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insomniac-dot-ink · 3 years

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Headlights Girl

Genre: Urban fantasy + wlw romance

Words: approx. 8k

Summary: The story of a girl with headlamps for eyes and the moth-girl she meets along the way.

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Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the dunes, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they each shrank away deep into nooks and crannies of their cages. Most things do when I look at them.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There were even stranger kids born in the Age of Spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy who could breath fire. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father called it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He didn’t look at me much growing up. And I knew what he meant. I knew what he was getting at by calling it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or a left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names, gone more often than not.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. She’d wail, just a bit, and then find a new thing to wail over. They could barely afford to send me to That School. They could barely afford the special doctor’s appointments for my eyes. They barely knew what to do with me.

Sometimes, I wanted to shout right back: It’s not like I didn’t want to be here either!

But she wasn’t talking to me.

School wasn’t much better. We weren’t the same, not really. None of us were the same age or had the same affliction. Plus, most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or I had a pig-nose or unibrow. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he ran away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I was 16 when I heel-toed my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with loose clothes, change, a bath towel, three books with broken spines, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he was at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at the mart and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There was a beer in front of his idle hands and he still wore his rumpled work shirt. He glanced at the bag on my shoulder for a long minute.

Finally, he sighed like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafed through a wad of cash he kept in a safe. He handed me almost three hundred bucks and we nodded at each other. At the time, I thought there was a kind of satisfaction to that nod, an endnote.

I was out the door before the midnight bus arrived.

Only three people were at the terminal. None of them looked at me with my pack and my knife stuffed in one hand and my eyes glowing. They did look at the glow, but not for long.

Remote and empty like maybe the world had ended and the last bits of if were nothing but strangers not making eye contact.

Finally, I watched the headlights of the midnight bus approach through dense summer night. I was struck by the thought that it was like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I got on the bus and kicked my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet moved like tides. They tossed me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I stumbled into the painted deserts toward the west. I dipped my toes into the neon districts of the east with lights brighter than my own. I slept on benches and in kid’s treehouses and hunched my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touched me. Maybe they’d approach now and then, but I’d open my eyes and they’d see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that would smite them. I was the daughter of spirits after all.

I found my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gathered and it was easy to stretch out on empty pieces of warm sand. I didn’t talk much by then, I didn’t like to; people stared whether I was speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it ached. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’d never seen a movie in any theatres, but I could imagine what it’s like.

It was crowded, but I liked that ocean city, despite myself. It had pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding sidewalks where cars couldn’t fit, reckless bikers, and crushed seashell parking lots. I liked the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkled from the ocean water as it sun-dried. I camp out on beaches and bummed cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I was good at taking care of myself once I got into a rhythm.

I had a tent by then and even an enormous sun umbrella to keep any prying eyes away. I still liked to sleep under the stars most nights though.

I often dreamed of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dreamed of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I’d be weighted down through the cold and the silence to where no human being had ever been. I’d open my eyes there, open them all the way, lightning-bright, and unflinching. In my dreams, the salt didn’t even sting. I lit up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I’d do something good then. Maybe I’d do something good and bring the sun to places that had forgotten it.

I hated those dreams.

I met Mags on the beach after one of those dreams. Mags had one eye and twelve teeth and carried around nothing but string and scissors everywhere. She smelled like seawater and burning kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes were neat despite her leather-cracked skin and arms and neck covered in tattoos of shipwrecks. We ran into each other at some bum gathering and she cackled and pulled me aside.

“What’s your name?” Her voice was old creaking wood. I didn’t answer. “I could give you one.” She offered with a grin that was more empty space than anything.

“Nana.” I gritted out. “You want something?”

“Not sure. What do you want, kid?”

I glared openly, my beam of light slanting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come here.”

I didn’t know why I was chosen.

Mags liked me more than I deserved. I pocketed her last pair of socks when she wasn’t looking. She never mentioned it and dragged me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She took me to the soup and salad restaurant for something that wasn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackled, she spat when she talked, people shot her looks as well.

I thought she was normal, not touched by the spirits, but she liked me more than most people and I didn’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snapped back.

“Lippy squirt. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heated the needle before she used it, red hot and untouchable. She dipped it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she called them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin and clean it. She showed me how to slowly, painstakingly etch images. I wasn’t sure I liked it, there was something so permanent and intentional about the act.

I watched her lessons though: stick and poke to her right foot, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It took her six hours to make a tiny shipwreck right above her big toe. It was a narrow schooner going under and I was the only witness. She made the waves come to life and crash against its sides and sometimes I forgot to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washed another needle. She heated it red-hot. She dipped it in ink and handed it to me.

I still wasn’t sure I liked the permanence of it, but I told myself I was bored and it was something to do. I decided quickly I did like the bite of it, I liked the focus it took, and the ability to pull something from nothing.

I practiced all over my thighs first, there was enough meat there and it was easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looked like nothing but squiggles, a TV set playing static, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practiced designs in the sand and then on paper when Mags splurged on pen and paper.

Mags took me to the museum on Sundays. They were always free on Sundays.

Something stirred in my chest, even as the guards yelled at us about how flash photography wasn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I was shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rotted roared to life in my chest.

I stabbed in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake on my wrist, and then finally, something good, something that gave people pause and reason to stare. I made it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and yet simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than any of the others.

That was a good year or so; one of the best I could remember.

I didn’t want to leave the ocean city though and Mags said she had to keep moving. She had places to be. She gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackled. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winked as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I wanted to make her pinky-promise like I was a kid again begging one of the others to tell me if I’m beautiful when I close my eyes. I couldn’t do that; I waved as she tottered up the steps of the bus and was taken away with the tides of her own feet.

A had a moment of thinking it was the end then; I was ready to get back to my real normal. I was ready to disappear again. But even shipwrecks with no witnesses leave things left to be found.

------------ I got an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked them into it and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but couch surfing and camping out was the pastime of the especially young. And I’d lost my giant umbrella.

It was a small shop that smelled like bleach and dried flowers. A tattoo parlor in one of the steep arts districts neighbored by food trucks and beaded necklace shops.

Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie ran it together. Davies walked like he’d never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie had a throw-pillow embroidered with “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies was covered in nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie had topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’d been asked to leave a number of stores before the children started staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me. It was not that type of town. I rankled at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. Where are you from? What’s your family name? What kind of school did you go to? Is your sight better than other people you think?

I brushed off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie called me “Shadow” probably as a joke, probably. Davies said I must be possessed by the ghost of some dead star: a blackhole that takes everything in and lets nothing out.

Neither of them let me touch a needle in those first six months. They had me practice on pig skin and trace designs and stand by their shoulders as they worked. I felt like a dental assistant except I was the hanging light shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stood at their shoulder as they drew thick lines and thin dots and made hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They asked me to stand still and stop wiggling the light. I almost walked out several to find a new cliff to crash against, almost.

No one had ever expected anything of me before. They never expected me to show up somewhere or do something well. No one really cared if I went to school or if I did my homework, if I dressed well or went to bed on time. And no one kept any tabs on me at all after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, tattooing didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow,” she barked. She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I was eloquent in the mornings.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want that desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

“Are you serious?”

“Serious as a root canal. Mags swore up and down about what you. Let’s see some of that, up, up!”

I grumbled. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before and 9am shouldn’t have even been a concept much less a real thing. I told myself I hated it. I’d leave the next week. Or maybe the week after that or in just one more month. I kept a bus ticket under my pillow but every time the date arrived I shrugged and made myself busy.

There’d be no harm in having a savings too and seeing what all the fuss was about with having a dishwasher and a kitchen.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with me, my eyes. I didn’t let up though. I put on pants for it after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder when I made my first real design.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. It was hard to tell. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a painful surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “That line was barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” I challenged. He chuckled darkly. His grin was crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.”

“It’s late.” The rest of the street was dark. I knew that.

“I said I’m not done yet! You can go home.”

“Hmm.” He scratched his grey beard.

“What?”

“Look at you. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun after that. I told myself I’d only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I didn’t have to actually stay. I’d just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chased after girls with eyes that glow.

I didn’t break my lease. I drew suns and moons, trees and fireflies, hunks in speedos on tipsy college girls who swore they were sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I had to give two refunds for a duck that turned out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with perfectly white piano-key teeth. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I was best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It was dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hid my smile when I finished and showed her the results in the mirror. She went to my bosses and jumped up and down. She pointed and babbled, ohmyspirits, the best thing I’ve ever seen! Fuck. I should pay you double! Where did you get this girl?

I held myself perfectly still and studied the ceiling until my eyes dried out.

I took the long way home that night. I stopped once, at the corner where the midnight bus arrived, and watched the the passengers trudge off. I didn’t expect to see Mags again so soon, not really, but sometimes I wanted to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

---------------- “I’m getting you chocolate.” Annie spat, her thick arms flexing as she cleaned off the spotless counter. “I’m getting you fucking chocolate, Shadow, ‘less you tell me what flavor you actually like.”

I hung at the back of the shop next to the narrow window that faced the road. I let the sun warm my face in thick strips and watched the bicycles pass. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Tell us what your actual birthday is then, you sugar-toasted tart.”

I shrugged. “Not today.”

“Well happy fucking birthday. You’re turning two. You came to work for us two years ago today, washed up from the beach like a deranged feral cat, so this is your birthday now.”

I rolled my eyes which served to look like a flashlight given a shake. Annie spent another minute splashing disinfectant on anything that might have had even a passing conversation with a germ.

“You talk to Birdie?” She asked, but mischievously this time. I responded by setting my mouth in a hard line. “You’re turning twenty-something and you’re not even talking to Birdie, are ya?”

“I’m not telling you what I’m turning. It’s still not my birthday.” I dodged inelegantly.

“Birdie will give you a proper go-around. Even shadows like you must need a little rub now and then.”

“Go dunk your head, Annie.” I huffed.

“Afraid you’ll blind her in bed?”

I turned with a snarl. “I’ll start with you.”

“I’ve seen you flipping through those poetry books, every word about hands or mouths or rosebuds.” She gave me flat a once-over. “You’ve got a sweet tooth in you.”

I dragged myself over to the desk to snarl at her some more, but Annie was already putting her hand up and going toward the backroom.

“I’m getting you a chocolate cake either way.”

There must have been a proper way to get her to never look at my little leather poetry books again, the ones with watermarked pages, the spines broken-in, and words that oozed. No one had to know that I could read, much less that I read that.

The door dinged instead.

“Excuse me.” She walked in. Her. “Is someone, um, named Nana here?” I turned before I could stop myself. That was still my name. And it was still my work.

Twenty-something, curtains of straight black hair falling in her face, pinched nose, thin energetic lips, shorts that gave way to milk-dipped legs that never seemed to end. A slight girl in a university t-shirt. College kids came in often during their breaks, but this one was a bit different. My eyes dragged up and fish-hooked there.

Feathered tendrils sprouted from her head and reached toward the ceiling. Long and searching, a pearly green color that reminded you of leaves or plumage.

I knew within a moment where I’d heard of this: Antennae Girl. The newspapers ran our stories close together along with the boy that breathed fire and the girl with roots growing from her head. We were all born in the same year during the epoch of monsters and bastards.

I think she recognized me too.

We stopped like heartbeats seizing up before the ambulance could make it. A confused, unnatural silence. I glanced at the door and considered making a run for it.

She cleared her throat first.

“Someone said that Misty’s butterfly tattoo came from here?” She blinked once and I noticed how her feathered antennae seemed to twitch. I averted my eyes so I wouldn’t blind her. She took a step forward. “So are you . . . Nana?”

The door was right there.

“What do you want?” I had been spending too much time with Bitch-Annie.

“A tattoo?”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then why are you here?” I grunted. Footsteps came in from the back room. I was examining the smudged off-white tiles of the floor one by one.

“I wanted to . . . hey, you can look up if you want.” She said, curiously, softly. I didn’t look up. “I’m still figuring out the design.” She trudged on ahead.

“Fine.” I pivoted away. “But we’re busy. Come back later.”

A hand slapped across my shoulder. “This is Nana.” Annie stopped me from leaving. “Don’t let her eyes fool ya, it’s her personality that’s actually the problem. You saw her butterfly you said?”

“Yes!” She gushed. “It was gorgeous.”

“It was fine,” I corrected.

“It’s her birthday today.” Annie shared because she could and because she was a failed evil villain still trying to get her kicks in.

“Oh cool, happy Birthday.” A deep pause followed that could fill oceans. “You can look up. I don’t mind.” She repeated.

I opened my eyes wide and lifted my chin in one jerky motion. A beam of fluorescent headlights hit her across the face. “Is this what you want?” Venom dripped from my lips. This was why I tried not to talk too much.

The young woman squinted for a moment before covering her eyes and nodding. “I read about you,” she stated as if it was nothing. “I’m turning twenty-two this year . . . so I guess, you are too?”

“What?!” Delight filled Annie’s entire expression. “Hot damn! Twenty-two?” I groaned deeply. “Hey, you, girlie,” she addressed antennae-girl, “you want to come out for drinks tonight?”

I tried to protest as quickly as possible, but somehow didn’t summon the words quickly enough.

“Sure.” She agreed. ----------------------

The night was humid and clung to us like a second skin. I wandered through the hilly streets with Penguin Davies wobbling beside me. The desk kid—Daft Jeff, said Davies had some inner-ear problem that made it hard for him to keep his balance. Annie said he just didn’t belong on land— he couldn’t walk straight unless something was tilting and rolling under his feet.

Davies made his way up the hill, faltering and missing the musical beats of it. He refused to let me steady him and I refused to have him sing to me. It was apparently my birthday.

“Someone saw your design.” He noted on the downhill.

“Yeah. Some college girl.” I grumbled.

“What’d you think?” He asked in his usual mysterious way.

“She just wants a good look.” I returned in a neutral tone. “She read about me in the paper. All she wants to do is look.”

“She saw your design.” He paused. “And Jeff said she was like you.”

I blinked hard so the path ahead was eaten by shadow and Davies stumbled. “Not all of us have to be friends . . .” I said sourly and didn’t fill in the rest. “I’ve met kids with antlers and frog-hands before. I doesn’t mean anything.”

“Any of them come visit?”

“They’re smart enough not to.” I snark. “But the ones who manage to be pretty don’t have the brains to stay away.”

“Mm.” He made a soft sound. “What kind of tattoo do you think she’ll get?”

“How should I know? A heart or anchor or something dumb like that.” I walked on ahead. “Maybe I’ll give her a quote from some dead poet.”

“You like poetry.”

I huff dramatically, “Not what I mean. Girls like her don’t like my type of poetry, you know I’m saying.”

“What kind of girls?” Davies was patient. I hated that about him.

I stopped at the corner to let him catch up. “Don’t play dumb. Hot ones, college ones, getting a degree in money or music. They don’t watch over their shoulders enough or know when to stay away.” I scuffed my shoe on the ground. “Whatever.”

Davies was still thinking. I considered pushing him over. He finally spoke up again as we approach the bar, “That sea witch ever show up again?”

“Mags?” I snorted. “No. Why?”

“Cause I’m sure she’d like to see this.”

I didn’t say anything else as we reached the doorway. -------------------- The bar was loud. More people than I liked came to my “party.” I should have seen it coming. If the cliff city liked one thing it was an excuse to drink.

I crammed myself up against the bar and ordered a gin and tonic before the rest of the night crowd could arrive. Birdy was holding court at a corner table and waving at me. “There she is! Someone put a blanket over Nana, lights out, party up!”

Her puns usually left something to be desired. She sang “Blinded by the Light” every time she saw me for half a year.

I drank half my gin and tonic in the first gulp as a new stream of townies burst in. They arrived to buy me birthday beers and shout their opinions on the shitty new chain restaurant on 3rd street. I was almost tasting the bottom of my second glass when someone tapped on my shoulder.

I barely looked over.

The girl with sheets of black hair and a practiced-appearance stood before me—like she was at dress rehearsal and expected everyone else to know the lines as well. She carried a baby-blue bike helmet in one hand, and I noted there were two hand-drilled holes in the top.

“You.” I was tempted to shake her hand like I might make this a transactional hello and goodbye in short order.

“Hey.” She smiled, hesitant, like maybe the food on the fork might be too hot. “Nana, right?”

“Yep.” I sighed the word real long and heavy. “Listen, I really can’t give you a tattoo if you don’t know what you want.”

“No, no, I get it. But I want you to know . . . I didn’t know it was you.”

“Uh, okay. Though I’m pretty hard to miss over here.” I was looking at the dirty wine bottles stacked near the ceiling. Her antennae hang over both of us like fern fronds.

“No. I mean, when I saw the butterfly. That’s when I wanted to come here. Not after.”

“After what?” I was gonna make her say it.

“After I found that it was, well, you know, Headlights Girl.”

“Mm.” I was spending too much time with Davies. “You want something to drink?”

She sighed as well, real long and heavy. “Sure.” She took the seat next to me. “I’m Park by the way.”

“Park.” I rolled the name around in my mouth. “And you already know me.”

“I don’t think I do.” She laughed, sharp and bristly like something you can get cut on. “And I’ll have a beer. . . but only once you look up. Come on, I’m not like that.” I looked up. Her face was bright, round like the moon, her grin was sneaky and unearned. “There we go.”

She waved over the bartender Kipp and ordered her dark beer.

“It’s not really my birthday.” I informed her, dumbly. Every word felt dumb and clumsy all at once.

“Why not?” She was teasing. I knew that.

“That’s not how birthdays work.” I informed and wished I could backtrack into hostility again.

“Oh darn,” she winked. “And here I was about to make it my birthday too.”

“Uh, well,” I really should have left when I had the chance. “It’s not too late?”

“That’s the spirit!” She laughed, fuller this time and rounded. I looked her straight in the face and then quickly looked away again. Her grin was aimed at me, somehow, and seemed to reach high cupboards inside me you usually needed a stool for.

“Park,” I repeated the name and shifted in place. “So did you go to Haveryards or Simmons?” There were only two schools in the country for spirit bastards like us. Haveryards was close enough for me to get bussed to—an hour one way and then an hour home.

“Neither. I went to public and then Bakerville Uni.” She rapped on the counter. “Hey, you want another gin and tonic? Or I’ll mix you up something.” Her eyes flickered over everything. “I bartended my way through college so I can make a mean margarita.”

“Oh, Bakerville U., yeah. That ones close.” I stuttered a bit. She was leaning across the counter and trying to get Kipp’s attention a second time. My words were feeling dumber and dumber by the moment, perhaps losing all shape and meaning altogether. “That’s where you went?”

“How’d you guess?” She said playfully and pointed to her t-shirt. She finally got the bartender over. “Right, you want something hard? Vodka maybe? A mule?”

I scratched my chin. “ . . . I don’t care. I’m easy.”

She rolled her eyes and I knew she must feel me staring. “I can’t imagine shopping for you for today then.” She snickered and climbed over the counter. “Happy birthday, how about one chocolate mule for a free tattoo?”

“You wish.” I made a face. “You don’t even know what you want.”

“And you do?” She was still grinning, somehow. “I’ve decided I’m making you the equivalent of all the soda flavors mixed together at once. Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes and I tried to turn off my thoughts. It was bright as knives inside my skull; I carry the daytime with me. Panic threatened to rise up (for no reason of course), but a soft hand brushed against mine, soft like sheets in fancy hotels and flower petals. I peaked and Park slid a full murky glass toward me.

“Drink up.”

It was sweet. It wasn’t even my birthday. I didn’t care. She called it a chocolate-mule-Park Special and maybe chocolate really was my favorite flavor. -------------- Park started coming around. She rode a sky-blue bike with a white basket and rusting hinges. I couldn’t imagine doing all the hills in the city without any gears, but she managed. She said she was figuring things out after graduating. She said she liked it here.

I grumbled when she came by. I complained like Annie when Wicker the cat visited: Get that thing away from me. I hate that. Smells awful. I’ve got allergies. Put that away, it’ll kill me.

I never said anything when Annie left fish heads out and bowls of milk of course.

Park smelled like sunscreen and breath mints. She had strong opinions on everything from street paving techniques to which sun hats went with which dresses. She invited me on walks. She invited me to help her change a flat tire. She invited me to the corner shop to help her pick out bottle can openers.

I said no. Sometimes I said no. I started to say yes.

“Look at this,” she liked to show me things. She liked to show me pictures of squirrels on her phone and weird pieces of glass she found. She liked to point out new restaurants (that I’d already been to) and play videos of funny traffic jams.

This time she held up a seashell. It was rounded and flat with a swirl in the center.

“I’m looking.” I said carefully.

“Watch how it catches light.” I shun my eyes on it and she moved it back and forth. There were bits of silver veins caught in the cracks of it.

“There’s tons of those.” At this point, I had valiantly refused to be impressed by even her cutest squirrel pictures.

“Ugh.” She pouted. “Are you kidding? I spent all morning looking for this.”

“They're right by the surf. I could find you five bigger ones than this before sunset.”

“Alright, hot-shot.” She jut her chin out and jabbed my shoulder. “Prove it.”

I said yes to that one. I left right after my shift ended with the sun setting in the waters like a stabbed orange bleeding out. I met Park by the parking lot with drooping palms trees lining the sides and lost flipflops everywhere.

“This is where you went wrong.” I announced. I couldn’t help it. “This is the tourist beach. You have to go somewhere real.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already established you’re the hot-shot here. Lead the way.”

