I know you don’t know me. But I think I’d like to get to know you. Could I call you? Maybe we could go out for coffee or somethin’? I mean you don’t gotta answer, and if you don’t wanna, I totally understand, I mean-“

“Yes.” Kagome giggled at the wide toothy grin on Inuyasha’s face. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in.”

“Wait. Maybe you should see what all’a me looks like before you say yes.”

Inuyasha tugged off his beanie, revealing the pointed white dog ears on top of his head. “If you wanna change your mind, I-“

“They’re so cute!” squeaked Kagome. “Please give me your phone!”

❤

Kagome woke up the next morning very late, so late that it was no longer morning at all.

It had been 3am by the time Inuyasha had dropped her home with a bag of painkillers and the Doctor’s instructions for treating her mild concussion. He’d helped her into bed, placed her medicine and a glass of water next to the bed for her, kissed her softly on the cheek and whispered goodnight, closing the door behind him.

She rubbed her cheek gently at the memory of that small kiss, a smile on her face. She still had a headache, so she took two of the tablets, then reached for her phone on the bedside table where it had been charging.

There were two messages.

The birthday girl loves her present! Attached was a picture of a smiling Inuyasha kneeling with his arm around a little girl in a checked orange party dress and sparkly sandals, her dark hair up in pig tails. A wide excited grin split her face, revealing the gap of a missing front tooth. The doll was clutched tightly in her hand, and she was wearing the necklace that came with it.

I told Rin how brave you were, and she wanted you to have some birthday cake. Can I bring some over when you wake up? 🍰

Kagome smiled almost as wide as Rin, despite her headache.

I’d love you to ❤

#inukag week #inukag week 2021 #battle couple #all the fluff #it's now 3am and I'm a tired tired Mama Bear #but at least I got one prompt in on time

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