She followed me. I ignored how she lingered by my side. I ignored how her hand wrapped around my arm as she stopped us to look at a tiny horseshoe crab. Her hand was soft, like velvet, soft enough to smother something in my chest.

I found two seashells with streaks of silver and rainbow through them, both bigger than my palm. The sun was a flat line on the horizon before I could find a third and Park hooted.

“You said before sunset! It’s sunset, baby, pay up.” She called. “And you were so sure you were a better seashell hunter than me.” She tsked.

I scanned the ground more quickly. “It’s barely nighttime.” I pointed to the sky. “And I can keep looking. I have the built-in equipment for it.”

“Oh I know.” She planted herself on the soggy crusted sand and sat down in a heap. “But can you find why kids love the taste of not doing that? Take it easy. Take a seat.”

“So pushy.”

“You know me.” It was fond. It had only been a few months, but there was something fond there.

I ran a hand through my short choppy curls. “Fine.” I sat next to her, not too close. “It’s your loss.” We both looked out at the gently lapping waves, foaming and anemic. She let a long breath of air and for a moment I considered brushing her hair back. It was always in her face.

It was a quiet moment, bottled, and pitching toward something. Like the the moment where you miss a step on the stairs and the certainty of the fall was right there.

I was the one that scooted a little closer.

“I’m considering getting a storm cloud,” she commented off-handedly. “Can you do storm clouds?”

I made a sound of consideration. “Sure.” I glanced toward the opposite corner of the night sky. “I think I’ve seen one of those before. Big puffy wet things?”

“Kinda fluffy? You’re getting there.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I’m smiling, which is alright since there’s no way she could see it. She’s silent for another moment longer.

“Or would you make fun of me if I got something like a butterfly? Like your other one.”

“A storm cloud butterfly?”

“No. The cloud would it’s own thing.” She chewed on her bottom lip, ragged and chapped. “I mean, I’ve been doodling some ideas. And tattoos should be personal, right? So I thought a storm cloud might be fitting. Kids used to pay me a couple dollars to predict the weather. It could be a memorial to childhood entrepreneurial spirit.”

I watched her speak and something beat inside my chest like a second animal. I wanted to be closer. I wanted to feel velvet again.

“Why?” I rasped after a moment.

“Uh, why did they pay me? It’s just something I can do. Whenever it's going to rain or storm or be sunny out. I dunno, I don’t know why the rest of you can’t sense it.”

“And you didn’t become a meteorologist?” I smiled a bit bitterly.

She made an indignant noise. “And you didn’t become a professional lighthouse?”

I choked on a laugh. “Not yet.” A quiet consumed us from both sides, I made sure my light didn’t crash into her. I made sure to look at anything but her. She’d have to squint if I did and cover her eyes and I’d be there, ready to run her over.

“Kids in my class paid me too.” I barely realized I started speaking. “They slipped me a couple bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face.”

“You got money for that?”

“There wasn’t always much to do. Teachers were quitting all the time and sometimes it was just the TV. I dunno, they paid me. Then they’d giggle and run away afterward.” My voice sounded automated like the announcer at an airport, informing travelers their flight was canceled. “They always said I had a pig nose or a unibrow or looked like the lead singer of that Minx girl band-- super hot, but you know, it didn’t matter.” The laugh that escaped was high, girlish in a grotesque way. “Since, you know, no one would ever see it.”

“Kids are fucked up.” Park contributed simply.

“Adults are too.” I sniffed. “Everyone wants a light show.”

“Oh.” She said slowly. “Is it . . . is it bad I wanted to meet you then? I mean, I wanted to see the art first, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor.”

“No.” I said quickly. I lit up my own lap and empty hands. “Does it matter?”

“I never went to those schools,” she said hesitantly. “My parents fought them, said the schools were unfit. They shouldn’t be able to force us there. And that I wasn’t even dangerous since,” she gestured helplessly upward, “I just have these. So then, well, I never really met anyone else like me.”

“I mean, everyone’s different. It’s not . . . a big deal.”

“You’d think so,” she commented sardonically.

I folded up into myself like a complex origami piece. “Yeah, well, sometimes I wish I was dangerous. Actually dangerous.”

She giggled. “Didn’t you just say everyone’s different? I’d say everyone’s dangerous too. Just gotta find the niche.”

“Oh yeah,” I dared to turn toward her. “What’s yours then?”

“My danger niche? Hmm.” She was leaning now, pitching forward like a wave come to drown me. “I do have a few tricks up my sleeve I’ll admit.”

“You have a pair of wings hidden away?” I stopped breathing as her hand lifted up, strange and all at once. I wasn’t ready.

“Here.” Her skin was against mine. She cupped my cheek with one velvet-hand. It was heated cashmere, tiny feather-light hairs on her palm. “Feelers.” She whispered with a hesitancy there.

“Ah,” I was indulgent. I closed my eyes. I leaned in. “And you want to put a needle over these?” I put my hand over hers, loosely, so she could pull away if she wanted to. Tiny hairs pulsed there with some kind of life all their own.

“I wanted . . .” She paused and I peaked open my eyes. I could see every detail of her face, illuminated. “I dunno.” She finished. “I guess I just wanted whatever I saw there, before.”

“In the butterfly?”

“In the butterfly.” I turned toward the ocean, but my hand remained over hers. “I’m not sure how good it will be a second time. It’s not like I’m really an artist. . .”

“What did you want to be?” Soft.

“Who knows. I mean, I’m glad my parents didn’t try to fight the schools. Being there during the day was better than being home, listening to my mom crying all the time and my father exploding . . . They wouldn’t have wanted me home.”

Before the sunset, when I was walking over, I thought maybe we’d kiss that night. I thought I’d feel that first electric pulse and maybe we’d climb into the ocean and swim in circles, laugh until the moon rose. I thought maybe I’d get something out of my system and there wouldn’t be anything left to say or do.

I’d kiss Park, once, and she’d be satisfied. She’d understand. She’d go on her college path and I’d go on on mine.

But the words spilled out, unbidden. Park stayed in place, steady and unflinching. That made it worse, so much worse.

“My parents weren’t like yours.” There was an accusatory edge to it. Don’t you know? I wanted to shout. Don’t you know? Even without the eyes or the school bills or the bus.

“Hey,” she cradled my cheeks with both hands now and smeared the tears away from one eye. “Hey, listen, I know. Alright? I know.”

I scowled back at her feathered little feelers.

“It’s not about the damn antenna or head beams or anything else.” I tried to pull away. “Even the kid with the antler’s kissed me and I didn’t stop him. I ran away from home and my mom never came looking. It didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! You wouldn’t even get it. You wouldn’t get it!” I squeeze my eyes closed. “You were wanted.”

Slowly, like an awkward animal burrowing into soft earth, she pressed her forehead to the crook of my neck. I could feel us both breathing in, strong and steady. She was lean and silky, and I swore I can feel her heartbeat hammering through my throat.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. I inhaled her sunscreen scent. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know. But I could.”

“Why are you here?” It was miserable and wet, I hated that my eyes were so different and yet still the same. Could still spill over like theirs. She took a long breath but didn’t move away.

“My last girlfriend broke up with me for being . . . sensitive and I thought maybe if I got a tattoo, I’d stop feeling so much. I’d prove something. I’d feel everything less, you know? It would hurt and then it wouldn’t.”

I took that in a parsec at time. “Are you,” I sniffed. “Are you alright?” Her legs and arms were plastered over mine. “You’re so soft, but, but I don’t want to,” I wipe at my face like it didn’t matter. “Hurt you.”

“I know.” Her face was still pressed to my neck and her lips fluttered across the hallow of my skin. “I didn’t want to hurt you either.”

A stillness settled into my bones. I glanced toward the moon, and it was like looking at like, a terrible moon to another moon. I gathered myself. I took a deep breath. I flattened.

“I shouldn’t have said all that.” My voice had dried up. “We led different lives.” It wasn’t her fault if she was wanted.

“No.”

“I wasn’t thinking . . .”

Her hand wrapped around my wrist. “I talk to Annie sometimes when you aren’t there.”

“Okay?”

“And Davies. And that front desk guy.”

“Daft Jeff. Yes.”

“They all say the same thing . . .” I blinked a couple times. “That I really should wait for you to give me the tattoo. You have a steady hand and an eye for detail.”

“Alright . . .”

“That someone taught you tattooing the right way. They wanted to show you the right way to do it.”

I snorted despite myself. “It’s not that hard. Mags was batty. Who knows why she showed me how to pick up a needle.”

“Don’t you see? They say they wouldn’t know what to do without you.” She was still there. She wasn’t moving, almost in my lap now. “You were wanted.”

“Park?” My voice cracked like a question.

“And you come with me to restaurants and help me buy bottle openers. You find shells for me and help me fix tires.” Her breath was hot and dragged across my cheek. “You are wanted.”

I blocked out her face, her voice, I turned on the sharp white sun inside and for a moment I imagine never opening my eyes back up again. Maybe I could make it night forever inside myself as well. Wouldn’t you rather have something quiet inside?

She wrapped herself around me, fully, one long arm at a time until it was cocoon. Soft. “Listen, sometimes the first people aren’t the right people. Sometimes your first relationship isn’t the right relationship. Sometimes you’re sure the world is one way, and like, always one way . . . and then it rains and the whole world is different again. You know? People pass.”

“My parents aren’t the weather.”

“But they’ll pass.” I should have pushed her off. But even against that, even those words— I liked being held, indulgent as chocolate and twice as guilty. “People sometimes feel forever, especially those kinds of people.” I was off again. “But it rains. And hey, I always know when it’s going to rain.”

I hiccupped; a smile found its way uninvited onto my face, unsure and just wobbly on its feet as Davies. I glanced down after a deep breath. Park grinned back at me and it reached the highest shelves of me all over again.

“So what happens when it rains again? Do you people like you pass?”

“Nah, not me. I don’t know how.” She winked. I didn’t notice that we’re lying flat now, stars and carpet of black above. “You can’t get rid of me. You haven’t given me that tattoo yet.”

The sound of shushing waves filled the midnight air and the moon looked down like that very first bus arriving to get me all those years ago. I wrapped my arms right back around her. She didn’t seem to mind that I was sticky or strange or sometimes kept tearing up all over again even after we’d stop saying anything worth tearing up over. ------------------

It happened. I felt like I should have been more prepared, brought flowers or poetry or earned it through honored warfare. But it happened. I was wearing ripped jeans, a spotty t-shirt and my breath smelled like coffee. We were looking for Park’s lost earring along an overgrown hill she usually biked along.

I found it, one shiny red dewdrop in all that green. Park pointed at some clouds that looked like my last “abstract” tattoo. We lay back in the grass and let the sky pass overhead. She giggled and touched my wrist, side by side. I let her.

“Summer’s almost over.” I mumbled it first.

“Yeah?”

“You find your next step then, college girl?” I tried to keep my tone light. She turned to be on her side.

“Maybe.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.”

“That does not sound like a college-girl plan.”

“Maybe I’ve got other plans. Maybe I’ve got other priorities, huh?”

“Ridiculous.” A playfully push her shoulder. “A lousy seaside town really isn’t priority material. There’s only one bookshop you know.”

“Two thank you very much. And that’s not my priority either.” Her voice wavered.

“Are you going to share with the class?”

“Is the class ready?” She whispered and I turned toward her as well now, taking in her perfect round face and question-mark mouth.

“I have been.” I matched her whisper. I tremor from my center outward and hopes she can’t tell.

“Do you know what they say about moths?”

“What?” I gave a breathy laugh. It wasn’t what I was expecting. “I’ve heard of them.”

“They tell your fortune.” She was grinning in that way that put out a stool and reached up. “I used to cry a lot growing up, because some kids said that moths are just evil butterflies. I was sensitive and ran all the way home. I threw myself at my mom’s feet and threw a fit about how moths were just evil butterflies. They were just ugly, wicked versions of a good thing.”

“Evil? Well, I suppose you are rather sinister when you haven’t eaten.”

“Shut up. I’m telling you something.” She put a hand on my shoulder. I inhaled deeply and turned over in place to face her. Only the shallow breeze kept us apart.

“I’m all ears . . . though maybe not as many as you.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“What can I say? The sun is adorable. I take after him.”

A finger ghosted over my cheek, tracing the arc of my cheekbone. “Well, you’re not so bad behind those headlights too. Some of us have good day vision you know. And good taste.”

I wished those words didn’t make my chest do funny things. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to hear what my mom said or not?”

“That you shouldn’t worry about evil butterflies?” I wiggled closer. “Because you’ll be really hot and funny and smart one day. So who cares if you’re evil?”

“Yeah, those were her exact words.”

“So?”

“So,” a firm hand took my chin. “Look at me.” I looked at her. I was glad she couldn’t see the flush in my cheeks in any way. “Moths show good fortunes she said.”

“Right. Lots and lots of good fortune.” I breathed, dumbly, of course. She was close and sweet and there was hair in her face. The fronds of her antennae tickle right past my ear.

“They can help you find good fortune. They’re good omens. You know why?” Park’s lips were barely moving as she spoke, hypnotic and unhurried.

“Why?”

“Because they follow the light.”

It happened all at once. Like every cheesy love poem or bad lyrics I wrote in my journals at night. It was every cracked-spine of a book using words like “rosebud lips” and every overdone song about people who find their way to each other.

I kissed her, leaning in with no life vest on or readied crash-landing position. She kissed me and my chest filled with her, breathless, drowning, soft as dreams and stranger than hope. I cradled her and she dragged me closer and closer until it was nothing but floods and brimming.

I’d been nothing before I think, I’d been an island that waits, a bus that leaves, a shadow that hides. And then I had been hers. ----------------- I was strolling home from work along the main road. The thin strip of sidewalk was streaked with bleached sunlight and the salt air was thick enough to burn throats. It was the long way home, but I was in the habit of going back to this corner.

The bus pulled up with little ceremony. It was an interstate one that crisscrossed over empty bellies of land. I stopped in place to watch, just in case, as I had many times before.

A silver head bobbed down the steps and planted herself on the concrete, unbelieving. She took an enormous noisy sniff of the air. “Not so bad!” She bellowed.

“Are you?” That wasn’t meant to be my first word. She was more stooped now and wearing shiny things on her wrist that clanked. She’d lost another tooth. “Mags.”

“Eh!” She yelled and waved frantically as if I hadn’t shot up another inch since I last saw her and started wearing clothes without holes in them. Her eyes sparkled as she tottered over. “So how’d you do, kid?”

“See for yourself.” I smiled. It was nice when the tides came back in. Mags gave me a thorough appraising. “Like this I guess.” I held up my hand. I wiggled my ring finger at her, heavy with a silver band and glittering opal.

“That’s my girl! Always knew you’d find your feet.” She cackled. “Am I too late to give you away, kid?”

I shook my head. She waddled over to me so I could take her hand. I took her home to show her my art and new tattoos, I showed her our terrible one-eyed kitten, Basket (Wicker’s son), and the little house we styled ourselves. I showed her our shoe closet and our queen bed, our messy kitchen and busted screen door. I showed her the moth tattoo over my heart, and Park showed her the matching lighthouse one over hers.

I tried to thank her, of course, I tried to say I owed her more than she knew for picking up an angry, dirty kid and seeing something in her. I owed her everything. But she just patted my hand and said that it’s not about our debts in life, kid. It’s about the becoming.

-----------

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adonis-koo · 4 years

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Moon Child • knj

↳ Summary: You had never dreamed of a day where you weren’t an Omega, beneath the boots of all your brothers and sisters. In an untimely manner your life is quickly turned upside down at the unexpected Blood Moon Alpha being your mate. With a new home you are summoned to the Kingdom of Vampires all while struggling to get to know your new mate.

↳ Genre: werewolf!AU, a pinch of angst, fluff, smut, alpha!namjoon and omega reader dynamic, soulmate au,

↳ Word Count: 16k

↳ Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

↳ Tags: whew okay um, brief thigh riding, dom!namjoon, alpha is used as a title, rough sex, vaginal fingering, doggy style (what else were y’all expecting?), heat sex, mating, a lil degradation (he calls her a bitch a lot), namjoon likes to call her little :(, size kink, a lil possession, breeding kink, begging, multiple orgasms, namjoon’s cum makes MC go feral??,

Last Installment

Note: aaaah this has taken me over a year to write lmfaooo but it’s so worth it! I can never make a short fic for my husband so I hope you all enjoy!

Run. Feet aching, heart rate spiked and head pounding and yet all you could do was keep running as if your life depended on it. In fact, it did depend on it. Your whole life, your freedom- or what little you had left of it, it all depended on how fast your legs could take you. The cool seeping air that was first sight of winter made your cheeks feel chapped and throbbing, your body near numb with a chill and yet all you could do was shove the branches away from your face away.

You made it obvious, you knew it too, there was no way they couldn’t hear the way your feet crunched over the fallen dead leaves and twigs, the little cuts of your skin was the biggest no-no above all else when escaping a pack- your pack to be exact. You see wolves thrived on scent, it’s how they hunt and track, Werewolves, are no different.

You didn’t know where you were going but you were going to get there somehow. You could hear them in the distance, they were close. Too close. But the rattling up ahead had you spooked as well. You could smell a human and.... something else. A vampire maybe? No, it was strange. Your mind was frantic and you couldn’t go back from where you came.

Shoving through the branches you nearly yelped as you smashed into the doe eyed girl who looked just as scared as you, you could hardly register the throbbing pain of falling down before scrambling away, a whine escaping you as you heard howling in the distance, “Please…” your words weak as you glanced up to the male.

Silver hair and magenta eyes caused him to stick out like a sore thumb in the flora of green, he was immediately at the girls side helping her up as his nose wrinkled, eyes flicking to yours before the girls as he spoke, “Sorry darling but I don’t deal in wolf affairs.”

The girl however couldn’t help but let her lips part, glancing between you and the male before she tugged in his shirt, “Jimin…” She murmured softly, your head frantically shot up at the sound of stampeding paws pounding against the soft earth, they were closing in, “She looks like she needs help...”

Your lips quivered and now that you were on the ground you weren’t sure you could get up any further, your legs ached and your mouth dry and parched, the male gave you a sympathetic look before glancing at the women as he frowned, “Sorry love but wolves have their own court system, nothing we can do about it. Sorry.” He only spared you a brief word before grabbing the girl by her arms and just as you blinked they had dissolved into nothing but black dust and a leftover trail of something foul as you let out a loud whine.

“There she is! I found her!” You scrambled backwards at the sight of your packs head Beta, eyes viscous as he snarled at you. Whining you lowered your gaze as you curled up against yourself. You had one chance and you ruined it. Now what would become of you? It was like a flash, all of your pack hunters surrounding you as they gritted their teeth and snarled, tears blurring in your eyes as you curled into yourself.

You had one chance and just like always, you ruined it.

“Look at the pathetic bitch,” You could the two Beta girls snicker, fingers pointed in your direction as you lowered your gaze, feeling your lips begin with quiver slightly as they began laughing once more, “Her head must be empty if she thought she could outrun us. Omega, fetch us our drinks please.” She shouted, as if just to mock you further.

Tonight was a celebration, and it wasn’t a celebration without the pack’s laughing stock. You, of course. Trying to run away was foolish, it wasn’t like an omega could survive on their own, but you were willing to risk it. Even if it meant just a taste of freedom before you died. Yet just like everything else, you failed miserably.

The torn leather collar was just an added humiliation, a show of power and a show of just how low you were in the pack. You weren’t usually one for self pity, but you couldn’t deny the envy in your veins when you saw other omega’s in the pack.

Omega’s were the lowest of low, they were considered dirt, but even they didn’t have it as bad as you, they continued their daily duties of watching the younger children, washing the pack’s clothes and any other domestic duties. You had all of these responsibilities as well the only difference was that they weren’t the Alpha’s favorite punching bag.

Walking up ahead you held your tray, approaching the two Beta’s who were currently laughing at you before you gasped, feeling a jerking sensation of your body suddenly toppling over due to the Beta’s foot conveniently sticking out just as you walked up to them.

The wooden cups toppled down spilling all over your dress before thudding to the ground making the two girls howl out laughing, “Lost your footing bitch? Awh the poor little omega is going to cry!” Your fists curled in absolute fury as your eyes blurred making them laugh further as you glared at the ground. A wad of spit hitting your cheek as the Beta girl spat at you, “Serves you right you filthy traitor. Abandoning your pack. How shameful!”

They both cackled as they walked away, tears of anger dripping down your cheeks as your hands shook with rage as you harshly wiped the spit off your face. This was life, tormented by people all due to your rank.

You couldn’t help it, you were born an omega. It wasn’t your fault you were born weaker than everyone else, that you couldn’t fight, that your sense of smell wasn’t as good or your sight, it wasn’t your fault you were worthless. Why did everyone's entertainment have to come at your expense?

Sniffling slightly you rubbed the tears from your eyes as you sighed, attempting to not let the frustration get to you. It wasn’t like you could change your birth right regardless. But perhaps in time, people would simply forgot of your existence. Your dress would be stained now and the cups wouldn’t pick itself up after all, life had to go on whether you were the ass of every joke or not.

The last thing you needed was a Beta walking by and scowling at how incompetent you were, “Miss Y/n..! Do you need help!” You glanced up at the bright pair of doe eyes, little Hueningkai stared down at you with that shy smile of his.

You couldn’t help the tiny smile that pulled on your lips as you shook your head, “Don’t worry Kai, I’m fine…” You lowered your gaze a little as you sighed, standing up as you brushed off the specks of dirt from your skirt, your gaze softening a little as you glanced down at the little five year old, “You should get back to your mother. She wouldn’t want you talking to me.”

Hueningkai frowned, those big eyes of his dimming a little before he stomped his foot, “My mom can’t make me! You’re nice Y/n why is everybody so mean to you…!” He frowned eyes looking somewhat glossed at the blatant mistreatment of you, your heart softened a little as you kneeled down, offering the boy a small smile.

He was too young, too innocent to understand how packs- how your pack worked. Some days you couldn’t help but wonder if the little boy’s heart would always stay this soft, or if in time, he’d become cruel like everyone else.

“This is how the pack works Kai, don’t worry about me. I can handle myself. Now run along, the Blood Moon pack will be here soon and I’m sure your mom will want you close.” He parted his lips to object before sighing, bouncing a little in his spot before he nodded. You sighed as you watched him scurry away where the crackle of the large bonfire was in the distance and the moon was high in the sky tonight.

Patrols would be heavy tonight and despite this being a celebration you weren’t a fool to the tension in the air. Blood Moon was one of the strongest packs in the realm, not only this but they recently made an ally with the vampiric Jeon Dynasty of Arestella which was a feat in itself. This was a big step for werewolves. You ran in packs and it was rare that society accepted your kind in their towns and villages for long.

But now having Blood Moon formally recognized, not just by civilization but by the Vampires, the most respected species? It was a massive honor and everyone wanted to jump to be allies with Blood Moon in hopes of also getting an ally with the Jeon Dynasty. Including your pack.

Blood Moon was coming here to evaluate if your pack would be worthy of becoming allies. If it were up to you, you’d tell their Alpha to not waste his time and find a more compassionate pack then your own. If you were going to rot alone in this pack forever then you might as well make everyone just as miserable.

Your pack was strong, but not enough to take on one like Blood Moon, perhaps that’s why the guard rotation would be high tonight, in hopes of making your pack look stronger then it was in reality. Who knows, if this went bad maybe they’d just kill you all. Maybe they’d kill you and put you out of your misery.

The flames of the bonfire exploded as you watched the crowd pile around in the distance, cheers were loud and drums banged as you picked up the cups, gently holding one in each hand as you sighed, the wood had been brittle and cracks had become apparent as they bounced against a large tree root. Standing up you intended to throw away them in the waste bin not too far away from you but you stopped in your tracks at the strong smell. No, scent.

It was like firewood and cedar mixed together, maybe even a little pine if you sniffed hard enough. Your nose wouldn’t stop twitching at such a dreamy scent, you could almost smell the twinge of ash from here. How weird. You rubbed your nose as you dumped the cups into the bin.

No matter how hard you tried though the smell wouldn’t go away, not that you minded of course. It smelt amazing, you just couldn’t help but wonder what- or who- was causing it. Maybe...No...who were you kidding? It was said mate’s had heightened smells, to find one another, but, you surely didn’t have a mate. And even if you did...You doubt they’d ever want you. The crowd seemed to morph into an even larger state as unfamiliar wolves joined in. Blood Moon must have arrived.

“What are you doing standing around bitch? The Alpha wants you.” You sighed as you lowered your gaze, the head Beta snarled at you, grabbing your arm roughly as he yanked you along making a small whimper escape your mouth. You were dragged through the crowd as they made a path for you both as you came up to the large bonfire, everyone standing at a distance due to its immense heat that licked at the air nearby.

You strangled another whine as you were thrown at the boots of your pack’s Alpha, shakily you sat up on your knees wrapping your arms around yourself as you refused to look up at him. You could hear him chuckle as he kneeled down grabbing your chin harshly, “This is our pack's little bitch. I’m sure she’ll keep your beta’s nice and happy, won’t you?” He growled menacingly as you lowered your gaze once more, lips quivering as you sucked in a harsh breath.

That scent from earlier suddenly suddenly invaded your sense once more, this time even more heady than before. It was all you could smell and even tenfold. Your thighs suddenly felt weak and arousal pooled uncomfortably between your legs.

“That won’t be necessary.” A strong deep voice cut in, making all the cheers from your pack stop as a new pair of thick boots stood in front of you. A squeak leaving your lips as you were suddenly pulled to stand up, large hands wrapped around your arms and you were glancing up at the tall daunting figure of the Alpha of Blood Moon.

A hand quickly cupped your chin as your lips began to tremble, you heard him scoff, a twitch of irritation on his face as he lifted your chin higher as if inspecting the bruises you dawned.

You were confused and scared and yet oddly aroused, being face to face with the werewolves strongest Alpha and he seemed angry. Silently furious even, what had you done to even warrant this? Breath? Your lips trembled in fear as thoughts invaded your mind frantically, you were dead, you were really dead now.

You hadn’t even said a word- “If this is how you’ve been treating my mate, then we have no business to attend with you.” Your lips parted, openly gaping at the said alpha who just claimed….you...you were his mate…

Oh...oh my god...you were his mate! You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs at how much of a complete idiot you had been for ignoring his scent earlier yet you were frozen in place staring up at the tall figure of Blood Moon’s Alpha, Kim Namjoon.

He was even more handsome in person then what you had heard, you had an amazing angle of his razor sharp jawline and truthfully you couldn’t help but feel somewhat intimidated and aroused all at the same time. His k-nines looked just as sharp if not even more so and his tongue was tucked into his cheek, showing a dimple yet his expressions couldn’t convey anything but annoyance.

Your pack's Alpha’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head before he sneered, a gritty smile on his lips as he forced a laugh, “This? Is your mate? Namjoon surely you’re joking. We Alpha’s don’t associate with weaklings like them, they only slow our packs down.” You couldn’t help but lower your head in shame...He was right...you didn’t deserve to have someone like Kim Namjoon, Alpha of the great Blood Moon pack be your mate. You were nothing in compared to the leaps and bounds he had made in the werewolves history.

“Omega’s are what we need to keep our humanity, they’re the softness we need in our pack to remind us that we’re still human. Omega’s are the caretakers of the sick and the hurt, they’re the ones that remind us peace is just as much of an option as war. I couldn’t be more proud to have an Omega as my mate.” Your gaze shot up to the wolfish appearance of Namjoon, his hair had been neatly styled but there were still a few stray hairs that gave him that wolfish look.

You couldn’t help but feel somewhat timid under the hellfire gaze of your pack’s Alpha, but oddly enough, having Namjoon stand beside you made you feel oddly...safe...Warm even, as if it was radiating off his body and you felt the urge to nestle against his side. As if it were meant to be.

Your wariness however stopped you from attempting to do so. You may know who Namjoon is, but you don’t know him personally. Is this just a set up? To get you to act out before you’re cruelly punished. You haven’t said a peep yet and you certainly don’t intend too. Especially with both pack’s present and not a single soul speaking, everyone's eyes wide at the situation that has unraveled so quickly.

“I’m surprised the Jeon’s choose your pack,” He sneered, eyes darkening as he growled, “Any Omega sympathizers are usually outcasts. What makes you think you can take my Omega?” He punctuated the word carefully making your heart squeeze a little.

“What makes you think I can’t take her?” Namjoon suddenly snarled, his voice guttural making you jump, his eyes flashing a dangerous red as he bared his k-nines, “My pack is the strongest for a reason and I’ll make a demonstration of that just as easily. But because my mate is present I’ll make you a deal. And you sure as hell better take it. You let me take my mate, and I’ll leave this pack without a slaughter. No deals are being made and you won’t be allied, but you’ll be alive so there’s that.” Namjoon gave an icy condescending smile making your pack’s Alpha twitch in irritation.

It was silent for a moment before he bared his teeth, your pack’s Alpha hated being made a fool and right now he looked like a whole circus as he snapped, “Go! Take the bitch, we don’t need her anyways.” Namjoon’s eyes cut at his words but he said no more. Waving a hand you squeaked at the sudden appearance of another wolf, Namjoon glancing at him briefly before down at you, “Take her to the camp set up.”

You hadn’t even said a word and just like that, your life had been completely changed. Yet ironically enough, walking with the wolf as everyone's eyes glared down at you, you wouldn’t miss this hell hole for a second.

You were wringing your hands as you paced in the lavished tent, a rug was even thrown down and there was a desk filled with plenty of papers, a foldable cot was set down at the end of the tent. You had never been somewhere so...luxurious before. You were subjected to sleeping on the ground most days and you were considerably lucky if it was closed to the bonfire. But not only was this tent set up close to the fire, there was a bed.

You had never slept in a bed before. Well, a cot. But it was the same thing to you. You just couldn’t stop stressing though. Were you really mated to Kim Namjoon? Was he the one you’d spend the rest of your days with? You felt unsure, you needed to get to know him. To know if this was it.

Werewolves had derived the term Mate, it was the closest you'll ever find to a soulmate. The Moon Goddess, had a mate planned for every wolf, someone who was your perfect match. The one you were meant to spend your life with. You personally, just always assumed you’d die both young and alone. It was hard believing Namjoon….Kim Namjoon, was your mate.

You perked up at the sound of footsteps coming from a few feet away from the tent, they were surprisingly light compared to what you expected. Turning around you were met with the tent flap opening, your lips immediately quivering as your gaze timidly dropped at the sight of Namjoon entering.

You could hear him chuckle softly making you fidget. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do....Okay it was a dumb question, you knew what you were supposed to do. Mates would consummate and mark one another when they meet, mating was a universal thing to all creatures alike. But… you didn’t want to do that with someone you just met…

No matter how much your instincts were going crazy right now with the need to bend over his bed and present yourself in need.

“You look scared,” Namjoon murmured softly, you jumped at his hand cupping your cheek, you hadn’t realized he was right in front of you until now, “Mmm, I won’t hurt you.” His growl was low, almost instinctive at the way his nose nudged against your hair, “I’ve been waiting to find my mate for a very long time. What’s your name?”

His hands tenderly wrapped around your arms, his nose continuously nudging your hair as if drowning himself in your scent. You weren’t sure if his gesture was meant to be comforting, a part of you wanting to lean into his touch but the other had been bruised your whole life from touch. How were you supposed to learn to be okay with it again?

Your body naturally tensed in his grip as you murmured, “Y/n…” You didn’t want to be difficult, you didn’t want your mate to think you were stubborn and unattractive, but...You also didn’t want to give in right away...you weren’t sure you were ready too.

Namjoon nipped against your ear making you jump, a playful smirk on his lips as he replied, “I’ll just assume you already know my name.” He decided to attempt a bolder move, nipping at your neck, this time making you whine. Except it wasn’t the good kind, you attempted to push yourself away as your gaze lowered back down.

Namjoon immediately paused, frowning as he pulled away somewhat to look at you. Your considerably smaller figure timidly glancing at the ground, as if expecting some sort of reprimanding. It was from this moment Namjoon realized this was going to take a bit more time then he had hoped. His hormones and your scent were driving him utterly insane with the need to mount you.

But your comfort was and would always be more important to him, he wanted you to trust him, to be unafraid of giving yourself to him. While Namjoon wished being mates would magically make all this happen, he knew it wouldn’t, “Why don’t you get undressed and lay down. I’m sure you haven’t gotten a good night's rest in awhile.”

Yet he couldn’t resist the urge to stroke a tender hand through your hair, pushing it back away from your eyes so he could properly see your face. Timidly you glanced up at him, nibbling against your lip as they parted before closing for a brief moment before you forced yourself to speak, “B-but...what….what about…” Your face felt hot as you tried to finish your sentence.

“That can wait,” Namjoon replied promptly, offering you a gentle smile, “You’re here now, there shouldn’t be a rush. And you don’t look comfortable. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Your lips trembled slightly, you weren’t sure what it was. Namjoon’s kind smile, those pretty dimples that showed up on his cheeks as he glanced down at you, or if it was his tender touch against your hair, as if he was calming a scared child. You didn’t know what it was but your eyes were watering before you let out a sniffle.

“Hey, shhh! Don’t cry.” Namjoon was immediately cupping your cheeks, a frown on his face at the sight of your tears but before he could ask why you were crying you launched into his arms, wrapping your arms tightly around him as you buried into his warm chest, into the divine scent that rolled off him in waves.

“T-thank you. Thank you so much.” You couldn’t stop thanking him in muffled sniffles, unsure of what you have ever done to deserve such an incredibly compassionate mate. You had never met an Alpha like Namjoon before. Most were cold and intimidating, but he was different. There was a reason he was the strongest.

Rather than lock away his emotions, he weaponized them.

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you soothingly as he pressed a tender kiss against the top of your head, “Shhh, you’re never going back there again. You’re home my little omega.” You had the biggest, most dumb looking smile on your face as you nuzzled into his chest, your cheeks burning at his nickname he had easily provided you. But for the first time in your life, it didn’t sound demeaning, it sounded endearing.

You couldn’t get enough of Namjoon’s touch, it wasn’t even sexual. No matter how much your body thought it’d be better if it was. Just his touch was healing, it made you want more and more of it. You kept nudging him every time he’d take his hand off of you, wanting to be continuously petted.

You might not have consummated with your mate, but you did spend the night tenderly in one another’s embrace, Namjoon showering you in the touch you were starved of your whole life. You never thought you were interested in physical touch until now, you wanted all of it, you wanted his hands petting your side, stroking your hair, his lips peppering your face in kisses.

You felt like a pup again when you fell asleep against his chest. Your life had changed drastically in a single night and yet you didn’t feel overwhelmed in the slightest. This was meant to be, you were sure of it.

“Looks like a storm is brewing.” You jumped at the soft sound of Namjoon’s voice, calm and steady behind you as you turned around from your spot where you had been currently watching the clouds brew and darken. You have been with Blood Moon for a little more then two weeks now. Everything was so...different.

Everyone was kind, they treated you with the utmost respect which you found yourself dumbfound at. You understood to a degree, being mates with the Alpha meant you’d….you’d be the packs Luna. There was no one to guide you on how to be a Luna and perhaps that was what had been secretly daunting you. This wouldn’t be an easy task, what if everyone judged you for making a wrong move?

You wouldn’t become Luna of course, until you were mated to Namjoon, which you hadn’t partook in yet. But it was still lingering in the back of your head. Things between you both had been, formal at best. There was still much physical affection at night...and the occasional rutting- from the both of you before you both stopped your instinctual nature.

“I’ve always loved the rain,” You offered a meek smile, you still had a hard time finding a way to converse with Namjoon in an informal way, he often told you at night he preferred when you spoke freely but...It just all seemed so foreign to you.

Turning back around you let the cool wind blow against your face, lifting your chin a little as you sniffed the fresh air, you could smell the crisp evergreen and the combination of rain on the horizon, “But thunderstorms always scared me as a pup. I have exceptionally good hearing so I didn’t like loud noises back then.”

Much like any other Omega you were considerably weak, but all omega’s had at least one strong sense, and yours just so happened to be hearing. But you often thought it came at a disadvantage, all you ever heard was the laughter of your brothers and sisters who looked down their noses at you.

At least omega’s with speed had a better chance at running and those with good sight could see predators a mile away. Yet all you could do was cover your ears in hopes to drown out the noise of the world.

“And what about now?” Namjoon asked, offering you an endearing smile as he sat down on the fallen tree that you stood behind, taking a moment to admire his beautiful mate. Turning to face him you gave a somewhat sheepish smile, lowering your gaze a little.

It was hard some days to even look Namjoon in the eyes, he still carried the pheromones of an Alpha and it constantly reminded you that you were below him. That if you even so much as annoyed him he could easily snap your neck and there was nothing you could do about it. You felt guilty sometimes, for thinking this way. But it wasn’t as if you could help it, you had spent your whole life getting thrown around by your old pack’s alpha.

“It doesn’t scare me as much anymore as it just hurts at times.The only thing that isn’t completely useless about me is my hearing,” You offered a weak smile as you rubbed the back of your neck, looking back out over the storm ahead, the clouds becoming darker by the second before you watched a crack of lightning strike in the distance, “It’s much more sensitive to noise then most wolves.”

It was true, that was your one exceptionally good ability, you could nearly hear things a mile away, sometimes you picked up on interesting conversations. You had even known Blood Moon was planning to visit your pack long before anyone else found out in the regular ranks. It wasn’t a totally useless ability. But still, good hearing often came with disadvantages like loud noises that always had you whimpering and covering your ears.

“You aren’t useless.” You jumped at the way Namjoon suddenly grabbed your shoulders, turning you around to face him, his expression almost appeared like a scowl, looking somewhat angry as he continued, “You’ve been saying degrading things about yourself ever since you got here. You are my mate,” He let out a soft growl as you lowered your gaze, feeling like a pup being scowled at the moment, “Don’t mistake your softness for weakness. You aren’t useless. I won’t stand for you saying these things about yourself.”

A loud crackle of thunder rumbled making you jolt a little, a low whine emanating from you as you rubbed your ears, “That’s easier said than done. You haven’t lived the life I have.” You tugged away from him a little as you kept your gaze lowered, pretending to not notice the look of mild hurt on his face at your rejection of his comfort, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

There were moments like this from time to time, moments of disconnect between you both. You couldn’t help but wonder somedays if the Moon Goddess made a mistake, if you were really meant to be with Namjoon. Especially when days like this happened.

“Then help me understand,” You paused as Namjoon wrapped his arms around you from behind, letting his chin rest on your shoulder as he nudged your neck with his nose, “I only want the best for you Y/n.” But did he? You felt unsure of how to go forward with your budding relationship with Namjoon. Could you really open up to him?

“I don’t know how,” You mumbled, feeling somewhat ashamed despite not knowing why. Maybe a part of you wished you did, you wanted to be with Namjoon, you really did. But the only thing stopping you was yourself. Glancing out over the dark clouds you sighed, feeling a droplet of rain splat against your cheek as you rubbed it away, “We should get back to camp to let the others know the storm is beginning. It’s going to be a long night.”

Namjoon looked as if he had more to say but only nodded at your words, stopping for a moment before holding out a hand to you. Glancing down at it you nibbled against your lip before hesitantly letting your fingers lace in his.

He offered you a small dimpled smile, free hand lovingly stroking through your hair before leading you back to where the pack was camped out.

You and a few of the scouts of the pack had searched for somewhere dry to stay before the storm fully hit, thunder kept rumbling from far away and the lightning was getting closer with each strike.

Out of a pure stroke of luck you had found a large cave mass that went deep into the Northern Mountains. The rain had already started pouring down as everyone was being gathered into the mountain, Namjoon was soaking wet as he waved in the crowd of people, his eyes meeting your soaking figure as he paused, “You should go to the fire and get warm. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold pup.”

He smiled down at your cute figure that glanced up at him, you rubbed your cheek somewhat shyly as you shook your head, you couldn’t afford to lay by a fire when so many others were being drenched in the ice cold rain, “I’m okay. We need to make sure everyone is safe first. I’m going out to check to make sure everyone is together.” Namjoon nodded in agreement, a smile still adorning his face as you pushed through the crowd as you made your way outside.

A loud clap of thunder booming down making you jump with a whine as you covered your ears as you pressed forward through the harsh rain that dropped down like ice against your skin. It was freezing outside! Rubbing your arms you glanced around at the line of people as everyone gathered inside.

You could hear something abnormal but it was difficult to make out what it was between the rain pounding on the ground and the thunder that rumbled loudly, whining you covered your ears, feeling a headache come on as you pushed forward. Your senses were going wild, you could hear something. You knew you could. You just couldn’t figure out what.

A loud clap of thunder roared causing you gasp, covering your ears as pain throbbed in your head, closing your eyes. You tried to tune out the noise but it only became heightened, “Help! Somebody please!”

Your eyes snapped open as rain poured down, trying to relocate the sound before quickly following along the line of the crowd that was becoming shorter and shorter by the moment until you reached a little ways past the end, “Help! Please! Help!” You found an older wolf, a mother by the looks of it drenched in rain, looking frantic as you ran up to her, she grabbed your hands as she cried, “My pups! Please! She fell in the river nearby while we were waiting! My boy can’t keep her much longer!”

You felt your heart burst- you should go get someone you can help! But…! There wasn’t enough time! “Lead the way!” You replied almost immediately. You’d just have to try your best for the sake of the young pup and the mother. She fumbled as she brought you down the steep hill, almost falling but catching yourself as your eyes caught the dimmed vision of a young boy crying out, “Mom! Mom! I can’t hold on any longer!”

Not having the strength to keep up his little sister just as you were in reach of the crying girl his hand slipped, the heavy stream of water coursing causing her to immediately be washed away by the streams current. You could hear both the boy and mother scream before you did the stupidest thing in your life.

Diving into the water coughed as your vision blurred with water and ran mixed, the water was ice cold and caused your teeth to immediately clack as you were rushed along, the little girl calling out with cries as her head bobbed up and down in the water.

“Hold on!” You called out coughing up water as you grabbed onto the log that was lodged in the river that the little girl managed to grab. Grabbing onto it you spat the river water that entered your mouth once more before managing to get closer to the little girl, her arms around your neck and you could hear her pitiful sobs as you held her.

Your body was trembling and the whiplash of rain and the strong current was making your muscles weak as you tried to keep steady against the log, water continuously lashed against your face and rain in your eyes as you slowly but steadily used the log to guide you back to the land. Your muscles were ready to give out, not used to being used so much as you crawled onto the cold muddy ground.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” The mother was the first to run over immediately crying out over the loud rain, grabbing her sobbing daughter as she hugged her close, “We own you so much Luna! Thank you! Oh..! Luna?” You couldn’t muster a word, your body trembling and your vision spotting before everything went dark.

…

Whining a little your head felt fuzzy and your muscles ached with every little movement. It took a moment before you forced your eyes open meeting the dark ceiling above, a few stalagmites hanging above you as brief confusion washed over your figure. Your body trembled a little as you heard a tongue clack, “You should be closer to the fire.”

You groaned a little as you rubbed your head, your vision a little bleared as you rubbed your eyes before glancing up to the familiar voice of Namjoon who had just finished placing a fresh piece of firewood onto the small little fire that wasn’t too far from you, “C’mere my little omega.” He scooped you up effortlessly making you whine.

You didn’t have any energy to objection though as Namjoon sat down, his back against the cave wall and now closer to the fire where your body was trembling as much, “You’re soaked to the bone,” He tutted, letting a hand press against your forehead before sighing, “You should’ve got someone to help you Y/n. You could’ve been killed diving into that water on your own.”

You trembled once more, shifting a little in Namjoon’s grip before nudging your nose against his neck, the overwhelming scent of cedar and firewood relaxing your senses as you buried against your mate, “If I had gone to go get help that girl would’ve died.” You mumbled in weak objection against his neck, closing your eyes tiredly as you felt Namjoon’s hand begin to tenderly stroke through your hair, “Besides, I’m alive still, aren’t I?”

You smiled weakly as you glanced up at Namjoon, he didn’t return the sentiment though, his eyes were a deep mahogany brown, piercing your gaze with his own and the fire reflecting and exaggerated his high cheekbones that much more.

“That doesn’t mean you will be in the future,” He growled, this time in a more stern voice causing your lips to quiver as they dropped, “Take somebody with you next time. I…” He sighed, his expression relaxing once more as he buried into your hair, “I couldn’t live with myself if you died and I just- I just let you. You’re my mate, I’m supposed to take care of you.”

You frowned at his words, feeling somewhat conflicted. You had dreamt your whole life of being taken care of, of wanting someone to care, to comfort and coddle your every step. But...You didn’t have that sentiment growing up, and now actually having it…”But I’m okay. Namjoon,” You pulled away a little, your hair still damp and clinging to your face as you pushed it away, “I can take care of myself. I’ve had too my whole life.”

You lowered your gaze a little as you tugged on a strand of your hair, “I...I know...that I’ve been a bit distant. And that we should already be mated by now. And I know that I haven’t been the easiest to get to know but, I just...I just need time, to get to know you, to become comfortable with the pack...I’ve been on my own for so long, it’s overwhelming in ways that it shouldn’t be.”

You felt insecure about how you felt, truthfully. You should be grateful, you should be happy that you’ve somehow, against all odds, found your mate. That you should let him mate with you and get a move on with your new life. But it was difficult, in ways you felt like it shouldn’t be but it was hard getting used to such friendly smiles, to having your mate tenderly take care of you. Being called Luna, was rather overwhelming.

“Y/n,” Namjoon sighed, his forehead resting on yours as his thumb rubbed against your cheek bone, “I’ve already told you we don’t have to be in a hurry. You can take as much time as you want to get used to the pack and we can take our time getting to know one another. I’ll be just as dedicated to you now as I will when we mate.” he nipped playfully at your neck making a smile tug on your lips, “But I will always be protective of you. That’s my instinctive nature.”

You sighed in understanding, no matter how it made you feel, Namjoon was right. Mates were always protective, Alpha mates in particular, some more so than others. Even if Namjoon didn’t display it as often as others it was still there.

You closed your eyes as you curled up against him, letting his fingers continue to untangle your hair in little strokes, a few pecks against your head here and there, “Have you been told why we’re here at the Northern Mountains?” You perked up a little with a yawn as you glanced up at Namjoon in confusion, a smile on his face as he brushed the hair away from your face, “We’re visiting Arestella, to see the Royal family. The Prince summoned us not long ago”

Your lips parted a little as you tilted your head, “The Jeon Dynasty?” They were considered one of the kindest Dynasties to rule over Arestella for centuries- that was of course if you ignored the current king who outlawed magick and had sentenced the Witch Hunt to begin. But that was nearly fifty years ago now. Otherwise they had a fairly peaceful rule, it wasn’t too big of a surprise to you that their Crowned Prince signed an ally treaty with Namjoon. But still, to actually be here with Namjoon and him saying you’d be going to the Kingdom of Vampires, it was all a bit surreal.

Namjoon’s smile widened as he nodded, “Yes, me and the Prince- Jungkook have some business to attend. Apparently there's been a massive stir in demonic energy. There've been a lot of rumored Demon sightings that’s caused fright among Arestella’s outer villages.”

You frowned as you pressed your lips together, hesitating for a moment as you rubbed the back of your neck, “Demons? Are they really real?” You felt somewhat hesitant to ask. You mind going back to when you last attempted to escape your pack. Those magenta eyes and silver hair, they were almost otherworldly...and the way they just...disappeared into thin air...

Namjoon offered you a weak smile as he shrugged, “I think so, I don’t know about the Prince’s involvement with demon’s but if he believes they’re real then I’d be willing to bet they are. He has ties in all sorts of different affairs. Demonic energy doesn’t always equate demons though, sometimes it’s just been plagued by Witches for a long time.”

You hummed in response. You could see where witches could build demonic energy- not that you necessarily believed all witches were bad. People liked to fear monger and point fingers and be done with it. But things were rarely that simple in life. You still felt bad for all the witches that died during the Witch Hunt, a dark period in time just in the passing of Magicks outlaw.

“I guess we’ll see when we arrive.” You mumbled as you let your head rest in the crook of Namjoon’s neck, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close.

“Soon enough my little omega.” There it was again, that giddy little smile on your face as you sighed in contentment. Life wasn’t all too bad, even in it’s less fine moments.

The journey to Arestella had been peaceful, the weather had become gradually colder with each passing day and soon frost would be covering the ground and nights would become freezing without fire. This however, wasn’t a big deal for wolves as you had been custom to this for some time. When the air was colder the pack would shift and the fur of your animal counterpart kept you warm.

The one thing you were still struggling with was all the respect everyone gave to you. You felt yourself fumbling at times due to how friendly and kind everyone was. At first, you wondered if it was just because you were mates with the Alpha. It wasn’t the first you had seen everyone give special treatment to a Luna.

Your eyes would warily watch over the other Omega’s in the pack who all appeared happy, anytime one was struggling a Beta was practically bouncing over to assist whenever needed. Things seemed so contrary to how you lived your life. Even now in such a spacious tent where the heat of the fire licked in the air where you settled against the small cot in contentment.

Nudging against the pillow as you sighed, Namjoon and Jackson the head Beta had been talking about taking an alternate route to Arestella over the past few days which had lead to him not joining you until later.

Hearing the soft crunch of leaves had your head perking and you could almost feel your inner wolf’s tail thwacking harshly as you curled up, the flap of the tent opening to see Namjoon’s- happy but obviously tired expression, “Happy to see me pup?” He teased lightly as you grabbed the stiff pillow to nudge against it to hide your smile.

You were shameless in watching him pull the billowing shirt over his head to reveal the taunt thick muscles of his back to your view, your legs pressing together as you pulled the fur blanket over your chin, “How was the meeting?” You asked as Namjoon rolled his neck before taking a seat in bed, his hand resting against your head as he softly stroked your hair.

“Good,” He hummed before laying down facing you, a soft smile tugging on his lips as he let his fingers curl around a strand, “We received a pigeon from the Sisterhood today.” You raised your brows a little in curiosity.

The Sisterhood? You had heard of them of course, anyone who hadn’t was obviously living under a rock, or a century old witch perhaps, Namjoon chuckled a little at your expression as his hand met with your cheek once more, “We work in accord with them much like many other packs. We share the land with them and it only makes sense.”

“Well yes,” You replied, it certainly wasn’t unheard of for the Sisterhood and wolves to work together, even your pack had assistance given to them by the Sisterhood from time to time, “But I didn’t realize you were that chummy with one another.” You snorted as you raised a brow.

Namjoon clacked his tongue, his thumb stroking along your cheekbone making you shuffle closer to his warm body, “You know the story of how wolves came to be, yes?”

“...Well...I’ve heard a few different variations.” You replied with a shrug, nearly every wolf knew a tale of how your species came to be but they widely varied. Your now curious as to what this had to do with the Sisterhood’s involvement.

Namjoon gave a knowing smile as he replied, “It’s been passed down between generations of my family that a very long time ago, when the Moon was still young she- for the first time heard a prayer. It was of a young boy who had been attacked by our counterpart, wolves,”

Namjoon tenderly pushed the strand of hair behind you as he spoke, “The young boy was crying and he bled beyond saving. As the life force left his body and he took his last breath beneath the full moon, pitied, the Moon Goddess took mercy on him and blessed him. Her powers only reigned so far, and so she turned him into a wolf. The Moon Goddess told the boy that once his wounds would heal he would be safe to return to human. But now he must bear the dual nature of both animal and human.”

“When the rumors began to fester, the men of the villages nearby wanted to hunt the monster,” Namjoon hummed his fingers tracing down to your jawline, “The boy’s lover however, discovered who he was and pleaded with the men of the village. When they would not listen, the girl was sent a blessing by the Moon Goddess. The Bow of Lux. It became clear to her that if they would not listen to her, she would make them listen,”

Namjoon gave a wry smile as he continued, “When the last man perished, the girl swore her life to the Moon Goddess and would continue to protect those who lived inside the forest and those who lived outside. The Moon Goddess, pleased, allowed her to form the Sisterhood and once she passed on, they say her soul turned to stardust and became Orion’s bow.”

You perked a little as you smiled, “Is that why the women in the Sisterhood are only allowed to be addressed by celestial names to outsiders?” You had never heard that part of the story! It sounded so…! So forlorn yet, meant to be. Divine even. Namjoon chuckled as he patted your head, “Perhaps, that’s one of many theories. Orion is the patron of the Sisterhood, the first to protect. They pray to her for strength before they go into battle. My point however,” Namjoon tutted a little, his eyes crinkling in adoration, “Is that no matter what tale is being told, the wolves and the Sisterhood go hand in hand. We protect and work with one another when needed.”

“Then what did the Sisterhood want?” You whined a little, impatient at Namjoon’s wordiness, he tapped your neck in gentle scold as you wiggled closer to him, his arm finally wrapping around you as he curved a brow.

Clacking his tongue he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your forehead, “Don’t be pushy pup,” You could hear the playful scold in his tone, “It was sent by one of the independent scouts; Vega. She asked that we keep our eyes out for a witch that lives in the North.”

You frowned as you asked, “A witch? What could she want with a witch?”

Namjoon shrugged, his fingers tracing against your hip as he replied, “I can’t say for sure. All I know is she wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I know requesting Arestella to find a witch would probably get her hanged.”

“Are Vampires really that fickle?” You raised your brows, unable to stop the snort, you had never seen a Vampire before but you had heard about them plenty and how proud they were. You didn’t understand why the reigning king banned Magick as it was, especially when it seemed as if their society relied on it previously.

Namjoon also scoffed out an amused laugh, “You’d be surprised. Nobody follows the rules more than the own royal court. The Mad King makes sure of it. Anyone caught using magick is either hanged or burned. Even the court is not excluded.” You shivered a little at the thought.

“And will you keep an eye out then?” You asked, you supposed since Blood Moon was nomadic like any other pack, Arestella couldn’t hold you accountable for the laws of their lands. But it made you worried.

Namjoon closed his eyes solemnly, “I will, I’d never turn my back on the Sisterhood. Furthermore, the Prince doesn’t know all of my affairs. If it doesn’t concern our relationship then he doesn’t need to know.” He finally pulled you against him as you squeaked a little, your nose immediately nudging against his neck as you coiled against him, “You’ve been awfully curious tonight pup.” He whispered in your ear.

A smile tugged on your lips as you inhaled his scent slowly, you could almost vividly smell the crackle of burnt wood against his skin, the kerosene he had split earlier while helping build a fire, a whine suddenly escaping your lips as you felt heat pooling between your legs. Your face throbbing as you embarrassingly pushed against his neck to hide yourself.

This had been happening a lot, putting off your consummation had taken a toll on your body, constantly making you become aroused when you became too close to your mate for too long. The need to be filled with him was a constant ache, as if sensing that Namjoon let out an instinctive growl, his thigh suddenly forcing its way between your legs as he whispered in your ear once more, “I can smell how wet you are little one.”

Your face throbbed even harder as your hips began rubbing into his thigh in search of friction you needed, desperately. Namjoon and you both had agreed taking things slow was for the best….But that certainly hadn’t stopped him or you from testing the waters a little…

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you whined against, letting your hips drag against his warm thick thigh as your clit pressed gently against his skin, the pleasure nearly sent you pathetically howling against his skin, “This isn’t fair!” You whimpered, your thighs shaking and your panties becoming stickier within seconds.

Namjoon’s laugh was deeper this time, as if amused at how frantic his little omega was, “Then take what you deserve my little pup.” He nipped against your ear as you jumped, his hands grabbing your waist as he rolled unto his back, forcing your to straddle him as your lips quivered into a pout.

Your clit was throbbing though and seeing how inviting his thighs looked was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up, shifting to place yourself against one as you whined a little, unable to stare directly at him as your hips wiggled in need against his thigh. Pleasure swelled in your body and a muffled whine escaped you before you jumped at the sound of leaves crunching.

Namjoon instinctively sat up as you curled against him, not a second later hearing the sound of footsteps as a voice called out, “Namjoon, I need just one more thing.” Jackson called out as you crumpled against your mate.

You felt embarrassed at letting your hormones get the best of you. Namjoon as if sensing this gently stroked a hand through your hair before pressing a kiss against your head, “Don’t look so disappointed, we can always try again later.”

Your lips quivered into a scowl as you pouted, flopping against the bed as Namjoon chuckled before calling out, “I’ll be out in a moment.” It was just as well Jackson had interrupted when he had. Who would’ve known what that would spiral into if you had been left alone.

“You look wide eyed.” Namjoon chuckled as he watched you circle around yourself, lips gaping as you glanced around in curiosity. There were so many sights and sounds it was hard to take it all in at once, “C’mere my pup, I don’t want you getting lost.” He grabbed your hand attentively as he pulled you along.

The journey to Arestella had taken another day and a half but you did eventually arrive and you were in near awe at the sight. You had never been in a Kingdom before, much less the grand jewel of the realm. You could smell the hefty scent of fresh baked loathes from the few humans that dared to reside in the realm of Vampires.

Today was a beautiful day, apparently Arestella wasn’t known to be the sunniest Kingdom but today seemed to be different, the sky was a brilliant azure blue with fluffy billowing clouds to compliment it’s sky and the breeze was cool against the day’s warm air, “I’ve never been somewhere so...crowded.” You managed to say as you squeezed past a group of people, staying particularly close to Namjoon as you glanced around wide eyed.

“There’s much excitement to see,” Namjoon chuckled, “If you think this is incredible, wait until we see the castle. That’s where we’ll be staying the next few days. Jackson will keep everyone settled in the outskirts of town meanwhile.”

You couldn’t deny you were excited, you could see the gothic castle even from here despite it being so far away. The day was busy and everyone was bustling but if there was one thing you noticed...It was a lack of color...or thereof…What color there was seemed very organized, as if these people were all in groups. And then occasionally you’d spot a bright pop of red of some of the people you passed, “Why is everyone dressed so...dark…” You frowned as you kept close to your mate.

“They have a very strict system here in Arestella, they use colors to keep classes separated. It’s mostly in jewelry you’ll see it. Humans must wear red in some form as it’s stated by law if they live in Arestella. Blue is often a color worn by wealthy families, a multiple array of colors can be worn by the average vampire. I’m not very familiar with how it all works though. Vampires have their own class system like us wolves have though.” Namjoon explained as he guided you through the crowd as you curiously looked around.

You felt a smile tug on your lips as you glanced around, excitedly spotting another patch of red on a young girls neck, she appeared around your age and she- unlike you- seemed used to the large crowds of people, yet oddly enough despite being surrounded by vampires she didn’t look the least scared, “How can humans live here despite knowing a vampires nature? I think we don’t give them enough credit sometimes.” You commented as you let your eyes focus ahead.

“Most likely because humans here use sigils to keep them protected from feral vampires,” Namjoon snorted, looking somewhat amused at how fascinated you seemed by this strange new world, “They live quite peacefully. Vampires are a bit proud though, they don’t like admitting that they do need humans to survive. No matter how much they can argue that they can feast on turned vampires, they still need humans for that to happen.”

You hummed in curiosity before laughing a little, noticing the mild annoyance in Namjoon’s tone as he glanced ahead, a hint of smile on his face when he heard you as you both walked hand in hand. Eventually you did make it up to the castle together.

You had never seen anything like it, the way the dark brick walls towered high above your head and the wings of the castle stood large and proud. Even though the courtyard was filled with lush flowers and benches for rest, it looked like something straight out of a fairytale. You didn’t understand how guards and maids could walk by without so much as a glance at the beautiful scenery.

Namjoon tugged you along as your lips parted, the castle doors opening upon your arrival and you were greeted by a smiling maid that curtsied to you both immediately guiding you up several flights of stairs, the corridors were long but you couldn’t help but focus on the beautiful marble flooring.

The way the original white swirled with black and greys and speckled gold with even some peacock blue highlighting. Or the doors and the Jeon’s symbol painted in silver on each door, or the way the handles reflected their polished shine against the light that flooded in rays of gold through the windows.

You had never been somewhere so refined. All you had ever known was the wild untamed beauty of nature, mountains and thickets of evergreen and streams that clashed with marshes. Sleeping out in the woods were galaxies formed in the sky, where you could even see speckles of stardust in the sky. You didn’t realize two things could be so different, yet so beautiful in their own way.

“Here you are Sir Kim! His royal Highness will be with you in a moment!” She curtsied once more before shutting the doors of the room. The room was spacious and wide, it appeared to be...an office of some sort? Your brows furrowed a little as you walked in, the fireplace was not lit up but there were four chairs, two on either side of a rug that was placed in front of it.

Then there was the desk on the far end of the room next to a large window that overlooked the woods near the castle.

On the other end of the room was an assortment of trinkets of...personal achievements maybe? You perked at the sound of footsteps padding down the hallway gently, “There’s something wrong…!” Your brows furrowed and your head tilted like a puppy at the sound of a soft feminine voice, they must’ve been at the far end of the hallway, walking closer to the door you tried to listen better.

“Shh, worry not my love. I’ll deal with it. Right now you should be attending your lessons. I promise nothing will happen.” The other voice was deep yet soft, alluring in dulcet quiet manner, yet seemed attentive and in demand for everyone's attention, “I’ll discuss everything with Blood Moon’s leader.”

You could hear a faint sigh, “Please Jungkook...I...I don’t know what I’d do if this turns out to be true.” You felt your face immediately burn in embarrassment.

You just eavesdropped on the Vampiric Prince’s private conversation with his mate!

You whirled away from the door as you fumbled to sit down next to Namjoon who looked at you curiously, “Heard something you shouldn’t have?” You scowled at his teasing words as you crossed your arms. Namjoon had been scolding you recently on your nosey habit of using your one good ability to your advantage far too often.

The door opened quietly as your gaze immediately followed the noise. You were met with a tall man, who just like everyone else in Arestella was undoubtedly beautiful, but even then. Prince Jungkook seemed unnaturally beautiful, his dark raven hair contrasting heavily against his glossed pristine pale skin, his hair hung low on his face and one side tucked behind his ear giving him an oddly regal look.

A smile graced his lips as he bowed while you and Namjoon stood up, “It’s good to see you again Namjoon,” His voice, confirmed the same dulcet tone you heard in the hallway before his eyes turned to look at you, they were a deep burgundy red not at all the bright red that Namjoon’s eyes usually glowed, “You must be his new mate. You have my congratulations.”

You gave an awkward smile, feeling your face heat up at someone so beautiful staring directly into your soul as you fumbled with your fingers, a noise escaping you that made you all the more embarrassed as you hid somewhat behind your mate, “She’s a little shy,” Namjoon smiled endearingly down at you, a hand affectionately combing through your hair as you glared with a pout at the ground, “This is Y/n, my mate. You may call her Luna. She’s just here to observe today in case she needs to come in my place in the future.”

Jungkook nodded before taking a seat across from you both as you sat down once more, “Then let’s start. We’ve been getting a heavy influx of demonic energy on the south side of Incúrsio. I’m aware you’ve had some tension with them in the past but it’s different this time. Despite the Ceremony’s passing they’re experiencing mass hysteria saying it’s the end of the world. After doing a little bit of poking…” Jungkook sighed, shutting his eyes as you sensed a vague annoyance fill him, “I found out there’s a reason why.”

Namjoon tilted his head in observation, you had never seen his expression so quizzical before but then again you had never seen Namjoon in such an important meeting, “And that is?”

“A...friend,” Jungkook offered a weak smile, “Has told me there’s been a bit of, descent in the underworld if you will...One of the Prince’s of Hell, in his words was: ‘Throwing a tantrum’ and to ‘not worry about it’,” Jungkook looked semi exasperated as you furrowed your brows, “But despite his words we’ve been getting reported demon sightings and if a portal to Hell has been weakened for any demon strong enough to push through the traversing barrier we’re going to have a problem. He said he’d take care of it but...I have some doubt.” Jungkook sighed.

Namjoon frowned as he rested his chin against his head, “So what do you want Blood Moon to do about it?”

“I want you to keep an eye out of any demonic energy, I know you’re a nomadic group and you travel all over the realm...Said friend, assumes it’s only the portal in Incúrsio but...Given the reports I’ve received from other royal officials in other Kingdoms, it doesn’t seem like it. And please, ignore the people of Incuriso should you go back to your homestead meanwhile. They’re unwell right now and cannot think straight.” Jungkook answered, his gaze looking out the window into the wilderness were the tree’s swaying with the wind delicately.

“We’ll do what we can, but if Incúrsio tries to attack my people. I can’t make any promises Jungkook.” Namjoon hummed as he leaned back in his seat, “But I will do what I can to defuse the situation should it arise. Is that all?”

“For now,” Jungkook replied, fixing the cuff of his sleeve before glancing back up, “But you’re staying the next few days for a reason. Please make yourselves comfortable in the palace. I expect to see you both at dinner.” You nodded as you and Namjoon stood up making your way for the door, “Luna,”

You paused at the deep voice of Jungkook as he called out, “A word please?” You glanced at Namjoon as you frowned, he gave a small smile encouragingly, stroking your hair once before exiting the room, closing the door behind him as you timidly turned around. Something about the Vampiric Prince put you on guard, though you were positive it was simply due to just how intimidatingly attractive him and his kin were.

You got an oddly seductive, yet dangerous energy from any vampire you had came into contact with since arriving to Arestella, Jungkook wasn’t an exception, “Please, don’t look so timid,” Jungkook offered a gentle smile as he folded his hands as if to appear non threatening, “I just wanted to speak to you for a moment. Much like my own mate, everyone has been awaiting Namjoon to find his other half. I wish you the best of luck on becoming Blood Moon’s Luna.”

He stood up, elegantly walking up to you, eyes dark like pools of the blood yet there was nothing dangerous or malicious about them, “If you’re ever in need of a place to stay Arestella’s doors will always be open to you. My kingdom would be happy to serve Blood Moon’s Luna in any need or situation. I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

Tugging on a strand of your hair you managed a tiny smile as you glanced up at him, “Thank you, it’s appreciated.”

To that Jungkook offered a dazzling smile that showed off the sharp teeth of his fangs, his smile could put nearly anyone to shame as he chuckled, walking to his desk as he hummed, “You should meet my mate while you’re here. I feel like you’d both get along rather well. And she’s often lonely these days. The court,” You could see the dismay in Jungkook’s eyes as he stood in front of the large window by his desk, “They aren’t accepting of commoners like her. She doesn’t like to worry me but I can tell she struggles by herself when I’m unable to keep her company. She could use a friend to confide in.”

You swallowed thickly as you managed a smile, nodding, “Of course! I’ll make sure to introduce myself if I get a chance.” It felt like an incredible honor to have the crowned Prince of Arestella ask if you could keep his mate company but you’d try your best.

You just didn’t know who she was outside of the news you had heard. Despite being in isolation word eventually made its way to your pack that the Vampiric Prince had found his mate, but not only his mate, but a commoner at that.

Many in your pack sneered at that and often laughed, someone of low ranking suddenly becoming the mate of someone powerful? Unheard of.

You felt a vague sense of empathy, you were in the same position as the Princess at one time. Except your new pack were very accepting of you...You supposed the same could not be said for the future Princess of Arestella, you couldn’t imagine how snide the Court must’ve truly been.

“I’ll see you later then.” Jungkook offered you one last small smile before you left his office, closing the door gently before you noticed Namjoon waiting down the hallway, his eyes set on the artwork that displayed on the walls.

“Finished?” Namjoon hummed as he glanced over to you, a hand falling to your head to pat it as you pouted a little as you nodded, “Then come along, they prepared lunch for us. What did Jungkook want to talk to you about?”

You tilted your head, his tone rather strange. It sounded as if he was trying to come off relaxed but there was a tense note in his delivery. But then it struck you, most werewolves were naturally jealous of their mate associating with the opposite sex, alpha’s no doubt.

You felt a teasing smile tug on your lips as you snickered, “Nothing, he just wanted to ask if I could speak to his mate, to become friends with her. Despite having similar class systems, it seems the court is rather….Icy about her becoming one of them.”

“That’s not too big of a surprise,” Namjoon wrapped an arm around you, keeping you snug against him as he continued, “Royal court is always filled with people who look down their noses at one another. Civilization is an odd sort but they make it work. I’m sure his mate does feel lonely. I’d hate to be a commoner entering the court. Many are wolves disguised as sheep.”

You tilted your head in thought, that was often an analogy humans used to describe people who pretended to be innocent when they were truly guilty. You supposed you could see what he meant by his words despite feeling as though wolves really weren’t all that bad, “It’s just odd. I can’t imagine being in that position.”

“Well the good news is that you aren’t.” Namjoon pressed a kiss against the top of your head making you smile as you wrapped your arms around his waist, nudging his arm a little, a silent ask for affection, “And we don’t have to deal with any kind of courts fickle business.”

Namjoon immediately complied, his hands stroking your sides as you paused in your spot, preening at his pet against your skin and the way his lips peppered against your cheeks, “You look like a little pup my omega.” He whispered, a small smirk on his face as he nipped the tip of your nose, “Always whining and begging for affection, always greedy for more.”

You stretched your neck a little at the feeling of his nose rubbing against your neck, a surprised whine escaping you at the feeling of his scent gland suddenly knocking against you, “You smell like vampire.” Namjoon growled against your ear, a whine escaping you as you tugged on his loose button up shirt, “When you should smell like me instead.”

He nipped your ear in warning to be quiet as he rubbed his scent gland along your neck. It was in your nature to be obedient, standing completely still as you allowed Namjoon to continue to scent you. Often a gesture done right before mating or simply a display of dominance.

“Are you wet little omega?” Namjoon growled in your ear quietly making a pathetic whimper escape you, your thighs squeezing together as you lowered your gaze in embarrassment. Of course he could smell your heady scent, “Do you like being reminded of who you belong to?”

His voice was deep and murmured in your ear causing you to tug on his shirt as he rubbed his scent gland one last time on your neck, “Come on, let’s get lunch. I’m sure you’re starving.” Your lips parted in almost offense at the way Namjoon suddenly pulled away, obviously satisfied with his work as you now were drenched in his scent and panties dripping wet.

“What?” Namjoon tilted his head innocently but you could see that evil glint in his eyes that enjoyed watching you squirm as you glared at him, pulling away from him with a pout as you crossed your arms, “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.” Namjoon lovingly stroked your hair as he kept his arm loose around you as you began walking once more.

This man was going to be the absolute death of you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The flecks of concern were apparent in Namjoon’s eyes as he frowned, sitting up in bed as he was preparing to attend another meeting with the Prince and his order of knights. His hand gently resting on your head, thumb soothingly swiping over your warm skin as you nodded, yawning a little as you tried curling closer to his body.

You looked rather pitiful truthfully, stretching your arms out to him as a verbal whine escaped you, wanting his affection once more as he smiled endearingly, “Sorry little omega,” Namjoon cooed as he brushed your hair from your eyes, “I have to attend this meeting. I’ll come back once it’s finished and then we can stay in bed for as long as you’d like.”

Your body trembled a little, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down your forehead as you whined again, “Do you really have to go?” You mumbled, your head laying in his lap as his fingers tenderly stroked through your hair lovingly. You weren’t sure what it was but you had woken up in the middle of the night feeling hot and you had since been clinging to Namjoon. All you did know was you felt much needier than normal for affection.

You didn’t want your mate to leave.

“It sounds pretty important,” Namjoon leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead before frowning, “You’re burning up. I knew that cold rain was going to catch up to you.” He sighed with a tut as you offered a weak smile, letting your arms wrap around his waist as he shifted in his seat, “I’ll send a maid to make sure you’re taken care of while I’m gone. Now c’mon on little omega, I need to go before I’m late.”

You let out a louder whine, the innate need for your alpha to be by your side running through your veins as you curled against him. You could feel sweat dripping down your collar bones as you nudged your nose against his stomach.

Namjoon looked a little guilty as he pried your hands off him, tears welling in your eyes as you whined again curling up in bed as your body trembled once more, “Shhh, I’ll be back sweetheart. Hopefully your fever will have gone down a little by the time I do.”

Namjoon let go of your figure as you weakly cried out, collapsing against your pillow as you whimpered unable to speak at the way your wolf was crying out in desperation for your mate to not leave you. The door closed gently as your body continuously began to tremble and with shaky hands you tied up your hair as you began shedding your clothes.

You were so hot. Another whine escaped you as you laid down back in bed, a violent tremor sounding through your body and your muscles were beginning to lock and clench as you groaned. A few minutes later a knock gently sounded at the door before a maid appeared inside.

She gave you a sympathetic smile, “The Alpha told me what was going on, I have some cool rags to help with the fever miss, we’ve sent a maid to get you a tonic to help cool you off.” She explained gently as she kneeled down, bless her heart as she gently placed the cool cloth over your forehead as you tried to suppress the whine from your lips.

Your wolf was just about as pathetic as you right now, howling and crying at her mate leaving her. The rag was quickly to dry up as the maid gently patted your collarbones down as she frowned, “You feel much hotter than most with a fever, are you sure you don’t have any other ailments?”

Your lips trembled for a moment as you thought about it. Abruptly you stiffened as your thighs clenched together, the sticky feeling of arousal making another whimper force its way out of your lips, “I’-I’m okay! It’s um….It’s just a...wolf thing…” You forced a smile as you clenched your thighs together, the maid frowned not understanding your words before she sighed, “Very well, but don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.” You nodded rapidly, trying to ignore the itch to let your hands furiously get to work.

You groaned as the door shut, trying to squeeze your thighs shut as if it would make it any better. Most humans and vampires alike may have derived the word Mate from werewolves but...your nature was still a mystery to them. Your long delayed heat included.

Your body had been in survival mode for so long that your heat hadn’t come in a long time, you never expected for it to come so early. No wonder you had felt so needy for your mates attention.

A whine escaped you once more as you flopped on your stomach, burying into the mattress before your hips immediately began rubbing into the bed in desperate need of friction, heat was suffocating you and pain was beginning to well in your lower body.

Omegas were truly the worst off with monthly heats whereas Beta’s only experienced them every three months and once every six months for Alpha’s. Over all being an omega truly was miserable. You had forgotten all about your heat after your body kicked into survival mode causing you to miss.

It made sense for it’s return though, you had met your mate, you not only were safe but you were taken care of and pampered. Your heat suddenly showering up was like your body telling you it was time to get pregnant. Your thighs began trembling at the idea of your mate, your alpha mounting you and filling you with his big knot.

You buried your face into the pillow as you whined, it didn’t matter how pathetically you humped the bed it wasn’t a replacement for what you craved. What your body needed and why arousal was seeping from your tiny hole and walls that squeezed around nothing at the idea of your alpha’s cock filling you up to breed you.

Just the idea of Namjoon’s scent was making you nearly delirious as your hips desperately rocked into the mattress once more, the strength of your heat intensifying with each moment before all you could do was tremble and whine against the bed, desperately looking for anything to help the pain. The mattress, the pillows, your fingers, anything.

Two hours.

That was how long Namjoon’s meeting took. Two hours before your ears perked up at the sound of the familiar footsteps, your wolf's tail was practically flying back and forth and crying out in need. Another wave of heat filtered through your body making sweat drip down your neck as you shakily sat up. The door quietly opened as Namjoon walked in, locking it behind him before he turned to face you.

His expression turned to sympathy that had you whining and whimpering, too weak to stand up but if you could you’d already be climbing up his tall figure, “Oh my little omega,” His voice was deeper than usual, a growl vibrating in his chest causing arousal to slide down your thighs as he slowly approached, “I could smell you all the way from the staircase.”

Your thighs felt weak at the way he stood in front of the bed looking down at you dauntingly as you fumbled against the bed, “Alpha,” You whined, lowering your gaze subserviently as you stumbled against the sheets, getting on all fours before presenting yourself for him your thighs shaky and pain coursing through you as you whimpered, “Please. Alpha it hurts.”

“Does it hurt omega?” Namjoon’s voice was growled and dominance seeped in his tone as you flinched at the feeling of his hand resting on the swell of your ass, “Do you need your alpha to stuff you full of his knot?” You jump with a cry at his hand slamming against your ass with a sting, tears pricking at your eyes as your hips impatiently backed against him.

A snarled growl left his lips as your cunt was met with the thick length of his cock hardened in his pants before his hands roughly grabbed your hips, “Be patient little omega,” His hands gripped your hips harshly and the smell of his scent wafting through the room was making you light headed as another drop of arousal seeped from your needy cunt, “Do you need your alpha to fill you? Do you need my pups little one? Do you need to be bred like a good little bitch?”

It was taking every ounce of energy to not needily drag yourself against his hips as you cried out with a frustrated whine, “Please alpha! Please! I’ll be a good mommy! I’ll take care of our pups! Please.” You needed to be filled with his cum.

Namjoon was filled with both arousal and his primal instincts running wild at the sight of you so subservient and pliable in his hands, your smell was thick and heady in the air causing a growl to escape his lips again, “Oh will you?” Namjoon growled softly, his cock throbbing his pants as his hands stroked against your soft ass, his hand dragging down before cupping you’re wet cunt as you whined.

Your toes curled as your hips began to frantically grind against his fingers, “Ah-ah! Alpha...!” Namjoon tutted, gripping your hips with his free hand as you whimpered against the sheets, your eyes filling with tears at the way your body burned and yet your mate was still teasing you, “You need to be patient little one.” Namjoon growled with a tease in his tone, his long slim fingers dragging against your wet folds as you whined, your back arching once more to try and coax him to give you what you wanted.

Instead his fingers only dragged down to meet your tender swollen clit, a cry escaping your lips as your walls clenched around nothing but air, “You’re so wet my little omega, do you need your alpha’s cock inside you,” Namjoon moaned his fingers circling and pressing against your sensitive sensitive bud as his eyes became lidded with desire watching the way you pitifully jolted and jerked to stay still for him.

Your muscles tensed before your hips began rubbing against his fingers, “What did I say?” Namjoon let out a low growl making you whine once more. His hand was not so light anymore as he struck your ass making you whimper before obediently stilling for him once more to do whatever he pleased.

His fingers dragged up your folds before you squeaked against the mattress as his finger pushing slowly into you, a second finger slid in with just as much ease due to your excessive arousal as you whimpered, “Alpha! Please! I need it! I need it please!” You begged with a sob as his fingers began jamming against your g-spot, your walls squeezing around him impossibly tight as your lips parted and your eyes snapped shut. This wasn’t at all a replacement for what you needed but it still felt amazing. You just needed more.

“You’re squeezing around me so tight little omega,” Namjoon cooed mockingly, you could practically hear the smirk on his face as his fingers began giving little thrusts as you felt drool dribbling against your chin, “How much do you need my cock bitch?” He growled, grabbing your hair as he yanked it, a gurgled cry escaped you as he pushed his fingers inside you once more.

Your hips unable to stay still anymore immediately began fucking yourself against him as you moaned and whined, his finger pads dragging along that little spongy spot as you gurgled, “Please! Alpha!” You could hardy formulate words as tears dropped down your face pleasure was twisting in your body yet it still wasn’t enough.

Namjoon let go of your hair to dive between your legs, his fingers dragging along your clit making you nearly cry out at the way your walls clenched around his fingers and the orgasm flooding through you. Your lips were parted and frantic cries escapes you as you rutted messily against his fingers, “Alpha!” Your cries were pathetic as the burning in your body only strengthened at the realization there wasn’t a knot filling your cunt.

Namjoon clacked his tongue at the sound of your pitiful sobs, your walls unbearably tight around his fingers and your hips attempted to back against him as he pulled them out of you, “My pretty omega,” He cooed softly, “Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fill your little cunt with my pups?”

His hands stroked against your sides as your legs violently shook while frantically nodding, “I’ll be a good mommy! Alpha please! Please! Need your knot! Please!” Your back arched harshly as you presented your cunt for him, desperately hoping he’d give you what your body was crying for.

Your head was becoming foggy and the need for something, anything to fill you with a knot became your number one need. Namjoon as if sensing you couldn’t take anymore teasing began to undone the knot of his pants, “You’ll be a good little bitch and carry my pups? You’ll let your alpha breed you like a good girl.” Namjoon let out a soft moan, his eyes closing as his cock sprung free, bobbing in the air in search for your cunt as his hands dragged against your waist, roughly petting down your sides as you whined at his praise.

Your body tensed and swelled with excitement as you squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling of his thick bulbous tip dragging along your wet slit as another deep growl left him, “Be a good girl and stay still.” You were whining against the sheets as his bulbous tip pushed inside you, the pain hardly even there as your heat had caused you to become dripping. Unlike humans you were made to be pounded into.

“Alpha! Alpha please!” You whined, your eyes shut tightly as you strangled a mewl while keeping your body obediently still. You could hear a low growled moan from Namjoon as he pushed his cock further inside you, your cunt eagerly letting him slide in further.

“Mmm so tight,” He leaned down as he growled against your ear making you squeak as your walls tightened around him, “My little omega likes presenting her cunt doesn’t she? Does she like to be fucked hard and knotted?” You didn’t get the chance to answer before Namjoon’s hips were slamming into you, his cock fixing the ache of your cunt as you moaned embarrassingly loud as your face pressed against the mattress.

Pleasure was immediate as you cried out, moans escaping you as your walls needily clenched around his cock, “Alpha!” You whined before squealing against the mattress at the feeling of his long fingers pressing into your tender swollen clit. You whimpered as pleasure welled hotly inside you, your body needy for him after denying your consummation for so long. Your body was being lurched with every powerful thrust of Namjoon as he growled, “That’s it omega, milk your Alpha’s cock, mmm that’s it. You want your alpha’s knot don’t you?”

“Yes please! Please! I’ll be a good girl.” You whined not having the energy to do anything but stay obediently in place as his massive cock continued splitting your cunt with every thrust, just feeling his thick length was causing your head to spin and your pleasure spiking as you mewled, “Alpha y-your so big…! Alpha please.”

Your hips kept trying to buck into him causing a low snarl to escape him, Namjoon sounded nearly primal compared to his gentle level headed manners, hand large hands tightly gripping your hips and forcing them still as you whined in impatience your body craved his knot badly but you had heard Alpha’s don’t knot as quick as Beta’s.

“Be patience bitch.” Namjoon growled, his hands would certainly leave bruises later as his hips slammed into you to sate your needy cunt, he growled in pleasure at feeling your tiny walls trap his throbbing cock, “Gonna have my pups, fill your cunt up until your tummy is filled with my pups.” You whined as your body jolted, walls clenching harshly at his cock roughly sliding in and out of you, your heat craving his knot as your thighs trembled in anticipation.

“Please alpha! Please! I’ll be a good mommy.” You whined and whimpered, your back aching from it’s uncomfortable arch but your ass perking, wanting the perfect angle for his knot. Namjoon’s fingers roughly rubbed into your clit only making your walls that much tighter as his hips snapped harshly into yours, his chest pressing into your back as he growled into your ear, “That’s right little omega you’re going to have my pups. Mine.”

Your thighs were beginning to tremble at the feeling of his base swelling, “You’re going to be an obedient bitch and take my knot.” He snapped, his hand tangling into your hair to yank it only to shove your face into the soft mattress as his hips rammed into you at an unnatural speed.

Your moans and cries were muffled as your walls began to rapidly convulse, the feeling of his thick fat cock ramming into your tiny walls, his fingers rubbing roughly into your clit. His rough manhandling. You were like a howling pup when your orgasm snapped in your body, whines and whimpers escaping you as Namjoon growled, his scent was overwhelming and he leaned down snapping his hips as he continued rutting into you, his fangs dragging over your neck before he sunk them deep into your neck.

A loud whimper escaped you, your cunt clenching around him harder as all of your sense overwhelmed you, you couldn’t smell anything but firewood and cedar, his cock only making your orgasm that much better as he dragged it past your g-spot with each stroke as he marked you.

The base of his cock was swelling rapidly and dominant pheromones were rolling off his body as he growled and snapped at your obedience, still riding the high of your orgasm as your body was jolted and tossled by his hips which were roughly smacking against yours before you heard a choked moan escape him. Letting his cock fully rest in you as you muffled a whine against the mattress.

Tears stung your eyes at the feeling of his knot, it was massive and plugged up your small hole as you felt the first burst of hot cum stream from his cock, nobody ever told you that your hormones were running so crazy that you’d cum just from him cumming. But here you were letting out the most embarrassing cries and squeals in pleasure and it was like your orgasm was tenfold at being filled up by your Alpha.

Spit was dripping into the bed as you let out the lewdest moans, your hips grinding against his cock that was completely stuck inside you, a snappy growl escaped Namjoon as he released your neck from his mouth, his cock hyper sensitive yet your needy grinding earned the second spurt of cum from his knot , “Stop that you needy little bitch.” Namjoon snarled in command, your walls split open by his massive cock yet they were still so tight around him. His cum was like euphoria for you. Making your head spin and your body nearly black out in pleasure as your hips kept trying to grind against him for more.

Namjoon snapped again as he grabbed your hips making you cry out with a whine, walls needily clenching around around him earning a third load of his seed as you moaned pathetically, your knees trembling but your body was begging for more. Taking pity on your trembling desperate figure Namjoon let his fingers return to your clit nearly making you scream as you whine against the sheets, “That’s right little omega.” Namjoon purred against your ear, “Let them all know who you belong to.”

You were trying your best to be still, you really were. Tears pricked at your eyes as he let his fingers circle over your swollen bud, your walls harshly clenching around him earning a low growl, “Keep milking my cock baby. You’re gonna be such a good mommy.” Namjoon nipped against your ear as you whimpered. You were in absolute bliss, being stuffed full of his knot, his fingers playing with your clit while filling you with his seed.

Your inner wolf was howling in ecstasy. The pleasure was so much you weren’t sure when it happened but your vision began to spot before darkening altogether.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better Luna.” Your cheeks burned at the Prince’s well meaning comment as you gave a timid smile, trying not to think about just why you had gotten ‘sick’ according to the rest of the court. Namjoon’s nose nudging against your neck as you curled into your seat. Your heat would have been unbearable had it not been for your mate, but Namjoon had taken care of you the whole week and…

You couldn’t say for sure but you had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before a pregnancy was announced. You couldn’t say for sure, omega’s weren't easy to impregnate but, surely after being knotted for a week straight by an Alpha...Just the idea of little pups running around had you nearly bouncing in your seat, “Oh, thank you Your Highness, I’m feeling much better.” You nudged back against Namjoon, eliciting a small growl in your ear from him as he straightened up a little.

A large hand stroked against your hair as Namjoon spoke up, “Thank you for letting us stay, we’ll be heading out later this evening to unite with the pack, I’m sure they’re all ready to begin our journey back to our territory.”

Jungkook offered an easy smile as he nodded, long locks of raven hair shielding his eyes briefly with the movement as he replied, “I’m sure, wolves have always had the tendency to be nomadic in nature. I just have one request for you.” Namjoon raised his brows in curiosity as the Prince looked to his mate, a gentle encouraging smile on his lips as if trying to coax her to speak.

She withered a little, looking away in reservation as she mumbled, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jungkook’s hand squeezed against hers in confirmation as she took a breath in resignation before glancing between you both, “I’m...looking for someone...A powerful witch, they say she lives north, I don’t expect you to look for her, but if you were to stumble across one such as herself, please send her to me, directly.”

You tilted your head in confusion before you glanced at Namjoon, witch of the north...? Was this the same witch the scout from the Sisterhood was looking for? You could see the a mixture of desperation and resignation in the Princess’s eyes as she glanced back at the table, her hands folded as Jungkook tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear with soft eyes, “Pardon my words but,” Everyone’s attention was on you as you tilted your head, didn’t Namjoon say the royal court enforced these rules more then anyone? “Isn’t witchcraft punishable by death…?”

A tense air took over the table and it seemed your words were confirmed, while you didn’t live in any kingdom, you had known just as well as anyone else witchcraft was against nearly every kingdom's law. Jungkook bowed his head, as if in understanding of your confusion, “It is, which is why we ask you to keep this between the both of you. We’re looking for someone dear to my mate, but the only way we can possibly find closure is through magick. Please don’t go out of your way or put yourselves in danger for this.”

Namjoon nodded in understanding though keeping what he had previously talked to you about a secret, “Of course, we’ll keep a lookout if we come across anyone with that sort of power.”

“Thank you.” The Princess offered a small smile before letting her gaze drop back to her plate, the conversation between the Prince and Namjoon picking up once more with any last minute details of what to look out for.

After your private dinner with the crowned Prince and future Princess you had made your way out of the palace. While you would miss the plush beds and elaborate meals you wouldn’t lie in saying you were glad to be out of the bustling city and into the open air where your new pack greeted you with open arms.

Taking a long sniff of the fresh air you curled up against Namjoon where the big bonfire was, everyone conversed and celebrated another fruitful picking to eat well. Namjoon’s arms wrapped around you as he nudged against your neck, a smile on his lips as he hummed, “Should we tell the pack?”

You felt a smile tug on your lips as you looked up at the man who had become your whole life, shaking your head as you let out a breathy laugh, “No, I’d rather not tell them until we know for sure.”

Pressing a kiss into your neck Namjoon flirted, “We’ll give it two weeks.” You rolled your eyes with a smile as you leaned against him, his hands tenderly stroking your stomach as you closed your eyes. You couldn’t wait to begin the journey to a new land once again and experience everything with your mate in hand.

#bts #bts au #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader smut #namjoon x y/n #namjoon smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #alpha!namjoon #werewolf!bts

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hes-writer · 3 years

Text

deja vu

Summary: part two of drivers license!

Warning: angst

Word Count: 1643 words

let me know if you liked it!

_____

If this was a movie, Y/N would’ve collapsed on the floor, knees hitting the ground as her legs lost the ability to keep her weight up. The corners of her lips would tilt downwards as a fusion of sadness and nostalgia bombarded her at every corner. Tears would collect at her waterline, waiting for the remarkable blink that would send each drop of salty liquid down the apples of her cheeks. Y/N imagined she would call Harry on her phone and scream at him as soon as the click sounded, signalling that he had picked up the call.

Yet as seconds passed by, none of those theatrical episodes happened. Unlike in the movies, Y/N’s physical reactions were minuscule. Her heart ached in her chest. Her throat scrunched like a wad of tissue papers in her hand, drying up with shock and the shallow inhales she let out. The swirling of her stomach increased tenfold as she teetered between feelings of anger and indifference. This should not affect her anymore--or should it? It had barely been a few months since she last saw him and a little bit after when the first photos of Harry and his girlfriend went viral on the internet.

Everyone, especially him, seemed to move on from the relationship that they had shared. Y/N felt like she needed to catch up to him, racing to throw away the feelings she still held for him and to pretend as though nothing happened. But it was easier said than done. There were still endless memories that replayed through her head every time she passed by an ice cream shop. It was a hidden gem, past the popular hot spots. Not a lot of people knew about it because of its distanced location. And as much as Harry was a certified health nut; his guilty pleasure was a scoop of strawberry ice cream--in a cup instead of a waffle cone, of course.

Y/N still remembered those drives-turned-beach-trips. It was mostly during his days off. She and Harry would spend the whole day together, sharing one spoon amongst each other while they passed the cup of ice cream back and forth. The sound of the ocean encompassed them as they lay hidden around an alcove of rocks. It was a secluded area of the beach that Y/N had found way before. The sand was grainy beneath the layer of a checkered picnic blanket that Harry kept at the trunk of his car, their bodies laying on top of it. Eventually, Harry would proceed to just spoon-feed her, ‘accidentally’ nudging her nose with the cold treat.

Y/N could feel her shoulders slump at the flashback, body sagging as she sighed at what her phone screen was reflecting back to her. It was her Instagram feed showcasing Harry’s profile. A picture of a haunting landscape was captured by his phone lens; it was the very same beach spot that she had taken him to. Deja vu.

She bit her lip, wanting to smile about how he still visited it even without her. It showed that Harry still kept a memory of her at the back of his mind. Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought, a sliver of hope shining through the dimness of her days. But it was impossible to keep an optimistic stance when she saw the caption. A simple tag of his new girlfriend’s Instagram handle puckered her lips into a sour expression, brows pinching together in curiosity as Y/N continuously denied the obvious constituent of events.

“There’s no way,” She muttered, breath hitching as Y/N’s thumb hesitated on tapping the bolded font.

There was absolutely no way that Harry would bring someone else in such a coveted spot. It was hers; she found it first and now he was acting as though it did not hold any meaning to her. Not like Y/N didn’t spend the last few days laying on his lap, watching the sunset over the horizon. Harry’s fingers would comb through her tendrils, tucking his jacket tighter around her chin to ensure that she was warm despite him being covered in goosebumps himself. Y/N would look up to see the beginning stubbles of his facial hair as Harry looked ahead, his green eyes mirroring the artistic hues of orange, pink and purple.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Jenny asked, returning from her short trek to Y/N’s small kitchen. One hand was carrying a large bowl of chips while the other held two cans of soda.

Y/N stared at her friend with hesitance. Was it worth bringing it up? She must be sick of her talking about him all the time.

“He brought her to our place,”

It was harder to hear it out loud. She didn’t even recognize her own voice; void of emotion except for a strained sound of pain.

Jenny tilted her head to the side, “Who did?”

“Harry. . .” Y/N cleared her throat before continuing, “There was this place I found in Malibu. At a beach. It’s pretty hidden and I used to go there by myself whenever I needed to think. I took him there. It was our place, you know? Somewhere only the two of us knew and I don’t know,” She trailed off.

“You thought he would keep it between you guys,” Jenny finished off, nodding her head in empathic comprehension.

“Yeah, it just sucks,” Y/N furrowed her brows, staring at the space in front of her as she took in the gravity of the situation. “He even took her to D’Campos,”

“The ice-cream shop?”

She nodded, “It was on her Instagram story today,”

“Forget about him, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your tears,”

“I’m not even crying,” She chuckled, slapping Jenny’s arm jokingly.

“You look like you’re about to,”

Y/N sighed, “It hurts. Feels like he’s everywhere. Just when I thought I was moving on, he pulls shit like this and I’m forced to remember how good it was between us, you know? I haven’t driven past D’Campos or anywhere else that I might see him because it hurts too much to reminisce what I don’t have anymore.”

It was ridiculous how much Y/N has had to change her routine in order not to feel any more pain. She actively avoided places where Harry frequented in fear of confrontation and also because he might be with his girlfriend. She didn’t know how she could stay stoic seeing their hands clasped together, gazing at each other lovingly when Y/N wanted that from him for herself.

“You’re doing just fine, honey. Do you know who can’t move on? Him.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s doing fine,” Y/N said sarcastically, resting her back on the couch. “Better, even.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Jenny argued, “Out of the two of you, who’s the one always going to the places you shared?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but a swift hand in the air caused her to halt.

“It’s him, right?” Jenny answered rhetorically. “I do not care what you say; that man misses you and it shows. Harry’s going to where he expects you to be, probably in hopes of running into you. Maybe even because he wants to relive the moments you shared together with her in hopes of him feeling the same way he felt like when he did with you,”

“T-that’s insane. He’s fine without me,” Y/N stuttered out, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

“First of all, you are in denial. Secondly, you cannot tell me that he doesn’t. He’s practically doing everything you guys used to do with this new girl. Why? Because he fucking misses you, Y/N. Hell, you’ve even got the same name.”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“My ass,” Jenny scoffs, “Answer me something, do you still remember how it felt being there with him?”

Y/N nodded, “Always,”

“Describe it to me,”

Y/N squinted her eyes in suspicion. Where was Jenny going with this?

“Uh, as cheesy as it sounds, I felt happy and free. I could talk about anything without being judged. He had a way of making me feel comfortable without even saying anything. When we were together--wherever we were--I could be vulnerable about myself in front of him,”

“Would you do whatever it takes to feel that same way again?”

In a heartbeat, Y/N stated, “Without a doubt.”

“Tell me, if Harry asked you to meet him there right now, would you go?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took a moment to process the question. She had just said that she would do whatever it takes to feel the same unconfined emotion again. So why was she saying ‘no’?

“I-I wouldn’t,”

“Exactly,” Jenny concluded with a quirk of her brow.

“You’re gonna have to explain,”

“Gladly,” Her friend quipped. “You want to feel liberated, vulnerable, and honest again but not necessarily with Harry. That place meant a lot to you--sure. But it doesn’t matter. What counts is who you are with. Who’s giving you that type of comfortability that you’re able to be just yourself around them. Do you understand?”

Y/N leaned forward in interest.

“You are well aware of that but you won’t accept it. You won’t go with him because you know that it won’t be the same anymore. That’s the first step of moving on. Once you acknowledge that as much as you miss him, as much as you think you want him to be around, you know better than that. He’s changed and so have you. He’s searching for that same feeling by going back to the places that you used to go to. Thinks he will find it there but--,”

“He won’t.” Y/N finished off. “Because she is not me,”

___

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #deja vu #sour #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic

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aiyaar · 3 years

Text

Nico di Angelo was ten years old when his life went to hell. He never felt so devastated, so ruined. The only person who cared about him, his family, his everything was gone.

Nico hated all of them. He hated sister for leaving him behind, as if he was nothing, just to die afterwards and leave him completely alone. He hated those stupid huntresses of Artemis for taking his sister away from him. He hated Annabeth Chase, whoever it was, for falling off the cliff and making them go on this quest. But most of all he hated him. Percy Jackson. The ultimate hero, so strong and cool. He hated everything about him. He let him down. Percy Jackson let his sister die.

It was already a month since Bianca left this world. A lonely, cold month. Grieve still strangled him. This month has passed in a blur.

Nico passed an empty street, not even bothering to lift up his head. Snow was falling from the white sky and Nico shivered slightly from the cold. He needs to find some warmer clothes.

The city clock struck twelve, sound cutting through the silence. Another day has come. As if Nico cared. Suddenly he stopped, absentmindedly looking at the date on the billboard. 28th January.

Nico titled his head. He didn’t even know his birthday was coming. He always loved his birthday, so excited to modestly celebrate it with Bianca. Bianca…

A lonely tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another. Nico didn’t bother to wipe them, letting them fall.

“Happy Birthday to me.” He said in a shaky voice, sitting in the snow right in the middle of the street. Nico buried his face in his palms, trying to quiet down choked sobs.

Nico di Angelo was eleven years old when he lost himself.

Nico di Angelo was eleven when he started to chase the dream of making his sister come back to life. He was obsessed with the idea, almost going mad in the company of hurt and angry ghosts.

Minos had promised him that he’ll see Bianca again. And Nico believed. What else he could do. He was alone. He was hurt.

Why can’t she talk to him? Why she doesn’t want to show up? She doesn’t want to see him. She despises him. She doesn’t want him.

Nico heard rustling sound under his boots. He picked up the newspaper, catching the date with his eyes. 1st February.

Well, another year passed. Nico didn’t care that he missed his birthday. But a little ache didn’t want to leave his heart as he remembered how Bianca smiled at him the day he turned ten.

And then, months later, she showed up, just to say him that he has to let go. Just to make Nico know that this plan wouldn’t work. Minos was a liar. He used Nico. His only hope was trampled.

Misery was what Nico felt. The weird, nasty feeling crawled up to his throat.

Aside from that, one image didn’t want to leave his mind. His face lived in his head, not wanting to leave. His stupid smile, green eyes, tousled hair. Why Nico keeps thinking of him?

Why did she want to talk to him, not Nico? This stupid guy, with his annoying grin made Nico want to- What?

Nico freezed, trying to finish this though. Did Nico want to kill him? Hurt him? No, it was something else. He felt weird every time he heard his name. Percy Jackson.

Nico di Angelo was twelve when he started to realize something about himself.

Nico di Angelo was twelve when he wanted to rip out his own heart. Abnormal, disgusting. He was sick of himself. He felt nauseous at the very thought of it.

It can’t be true, no. He’s mistaken.

He was lying on his bed at his father’s castle, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his face. Those gorgeous green eyes, goofy smile, tousled black hair. His mind was ranting: Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson.

Nico felt like he was about to cry. Why is he like this? Is he broken?

He looked to the side, at his night table. A bouquet of red roses stood there. An hour ago Persephone strode to his room with these flowers and a weird expression on her face. She silently put them in a vase and went back to the door. She stopped there, turning her head a little to look at him.

“Happy Birthday.” Was what she said. Then she left.

So it was his birthday. He’s thirteen now.

Nico stared at the flowers, a little bit shocked. She remembered about his birthday. His father didn’t even bother to check up on him.

Hades only cared about their deal. Nico was very hesitant about that. But after all, he agreed.

He just thought that if he does that then maybe Percy would… Like him? But he didn’t.

Percy Jackson hated him. He screwed everything up. It was horrible. He had to fix it.

So he did the best thing he could. He had to prove to Percy, to his father, to everyone that he is worth something. He was just a kid and the battle was scary. He was scared. But he was a hero.

Everyone respected him, some people wanted to be his friends. He even wanted to stay at camp. Nico was happy but only for a moment.

Days after the battle the whole camp started talking about how Percy and Annabeth finally kissed and got together.

Nico left without a warning. Not like he had anyone to warn. Not like anyone cared.

Nico di Angelo was thirteen when his heart was broken.

Nico di Angelo was thirteen when Percy Jackson had gone missing. Annabeth Chase went feral. And Nico promised to help. Of course he did.

He was actually worried. What could happen to him? Nico only knew that Percy was alive. It was somewhat reassuring.

Something bad was about to happen. Nico knew it. New demigods at Camp Half-Blood. One of them is a son of Zeus. That was a bad sign.

And now that Nico knows about romans…

Today was 28th January. His birthday. He already got used to ignore this day. Nico just marked the fact that he was fourteen now.

The door of his room swung open. Nico sat up on his bed, seeing his father in his usual black robes.

He stood there in silence for a minute or so, awkwardly staring at his son.

“Um, did you want something?” Nico said, nervously fumbling with the ring on his finger.

“Yes.” Hades came closer to his bed. “Well, not really. It’s just…” Lord of the Underworld sat on the corner of Nico’s bed. “It’s your birthday.”

Nico blinked, processing what his father was trying to say.

“Yeah, I know. Thank you for reminding me.” He finally said, scowling at his father. Like he ever cared about Nico anyway. “If that’s all you wanted to say-“

“No.” Hades looked strangely awkward. “You made me proud this year, you know?”

Nico’s eyes widened. Was his father trying to praise him?

“I wanted to say that I’m… Grateful. You made me make right choice. And what I said about you before… I’m sorry.”

Nico was more than shocked at this point. He felt awkward and Hades didn’t look better.

“Anyway, I vaguely know that mortals usually make gifts for the day one came from mother’s womb. And I thought that maybe you should spend time with your… peers?”

“What are you trying to say, dad?”

Hades took a deep breath, as if he was nervous.

“I want to give you a present. So that you will be able to go wherever you want, in those places where teenagers usually spend time.”

“You want to give me a car?” Nico asked, puzzled.

“No, you’re too young for that. I’ll give you a chauffeur, he’ll be helping you go to the mall or something. Because, well… I’m not able to do it for you.”

Nico blinked again, titling his head to the side.

“A chauffeur?”

Hades looked embarrassed for a moment. Then he put on a stern expression, standing up.

“Objections are not accepted. You should be grateful.” He strode off to the door. Then he stopped. “Happy Birthday, son.” He closed the door, leaving Nico alone in the dark room.

Nico di Angelo was fourteen when he received his first birthday present.

Nico di Angelo was fourteen when he met him. Will Solace.

It felt like a dawn after long, cold night. Will was his blessing, his salvation. And Nico didn't know what did he do to deserve someone like Will.

They've been dating for a couple of months, wonderful, amazing months. And Nico was genuinely thankful for everything Will had done to him.

Nico woke up at the knock on his door, blinking through the gloom of Hades cabin. He didn't know if it was morning already, because black curtains prevented any gleam of sunshine from crawling into his cabin.

Still, Nico knew exactly that it was early and he knew exactly who was outside, because there was only one person in this world who dared to wake him up.

Nico got out of bed and staggering came to open up the door.

Will Solace stood on the threshold. He was wearing his usual winter jacket and a scarf, a blinding smile on his face. He seemed to be particularly happy today and, judging by the flush on his face, he was running.

"Hey, Neeks." He ruffled his hair and came in, closing the door behind him as Nico shivered from the cold winter air.

"Good morning." Nico mumbled, still half asleep. "What time is it?"

"7 a.m."

"Why did you need to wake me up so early?"

Will looked him in the eyes, taking Nico’s cold hand with his warm one, which is weird, considering Will was the one who had a walk on winter air.

"Do you know what day it is?" He looked excited.

"Um, no, to be honest. I don't pay attention to the calendar." Nico sat down on his bed, wrapping himself in a blanket.

Will looked shocked.

"Are you serious?! I mean... It's 28th January!"

Nico's brain needed a moment to process what exactly Will wanted from him.

"Yeah. So?"

"So?! It's your birthday!"

Nico sighed.

"Guess I'm fifteen now. That also explains this." He pointed to his bedside table, where black envelope was perched on the top of black box. "Probably from my father."

Will looked at him, then at the envelope.

"So, like... Happy Birthday."

"Thank you." Nico got up again, reaching for the box. "Now go so I can change."

"Ok." Will strode off to the door, a strange expression on his face. Though Nico didn't pay much attention to it.

Nico opened the envelope. There was a thick wad of money and an invitation for a dinner. Nico will come, of course, but not today. In the box lay watches and a book in Italian.

The day went by as usual. Nico had a walk in the woods with Will before breakfast, then they were busy with their camp activities.

In the evening, right before they were about to go to the campfire, Will took his arm and told him.

"How about we won't go to the campfire today?"

"But you like-"

"I don't need to go there everyday. Especially today. Come to your cabin in twenty minutes." And he hastily strode off in the direction of the cabin thirteen.

Nico came in after twenty minutes to be met with dozens of candles around his room. Will was standing in front of him, holding a cake with fifteen lighted candles perched on it.

"Make a wish." He whispered as Nico came closer.

Nico looked him in the eyes and didn't know what to say. So he just did what he was told. Will smiled brighter.

"I baked it myself." He said proudly. "Well, Cecil helped me."

He put the cake on the table, now fumbling in his pockets.

"I have something for you, actually." He said, pulling out a small box from his pocket. "I don't know if you're going to like it but..."

Nico didn't hear what Will was saying as he opened the box with trembling hands. He pulled out a sun pendant on a thin gold chain. The sun looked just like the tattoo on Will's shoulder.

Nico couldn't hold back a tear that rolled down his cheek. Will watched him attentively, stopping his ranting when he saw it.

"Nico, what's wrong-"

The next thing Will knew, pale arms was wrapped tightly around him, Nico's face buried in Will's chest.

"Thank you." Nico said in a small, shaky voice before pulling back. He placed the sun pendant on his palm, watching it glisten in the candle light. Tears still rolled down his cheeks.

Will looked at him, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. He always understood. His sunshine was so alone, for so long. All Will wanted was to make him happy.

Will moved to embrace Nico in a tight hug, kissing the top of his head and then lifted his head with long, gentle fingers on his chin.

"I love you so much." He said. "You're such an amazing person. You're brave, gorgeous, smart, brilliant. Beautiful." He wiped the tear from Nico's cheek. "I will love you with all my might. I promise."

And with that he gently kissed Nico, making him smile while the tears of joy kept rolling down his cheeks.

"I love you, Will."

Nico di Angelo was fifteen when he found his happiness.

#nico di angelo #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo/hoo #will solace #jason grace #solangelo #frank zhang #annabeth chase #piper mclean #leo valdez #hazel levesque #reyna avila ramirez arellano #trials of apollo

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cherrybracelets · 3 years

Text

I’ll Take You On

bucky barnes x f. reader

18+ / drinking mentions, heavy smut (unprotected s*x, oral s*x (m receiving) )

inspired by: ill take you on by brockhampton

For your whole childhood, as long as you could remember, you wanted to be a veterinarian. You had loved animals, and couldn’t imagine a better way to spend your days than caring for them. But, as you grew up and the harsh realities of adulthood and capitalism dawned upon you, your dream was becoming less likely.

Vet school was way over you and your mom’s budget. It was just the two of you, and she wasn’t exactly bringing in buckets of cash at her teaching job. So, you had to get a bit more realistic.

After graduation college with a business degree, you set forth into the world hoping for a lifetime of amazing opportunities. But, a job didn’t come as easy as you’d hoped, and you were getting desperate. So desperate, in fact, that you called your estranged father begging for a job.

Your father left your mom when you were nine. You didn’t care much, as he wasn’t around a lot anyways. He was some big shot lawyer in Miami, and he was always traveling for work. It was honestly easier on you and your mom once he left. He didn’t make much an effort to connect with you after that, only calling every few months and sending wads of cash on Holidays, hoping to make up for his absence.

So, as you pushed aside your pride to call and ask for his help, it was really the least he could do. And lucky for you, his firm’s office manager had just quit. It didn’t sound like an incredibly difficult job and the pay was beyond what you wanted. Your father was most likely overcompensating with the salary. But he could afford it.

He also promised you a place to live, rent free. He owned multiple properties around the city, most of which he never used. It was kind of the perfect situation. A little suspiciously perfect.

But there were no other options. You needed a job and he desperately needed to feel like he wasn’t the worst father in the world. It was a win-win for both of you.

And obviously, Miami wasn’t the worst place you could be. You didn’t know anyone besides your father, but you didn’t care. The idea of relaxing on a beach alone soothed you way more than a group of screaming drunk girls.

After a week of settling into your apartment and the city, it was finally time to start your new job. You had met up with your father multiple times already, getting prepared for the job and visiting a few of his favorite spots around the city. He was actually really kind, but it was slightly uncomfortable talking to him.

You walked into his office on your first day, shaking in nerves as you prepared to meet your new coworkers. Would they treat you kindly, or did they catch up on the obvious nepotism that was lingering through this entire situation?

But your fears were quickly buried over as his staff welcomed you with open arms, talking highly of you and about how “proud” your father was to have you working here. You rolled your eyes at his obvious attempt to show a warmer side to his staff, but you let it slide. You had a job and place to live because of him, so it was the least you could do.

You spent the morning learning the phone and computer system, battling intrusive questions from everyone in the office and trying to learn how to work the damn coffee machine. But all in all, it wasn’t a bad job.

You never really knew what kind of law your father practiced, and maybe that was something you should’ve asked before, so you were a little less shocked. His clients were mega rich and famous. And your father was just mega rich. It kind of pissed you off, seeing how well he lived and how you and your mom never saw a penny of it. Part of you wanted to scream at him, break all the expensive glasses in his office and storm out. But what was the point? Caring about him was more energy than it was worth.

Your father met with his clients throughout the day, and part of your job was welcoming them to the office, getting them something to drink, and telling your father when they arrive. And today, at 2:12 PM, twelve minutes late for his appointment, he walked in.

“James Barnes. I’m here to see Henry,” he commanded, not bothering to look up from his cell phone and pay you an ounce of attention.

“Of course. Can I get you anything to drink?” You asked kindly, trying to keep your voice from quivering. He stood towering over you, his large frame blocking the light above, casting a shadow over your desk. He was one of the most beautiful and intimidating people you’d ever seen. You felt like you were going to choke if he looked directly at you.

But he didn’t. He walked cooly over to the sofa in the waiting area and sat down, mumbling “Scotch…”.

You stood up and walked away quickly, desperately trying to catch your breath. You slipped quietly into your father's office, smiling as you closed the door behind you.

“James Barnes is here. And he mentioned something about scotch, which I’m not sure if I’m authorized to give…”

Your father chuckled and stood up, walking over to a small bar cart in his office and pouring two drinks.

“Everyone calls him Bucky. He’s a good friend. Come on, i’ll introduce you.”

You followed behind your father in a daze, not ready to face him, not ready for his eyes to meet yours. Your skin felt hot and the room was spinning as your head, his loud voice greeting your father in excitement.

“Bucky! It’s been too long!” Your father yelled, handing him a drink and smiling sheepishly.

“Yeah, I had to be in New York a bit longer than I thought,” he trailed off, taking a sip of his drink. You were hiding behind your father, hoping he would forget about you and you could sneak away without a word. But of course you wouldn’t get away that easily.

“Bucky, I have to introduce you to my daughter. Today is her first day working here! (Y/N), come introduce yourself,” he instructed, turning towards you and ushering you in closer to Bucky.

“(Y/N)...” he whispered, the sound of your name in his mouth making your whole body light up. You had never heard it sound so beautiful before. He reached his hand out towards you, and you grabbed it lightly. His hands were soft and cold, shocking your skin as he touched you. As you shook hands, he leaned towards you, the smell of mint and tobacco pouring from his skin.

“Why don’t we head to your office, Henry,” he frowned, dropping your hand and turning towards your father. You brought your hand back to your side, confused and dizzy as you found your seat.

“Can… can I get you anything, Henry?” You stuttered, realizing awkwardly that this was the first time you’d addressed him, and you didn’t say dad. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, and you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Sorry, thought that would be more professional. Totally awkward, right?” You laughed, trying to ease the tension. You didn’t think your father would care if you called him Henry, but maybe he wanted you to play into the sweet daughter character at work.

“No, sweetheart, this is actually a private meeting. I don’t want any interruptions, unless someone’s dead. Okay?” He said in a serious tone, pushing aside any awkwardness. He hadn’t said this with any other clients he’s seen today, so it gave you an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach.

You turned towards Bucky, looking for some sign of a joke with him. But his face was carved of stone, his eyes locked on your father as if he expected Henry’s devout secrecy for any conversation they had.

The two walked quietly into his office and shut the door, leaving the image of him to only exist in your mind. You were curious who exactly this beautiful mystery was, so you did what you always did. Googled him.

You searched for a while, under both of the names he went by. But nothing. You couldn’t find him anywhere. Nothing on Facebook, Linkedin was empty, Twitter and Instagram were farfetched. It was like he didn’t exist. You even unblocked your father on facebook to stalk his friends and see if he existed there, but nothing. He was a ghost.

You got frustrated after a while, sitting back angrily in your chair, realizing you had three voicemails. Yikes, you were not very good at this job.

You finished all your work quickly, hoping it would distract you from him.

They spent the next two hours locked away in your fathers office, leaving you to wilt away in boredom. It only took about 30 minutes to catch up on calls and emails, and then all you could do was scroll aimlessly on your phone hoping someone would bother you.

But everyone seemed very quiet here. Beyond the initial excitement of meeting you in the morning, everyone stayed at their desks all day, focused intently on their own work. It was one of the quietest offices you’d ever been in. Maybe they were just trying to show off on your first day, or trying not to bother you… but it was odd.

At 4:15, your father loudly exited his office, Bucky following behind. He was smiling, something you hadn’t seen before. It was almost god-like, his perfect smile, radiating warmth and happiness. You wanted to be close to him again, missing the sweet smell of his lips…

“(Y/N), I have a request…” your father interrupted your daydreaming, making you jump as you stood up to help him.

“What’s up?” You asked casually, refusing to take your eyes off Bucky.

“Bucky and I are grabbing dinner tonight, and we’d love for you to join us,” he said quickly, Bucky finally turning towards you and meeting your glance.

“You… want me to come?” You asked quietly, Bucky still staring at you. He smirked slightly as you spoke, but refused to break your gaze.

“Well, Bucky would really love to get to know my daughter. You know how… proud I am of you. The light of my life!” He said, smiling intensely at you. You finally looked away from Bucky and towards your father as he spoke.

It was disgusting, the way your father was obviously using a fake relationship with you to get in good with his clients and employees. But you would’ve done anything to see Bucky again. So you agreed reluctantly, wondering why a man like Bucky would care about his lawyer's daughter…

“We’re going to a nice place so… dress up,” your father instructed, eyeing your clothes. You had noticed you were the least dressed up at the office.

“Um… I don’t really have a nice dress…” you whispered quietly, wondering how “nice” you needed to dress…

Your father pulled out his wallet, handing you a thick black AmEx card.

“I’ll have my driver take you downtown to some shops. Get whatever you want,” he instructed, pushing the card in your hand.

You didn’t refuse, why would you? Free shopping spree and dinner with some hot mystery man sounded like your perfect day.

You spent the next few hours in and out of shops, spending more money than your father most likely anticipated. But you needed a new wardrobe anyways, most of your old clothes were too warm to wear here.

You picked out a gorgeous light blue silk dress and some strappy white heels to match. You were maybe a little ‘under’ dressed for dinner with your father, but all you could focus on was Bucky. You felt high whenever he crossed your mind, your body unable to focus on anything except the feel of his cool skin touching yours.

By the time you were done shopping, it was almost time to meet them at dinner. The driver promised to bring the rest of your bags home and drop you right off at the restaurant. It was all the way across town, and you’d most likely still be late even if you left now. So you hopped in the car quickly, your new outfit looking perfect.

The drive to the restaurant took just as long as the driver said it would- maybe even longer. You were getting impatient as the time went by, wondering if he was thinking about you the way you were thinking of him.

It was unlikely. You still weren’t sure who exactly he was, but you knew he didn’t spend his time with ordinary girls.

But why did he want you to come to dinner? It was odd of him to take such an interest in you. None of your fathers other clients seemed to look twice in your direction. But then again, Bucky was the only one that required privacy.

As you got lost in your thoughts, your mind tumbling through expectations and excitement, your driver pulled swiftly up to the front entrance of Paterro’s.

Upon walking through the doors, you were taken aback by the overwhelming fanciness of this restaurant. Your father definitely undersold how nice it was. You felt slightly underdressed, but no one seemed to look twice at you. You were used to not turning heads, being able to walk through a crowd without notice.

That changed when you got to your table. Your father wasn’t there, most likely in the bathroom or at the bar. It was just him, looking just as beautiful as you pictured he would.

He wore a navy blue suit that hugged his skin tightly and left very little of his body up for imagination. As you walked towards him, his head lifted from the table and his eyes lingered towards your body. He gave you a soft smile, but he was obviously distracted by how much of you he was seeing.

“Your… Henry ran to grab a few cigars for later…” he mumbled, standing up awkwardly and pulling out a chair for you.

“Thank you…” you whispered, sitting shakily down in the chair as he pushed you in towards the table.

You were in between Bucky and your father’s seat, but much closer to Bucky. Your father came back less than 30 seconds later, which was ideal, since you couldn’t think of a single word to say to Bucky.

Your father greeted you kindly, a wide smile that read as ‘You better be good tonight.’ It clearly wasn’t normal for him to have guests attend his business dinners. He seemed just as put off as you did, but the two of you kept your thoughts to yourselves and made small talk.

“This is one of my favorite restaurants, (Y/N),” your father smiled, handing you a menu to you.

“I’m excited to be here. Thank you for having me,” you responded kindly.

Bucky and your father started talking about business, leaving you to your own thoughts as you scoured the menu. The prices were insane, but obviously you weren’t footing the bill. You had half a mind to order the most expensive thing on the menu, for the hell of it, but you settled on a nice glass of red wine and pasta.

You weren’t included in much of the conversation, wondering why exactly you were invited in the first place. It seemed that the two of them barely even knew you were there. You sipped at your wine angrily, wondering how you could get Bucky’s attention.

It was then when you decided to make one of the riskiest decisions of your entire life. But, high risk, high reward, right?

Bucky cracked a joke with your father, and you laughed loudly and girlishly, forcing him to draw his eyes towards you. You then gently placed your hand on his knee, dragging your fingertips on his thigh lightly as you smiled at him. For a second, you forgot your father was even there, lost in the delight of finally having your hands on Bucky.

But you quickly drew your hand back, afraid of how far you’d go if you didn’t stop. Luckily your father didn’t seem to notice, or care. But Bucky did.

In fact, he was glaring at you. His fists were clenched on the table, his breath shaky and his stared. His face started to relax and he looked away, a slight smirk on his face as he grabbed his drink and gulped it.

“I have to run and make a quick phone call,” Bucky said abruptly, not waiting for a response before leaving the table.

You turned awkwardly to your father, not sure what to say to him at this moment. Thankful for you, he clearly felt the same, and buried himself in his phone. That was the nice thing about your father, he never forced you to talk.

Bucky was back quicker than you’d expected, looking relieved as he sat down.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, clearing his throat. “Where were we?”

The three of you started chatting again, a feat that only lasted about five minutes, before another interruption. Your father’s phone started ringing loudly, much to your embarrassment.

“One sec,” he whispered, jumping out of his chair and answering in a rush.

Your heart dropped as you realized you were alone with him for the first time. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him after you nearly groped him under the table. You felt a lump in your throat as you stared intently at your fathers empty chair.

“Do you wanna talk about what the hell you’re doing?” Bucky growled at you, making you finally turn your head and face him head on.

“I don’t know what you mean…” you whispered innocently.

“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m not gonna fall for your sweet girl act. Your father might, but I see right through it…” He snickered, taking a large sip from his third drink of the evening.

“I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you, James.” You could see him cringe at the sound of that name. You couldn’t help but to get under his skin. Something about him so angry made it hotter.

“Listen, if you wanna fuck me, just say it. I’m not here for all these little games.”

“You truly think every girl in the entire universe wants to have sex with you? Seems like somebody has a little ego problem,” you retorted, rolling your eyes and looking away.

“Oh, baby,” he laughed, touching your cheek lightly with his thumb. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t get under this table and suck my cock if you could?”

The thought of your mouth around him made you quiver, which was very evident to Bucky. He laughed coyly, before tightly gripping your chin. He brushed his thumb lightly over your lips, your body aching at his touch.

He dropped his hand quickly as your father approached the table, looking distraught.

“I’m so sorry guys... My client just called, major emergency. I’m gonna have to run… Bucky, can you make sure (Y/N) get’s home safe? I’m gonna have to take my car…”

Bucky chuckled quietly and nodded at your father, enjoying the obvious win.

“I’ll take good care of her, man.”

Your father thanked Bucky, throwing his credit card to you for dinner and running off in a hurry. You felt sick to your stomach, all the red wine dancing around in your body. You felt Bucky’s hand on your thigh, rubbing circles on your skin.

“You ready to go?” He winked, tilting his head for an answer. You could only nod, unable to think of any words to say.

Bucky tossed three one-hundred dollar bills down on the table, taking them from a large wad of cash hidden in his jacket. You felt dizzy at the sight of all the money, wondering where it could possibly be coming from.

The valet pulled Bucky’s car around, which was obviously something beautiful and fancy and nauseatingly expensive. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you up into the seat. He leaned towards you after you were sitting, pulling your face to his. He kissed you intensely, not giving you a second to think, or breathe. You melted into him, allowing his body to do whatever he wanted.

But he quickly broke away, closing the door and getting in the driver seat. He didn’t speak to you the rest of the ride, just casually glancing in your direction every few minutes. You wondered if you should tell him where you lived, or if he already knew. But you quickly realized you weren’t going home.

You pulled up to a large white house on the beach. The gates opened promptly as you arrived. They closed quickly behind you, making you finally realize the intensity of the situation. You were here now, locked inside, with a complete stranger. A very, very hot stranger.

Bucky opened the door for you, clearly picking up your awe at the size of the house.

“I’m just renting it. I don’t usually stay in one place too long…” he explained, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“What exactly do you do?” You asked, instantly regretting it as you noticed the distaste in his voice.

“You don’t need to know that, yet,” he snapped, emphasizing the word ‘yet’. What the hell did that mean?

He ushered you through the front door, offering you a glass of wine as you entered. You accepted happily, staring at his wide wine collection that was much nicer than the box sitting in your fridge.

You sat down on his couch, sinking into the soft cushions, realizing just then how tipsy you were. As he walked back towards you with your drinks, you felt a wave of excitement and spontaneity wash over you. Fuck wine, man. The worst and horniest decisions you ever made were because of wine.

Bucky set your drinks done and you didn’t waste any time. You jumped up towards him, pushing your lips onto his and dragging your hands down his body. He didn’t fight you, unbuckling his pants quickly. He began kissing your neck, pulling down the straps of your dress. You hadn’t worn a bra, giving his lips easy access to your breasts. He sucked your nipples lightly, grazing his teeth.

You pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a perfectly sculpted body that at this point, you had expected. You brought your hand down to his dick, already hard and poking out through his boxers. You pushed him off of you as you got down to your knees, removing his boxers and taking his length into your mouth.

You flicked your tongue across his tip, making him shake under you. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself deeper into you, hitting the back of your throat. He moved in and out of your mouth, his hand holding your hair out of the way.

Finally he pulled out of your mouth, beckoning you to stand up. You did as you were told, getting off your knees and following him to the catch. He sat down and dragged you onto his lap, feeling his cock under you. He kissed you for a while, but you never got bored. You could’ve kissed him forever.

But you felt him twitching beneath you, begging to be inside. You positioned him to your opening and slid down gently, adjusting to his size. He moaned slightly, throwing his head back as he went in.

“Don’t move for a second…” he commanded, sitting up and taking your face. He was inside of you, not moving, just holding you.

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” he whispered, the scotch spilling from his breath. He didn’t give you time to respond before he grabbed your hips and began to rock you on him.

You let him move you for a few minutes before you started moving yourself. You felt the overwhelming rush of pleasure take over as you got close to cumming, speeding up your motions.

“Shit…” you squealed, riding out your high as he kissed your neck.

“Keep going… I wanna cum inside you…” He whispered into your ear, his lips tickling your jaw.

You kept grinding your hips, moving faster as he got closer. He gripped onto your hips, digging his nails into your skin as you felt him twitch. You felt him fill you up with warmth, claiming you as his in that moment. The ultimate trophy of male dominance.

You felt sick to your stomach after you got off, feeling him drip down your thighs as you rolled to the other side of the couch. The fun of the wine had worn off into an annoying headache, and you were dreadfully thirsty.

For some reason, you wondered if you had dreamed the whole thing, before you looked over and saw a naked Bucky, staring blissfully at you.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked, kindly.

“Water.”

He smiled graciously, standing up and putting his boxers on. He walked down a hallway, presumably to the kitchen, and your fight or flight kicked in. You quickly grabbed your shoes and bag, bolting out the front door, unable to face him.

You were greeted by the fresh air, happy to be back in the realm of normalcy. And then you remembered. The gate.

“Fuck…” you exclaimed, dropping your shoes on the pavement.

“I’ll take you home.” You heard, seeing an uncomfortable Bucky standing in the doorway.

You got back in his car, staying uncomfortably silent as he started the engine and opened the gate.

“Do you regret it?” He asked. His voice snapped through the quiet like a whip. It made you jump.

“No. I don’t.” You answered. It was the truth.

“Good. We’ll talk soon, then.”

He dropped you off without another word, and you realized you never actually gave him your address.

Who the hell was James Barnes?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes

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bokutoslittlebird · 3 years

Text

Indebted

Day 8 of Matsuhana week: Yakuza

Summary: Left with his father’s debts, Hanamaki decides to not pay back the dangerous Yakuza boss until he’s on his knees before the man himself.

Warnings: mafia/yakuza business, threatening letters (not into much detail), minor character death (by cancer), tranquilizer gun, kidnapping, age gap, fingering, Virgin!Hanamaki, bit of corruption kink, lube, no condom, creampie

“Why does he have so much junk?” He groans, looking through another box. “Who’d have known the old man had so much stuff to hide?”

Hanamaki was digging through his ill father’s belongings. His mother was currently at the hospital while the nurses caught her up on the situation, but it wasn’t looking good. The cancer had spread to his brain, signaling his end was near. His mother, however, decided to dig into their limited money supply to see if it could be fixed, leaving them with same amount of money before his father got that new job about 10 years ago. So, Hanamaki thought he could sell some items to get extra cash.

Oh, he wasn’t planning on sharing it.

His mother had taken plenty of money he could have used for college, as well as moving out. Even now, she refused to see that her husband was a lost cause and keep the money to use on her son, but no. She’ll get all the life insurance money, as well, so it’s not like she’s in desperate need of cash. Hanamaki, on the other hand, could barely eat and make ends meet when he worked at a nearby pizza restaurant. The answer, and his reasonings, were clear.

Digging through a box he found under the bed, Hanamaki’s face changes drastically as he opens the box to find money. Wads of paper bills that could set him up for the next year, honestly. However, as he takes the money, he finds a note underneath it. Curious as ever, he decides to read it.

“50,000 yen for the Boss” is all it reads, making him tilt his head. However, more digging through the box makes him realize his dad was not just hoarding money, but rather keeping the money and giving it to this.. Boss guy. A part of Hanamaki told him it was bad news, but the other part of him needed money.

Pocketing the cash and grabbing any antiques, he left the room and never looked back.

Three days later, a proper ceremony was in place for Hanamaki’s father, who finally succumbed to the cancer eating him and left behind a widow and a son. Hanamaki’s mother was incessant on a proper burial, despite the money necessary for it. Condolence money would be given, but that money was hardly enough for someone to have a proper ceremony. Hanamaki may have spent most of his time picking bones and putting them in the urn, but he wasn’t going with his mother and uncle to the family grave, instead going back to his car.

A cheap, old car that needed a lot of money to be back into good working order, but Hanamaki liked how reliable it was. It may creak and sigh and he can’t go too fast, but he’s always to work on time and never wastes money sprucing it up. Getting to the car, however, Hanamaki saw something under his wiper. A note, most likely.

“Who-“ he sputtered, looking around the empty parking lot. He wasn’t parked illegally, nor was he in a special spot, so he wonders who left it. Reading it made him wish he didn’t.

“To the young Hanamaki Takahiro, in the wake of your father’s passing, you are to take on full responsibility and pay back his accumulated debt. Sincerely, Seijoh Family.”

Hanamaki was no idiot. He may have been able to forget about the notes and letters and the money, but he couldn’t as his eyes ran over the inked words. The Seijoh Family was a yakuza family that was well known for helping those down on their luck, as long as you could pay them back when your luck turned around. It suddenly made sense.

The lack of money and his always empty stomach, the fighting between his parents, all of it suddenly changed within a couple of days with a new promotion. Hanamaki went from eating small quantities to large ones, his house went from a small one to a nice and big one. Everything got better, but then everything got worse. It was more of a middle ground, honestly, but he could feel it slipping. His father had gotten everything he wanted and then suddenly, he needed to pay back the money he was loaned. And now, with his cremated remains in an urn, Hanamaki would be taking up his father’s debts.

Although the message scares Hanamaki, he can’t afford to let it control him. He has to go back to work and prepare for college classes soon. He can’t be worried about some creepy guy planning to kill him because he’s struggling. Even as he tells himself that, the next couple of days has him putting tips into a jar in his kitchen, sliding it under the sink and out of his sight. The money he took from his father was 10x what he makes in a week, making him worried that he’ll never be able to pay back the sum of debt.

With the dread of something bad about to happen, Hanamaki decides to push the thought away, hoping a gooey cheeseburger and soda can take the feeling away. With his dinner, a movie will be enough to take his mind off of everything. As soon as he sits down, though, he gets a wiggling doorknob. Hoping it’s someone trying to get into the wrong apartment, he waits for it to stop. When it does, he relaxes once more, only to then fly out of his seat when two people walk through the door.

They’re big, despite Hanamaki having some muscle on him. Big and dressed in dark clothing, wearing protective layers on their face so he can’t get a proper look at them. He’s quick enough to try to get away, hopping over the couch to reach the balcony when one of the guys shoots him with something. Face planting on the floor in front of the window, the last thing Hanamaki sees is the guy pull out a cell phone.

When Hanamaki comes to, the first thing he notices is the hushed whispers and he’s draped over something — or someone. His arms feel like jelly, but his eyes slowly open to reveal a corridor, dimly lit as the same two guys, he thinks, walking behind him. He’s momentarily startled awake by them, but he realizes he soon has other worries when he notices he’s entered a big room, the door shutting loudly behind him.

“Is this the one?”

“Yes sir,” one of them answers. Hanamaki is then placed down on his knees in front of the other person in the room. A glance is all Hanamaki is blessed with before his head is shoved down, almost into the floor by the guy behind him. “Head down,” he sternly says.

“Now, now. We mustn’t hurt him too badly. How else will I get my money back?” The man says, the chair underneath him creaking as he leans forward. With his head no longer forced down, Hanamaki takes another chance to look up at the man before him. Clad in black slacks and sleek shoes, Hanamaki has an easy time figuring out just who’s in front of him. The ironed white shirt had a few buttons loose, sleeves rolled to his elbows, showing enough muscles to know force was a valid option. The man himself had a smirk that made it seem as though he was playing a game with Hanamaki, further proved when his hand grabbed Hanamaki’s chin and let him get a better look. “You’re quite young, aren’t you? College age, perhaps?”

“How did-“ Hanamaki sputters, only to stop when his smirk drops. “Sir?”

“Matsukawa Issei. I’m sure you’re aware of your father’s debts, which are now your responsibility. However, I can’t see how I’d benefit from someone struggling to make ends meet. I may be cruel, but I’m also fair. If you can’t work and live comfortably, I can’t get all my money back. Do you see my dilemma?”

“You could, I don’t know, let me go?” Hanamaki suggests, raising an eyebrow. He mentally takes a point when Matsukawa’s lips tilt into a smile.

“You’re funny, but I can’t do that,” he sighs, smile dropping. His eyes then turn to the goons in the room. “Get out. I’ll discuss things in private,” he orders, each subordinate leaving. Once gone, he sighs once more as he moves over to his desk, pressing a button as shades cover the windows and the room is pitched into darkness. When the desk lamp and floor lamp near the couch turn on, Hanamaki finally gets a better look at the room.

Despite being shoved to his knees before Matsukawa as if he was placed on a throne, the room looks similar to a study. With Matsukawa leaning against a dark mahogany desk, large and almost empty aside from an old looking phone and a control board, the only thing left in the room are pictures on the wall and the spacious couch. The pillows looked so comfortable and much more expensive than the cheap couch he owns. Once Hanamaki had finished looking around, he straightened his back a bit more and looked at Matsukawa, wondering just what was going to happen.

“What’s next, then? You can’t kill me because then you don’t get money, but you also can’t just let me go because I can’t pay you back like my old man did, so we’re in limbo,” he breaks the silence first, eyes scanning Matsukawa for any instance of movement.

“You’ll still be paying me back, of course. I can’t lend you any money because of your father’s debts, sadly. Although, I’m sure you’d not want to be in his same shoes. You know what, I like you, so I’ll give you some options,” he begins walking closer to Hanamaki, making adrenaline kick in. He may not seem threatening, but he has an entire building full of people at his fingertips. As he circles Hanamaki, he continues talking. “Option one, you pay me back at your leisure. I’ll even help you a bit, of course making you pay back more, but you’re not on a time limit like everyone else. Option two, I take the money I can from you and your mother, who currently sits on your father’s life insurance money, and leave you with just enough to scrape by. Option three,” he stops, kneeling in front of a currently exhausted Hanamaki, taking his chin between his fingers until they’re eye to eye, “you let me blow off some steam and your debt will be down 10 times it’s original amount. So you don’t have to do the math, that means instead of roughly 50 million yen, you’ll be paying only 5 million. It’s quite a lot, I’ll admit, but it’s much better than what you have to pay.”

“What’s.. what does blowing off steam count as, exactly? Letting you hit me every time you get angry or something?”

“No, as in you let me use your body as I see fit. I could hit you, but I have other ideas in mind,” he says, smiling as Hanamaki’s face darkens when the gears start moving. “You can decline, of course, but that’s a lot of money. Not to mention, you’re still gonna have to pay rent and buy groceries, you may die before paying off the debt. Like I said—“

“I’ll do it,” Hanamaki interjects, relaxing his shoulders but still sitting up straight. “Despite the cliché of me paying with my body, it’s really not the worst thing in the world. I’d prefer it over you hitting me, as well,”

“The deal has been made and that means from this moment on, you and your body will belong to me,” Matsukawa says, then moves behind Hanamaki. “I’ve the perfect spot for you to lie, as well,” he practically purrs in Hanamaki’s ear, nudging him up and forward. To the desk.

“Kinda expected the couch, but it’s better than the floor,” Hanamaki chuckles, only to then gasp as cool metal slides against his skin. It’s a knife, he’s sure of it, but as soon as it’s there, it’s gone again and his bound wrists are free. Completely focused on his surroundings, Hanamaki forgot about his bound wrists until suddenly they were no longer forced behind his back. Once free, Matsukawa spins him around traps him against the desk, his hand once more cupping his chin.

“You’re a cute one. Ever kissed someone?”

“When I was 10. Some girl was dared to kiss me, but not recently,” Hanamaki breathlessly whispers, eyes drawn to Matsukawa’s lips when they’re so close. Feeling his breath ghost over his lips has him wishing for things to move a bit faster, but Matsukawa won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Some dare to kiss you hardly counts. I meant a real one,” he says in response, but doesn’t encourage a reply when his lips press against Hanamaki’s, tilting his head as his hand moves to the back of Hanamaki’s head while his other hand slips beneath the cardigan and oversized t-shirt, feeling warm skin. With his lips melding against Hanamaki’s, he finds his fingers running through pink strands as the other slips into jeans and further down, making Hanamaki tense. A swipe over the bottom lip with his tongue and Matsukawa pulls away, licking away the small strand of saliva keeping them tethered. “Like that?”

Although Matsukawa was referring to his previous sentence, Hanamaki shakily sighed as he nodded, “I did,” making Matsukawa chuckle a bit. Removing his hand from Hanamaki’s hair and jeans, Matsukawa places him on the desk. “Pretty empty for a big desk. You usually take people’s virginities on desks?” Hanamaki jokes, hoping to lighten the heavy mood, obviously unfamiliar with such serious situations.

“Virginities?” Matsukawa asks, his hands stopping at Hanamaki’s thighs before squeezing as he smiles. “I’ve never gotten the opportunity to take someone’s virginity, actually. Only taken those who thought sleeping with me would save their skin. It didn’t, but that was because it was always their idea. You, on the other hand,” he says, hands once more moving to slide under Hanamaki’s t-shirt, “are in a one of a kind situation. I’ll make sure to treat you kindly.”

“Um, small request, if I may,” Hanamaki says, hands moving from Matsukawa’s shoulders to his hands, stopping them from sliding off his clothes. “Can I keep on my shirt? I don’t feel quite comfortable being so.. vulnerable. I understand if—“

“Granted,” Matsukawa cuts him off, hands still sliding against his skin but not aiming to strip him of his clothes. After all, the main focus isn’t making Hanamaki uncomfortable but rather to send him through throes of pleasure. Hands move down, curling around the hem of his jeans as Matsukawa presses his lips to Hanamaki’s jaw and neck, making the younger man sigh in bliss. When his pants are taken off, Hanamaki flushes as Matsukawa’s fingers then gently pry off his boxers. The simple act of sliding them down his legs is made more sensual as Matsukawa kisses down his body, only to stop at his hard cock. “Excited, are we?”

“Well, you’re very good at this,” he quips back, turning his head. Instead of huffing and puffing, Hanamaki soon finds himself biting his finger when Matsukawa’s tongue slides against his cock. “I didn’t think—“

“I’m quite familiar when it comes to pleasure. Sit back and relax,” Matsukawa says, wrapping his lips around Hanamaki’s cock before putting it all in his mouth. The ease of which he takes all of Hanamaki doesn’t go unnoticed, but he’s not bothered by it as much while his hands massage the meat on Hanamaki’s thighs. Hanamaki is more bothered by it, seeing as he lets out soft moans while his teeth bite on one hand and his other curls into Matsukawa’s hair. Whines come from him as his back arches, feeling Matsukawa’s tongue lap at the side of his cock, only to then take him all back into his mouth.

While Hanamaki is busy moaning and trying to not finish so quickly, Matsukawa digs into his drawer and takes out a large bottle of lube. Its top is easy to remove without needing to see, Matsukawa slipping a couple of fingers into the cool liquid before rubbing those fingers against Hanamaki’s puckered hole. The cool sensation has Hanamaki gasping, hand moving from his mouth to grasp at the edge of the desk while his other tightens it’s hold on Matsukawa’s hair. With some more lube applied, Matsukawa slides in one of his fingers while his tongue swirls around Hanamaki’s tip. The sensations all together has Hanamaki seeing stars, a sweet mewl as he finally finishes, right into Matsukawa’s mouth.

Through his pants, Hanamaki manages to give a small apology to Matsukawa, who wipes some excess cum off his lips before licking it, locking eyes with Hanamaki as he does. He also doesn’t stop fingering Hanamaki, moving his finger in and out of him while he continues to whine from the sensations. Taking his finger out, Matsukawa applies some more lube to his fingers and pushes in two at the same time, soon adding three while Hanamaki gasps and moans, hands latching onto Matsukawa’s covered shoulders.

Once Matsukawa has deemed him ready enough, Hanamaki feels his fingers leaving while he craves more. Wiping off his fingers with a nearby handkerchief, Matsukawa then finally unbuttons his shirt and tosses it to the side, letting Hanamaki see all the muscles underneath. Despite not seeming very strong, Matsukawa had plenty of defined muscles that flexed as he stripped himself of his shirt, as well as moving to unbuckle his belt and unzip himself. Hanamaki couldn’t wait to feel those muscles under his own fingertips.

Once free of his boxers, Matsukawa applies a generous amount of lube to his cock while Hanamaki practically trembles with excitement. The sheer size of Matsukawa makes him wonder if it’ll actually fit, seeing as three fingers can’t compare to the size, but he’s always been up for a challenge. As Matsukawa lines himself up, he takes Hanamaki’s chin in his fingers one last time. “I want you to look at me while I corrupt you. Can you do that for me, Hiro?”

With such an affectionate name, Hanamaki is blushing while nodding his head, completely transfixed on Matsukawa as he slides his cock in. It’s painful, the lube only helping to ease the pain a bit and Hanamaki screws his eyes shut for a moment, only to reopen them as the grip on his chin gets tighter. “I said eyes on me,” Matsukawa practically growled, eyes darkened as he focused his eyes on him once more. Hanamaki doesn’t dare break the eye contact again, even as he desperately wants to throw his head back or roll his eyes back when Matsukawa finally bottoms out. Stretched beyond his limits, Hanamaki is finally able to lay back on the desk when Matsukawa gives him a kiss, short and sweet, letting his face go afterwards. “How do you feel?”

“Full,” Hanamaki honestly says, moving his hips a bit as he softly mewls, “very full.”

“Good enough for me,” Matsukawa says, rearing his hips back before slamming into Hanamaki. He practically yelps from the force of Matsukawa’s thrust, his ass jiggling from the impact. His reaction pleases Matsukawa who simply keeps up the force behind each thrusts, hands planted on either side of Hanamaki as he looks down at the man, enjoying each facial expression that comes across his face. Hanamaki reaches up to grab Matsukawa, bringing him closer as his blunt nails dig into his defined back. Matsukawa groans at the feeling of Hanamaki trying to mark him up, pressing his lips to his neck while his hips never stutter. One of his hands move down to lift up Hanamaki’s leg, holding his leg in the crook of his elbow as it dangles behind him. The adjusted position has him hitting deeper inside and rubbing against Hanamaki’s prostate with each thrust. Sucking a hickey onto his skin, Matsukawa feels Hanamaki tremble under him as warm liquid coats the front of his chest.

Matsukawa slows down his thrusts while Hanamaki finishes his second orgasm, cock bouncing as it gushes out the last bit of cum. Hanamaki looks exhausted, but Matsukawa isn’t quite done. Removing himself has Hanamaki confused, only for a moment, before he’s picking him up and swiftly placing him in his lap, back on his cock. “You’re still so fucking hard,” Hanamaki whines, feeling Matsukawa’s cock rubbing against his prostate again.

“Well, I’ve been told I have quite the stamina. I’ll let you take a break once I’ve had my own release, how about that?” Matsukawa says, although his silky words are mixed with soft pants, using up some of his energy to fuck. Matsukawa spreads Hanamaki’s legs, his hands trailing up thick thighs until he’s able to get a good grip, having Hanamaki bounce on his lap. Hanamaki tries to help, positioning his hands on the arms of the chair to stabilize himself, but soon finds his arms are too weak to hold up even half of his weight. Matsukawa does all the work while Hanamaki brushes his fingers through his hair, almost encouraging Matsukawa’s lips to press against the other side of his neck, adorning the skin with kisses and hickeys.

When Matsukawa’s thrusts start to get weak, he stops moving Hanamaki and groans, getting up from the chair without disconnecting him and Hanamaki. Bending Hanamaki over the desk, they’re both finishing together as Matsukawa rubs Hanamaki’s hardened cock with his hand. Hanamaki moans as he feels Matsukawa fill him up with his seed, only to give an open-mouthed moan when he feels him leave, his winking hole gushing with seed spent.

Hanamaki sees Matsukawa zip himself up and put on his shirt, thinking he’ll have to clean himself up. However, he’s pleasantly surprised when Matsukawa’s hand is gently pushed against his back while a warm and wet towel is cleaning up his mess. “I think I was a bit too harsh on you, sorry,” Matsukawa finally says, breaking the silence as he finishes cleaning up everything. Hanamaki doesn’t respond very well, his mind too hazy and body too numb to really process what’s going on. “Hanamaki, hello?” Is the last thing he hears before he shuts his eyes for the rest of the night.

#haikyuu smut #matsuhana smut #matsuhana #BB.Kinky #BB.Tweets #Mr. Issei #Mr. Takahiro #Hanamaki.Spice #Matsukawa.Spice #tw.guns #tw.yakuza #tw.violence #tw.death #tw.mafia

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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

Text

Poly sea three x reader - oneshot - Lonely

*as i finished this i realized this has no dialogue...which is kinda cool i’ve never written a no dialogue fic, so enjoy!* ((y/n) is Jack Sparrows kid btw if you couldn't guess from the compass on the moodboard)

After Uma left, her life was harder…harder than it was before. Uma was the rock of the crew, always there, always steady, and ready to command the lot at a moment's notice. The crew saw a polished rock, hard and smooth, shining like the stars in the galaxy.

Only three people in the crew saw the rough edges. Uma only trusted three people to see behind the polished glaze, exposing the rocky terrain within her. On nights where it had just been too much stress at the chip shop, she would retreat to one of three rooms, sometimes even gathering all of them to be in her room so she could just relax with her favorite people.

Her head rested on her first mate's chest, his solid heartbeat and even breathing lulling her to sleep, her body tangled with her war chief, arms wrapped around each other like snakes and thumb gently rubbing her back. Her legs coiled around her second mate, his hands pressed against her calf and thigh, always letting her know he was there.

Uma didn’t know how much she relied on them until she couldn't get back behind the barrier, eyes wide with helplessness as she called out for them on the other side, Harry when he would nab some fish from an unsuspecting fisherman, (y/n) when they sat on the docks, carving whatever they felt like into their dagger, Gil when he was skipping rocks.

They never heard her, and she didn’t try again as she watched them walk around on the deck of her ship.

She missed them, she realized that almost as soon as she hit the water outside the barrier, stopping for a moment to look back, watching as the barrier closed and she was separated from her friends.

Sometimes, she would see things that reminded her of them, the scarlet ribbon of a disregarded dress, a sparrow flying above her, a broken arrowhead at the bottom of the sea.

Uma just wanted to be with them again, her heart ached every night she went on without the sound of Harry's heart, the feeling of (y/n)s hands gently scratching at her back, the feeling of Gil's hands gently massaging her legs. She realized she loved them, all three of them, the longer she was away from them.

She missed them all, so much.

And she hoped that they missed her too.

After Uma left, the isle was harder…harder than it was before. Uma was the rock of the crew, always there, always steady, and ready to command the lot of you at a moment's notice. The crew saw a polished rock, hard and smooth, shining like the stars in the galaxy.

Only three people in the crew saw the rough edges. Uma only trusted three people to see behind the polished glaze, exposing the rocky terrain within her. And she saw the inner workings of them behind closed doors, rusty cogs and scratched glass resting before her eyes.

Harry got more…twitchy, after Uma left, his usual controlled rage that used to bubble beneath his skin bursting out more often, scaring the crew sometimes, but never you and Gil. you both knew he’d never hurt either of you, he’d throw himself off the edge of the world before he even thought about doing so.

Harry was just so angry that Uma was gone, stuck on the other side of the barrier, he had no doubt she didn’t abandon any of you but that didn’t stop him from screaming and destroying the training dummies.

He shut himself away from everyone soon after the anger burned out, even Harriet hadn’t been able to convince him to unlock his door. It had taken almost a month for him to let you and Gil inside, and he looked awful, his skin was pale and his nose and cheeks were red, his eyes puffy and dull. The only reason he wasn’t skinny was thanks to you and Gil leaving trays full of food in front of his door at mealtimes, and leaving it there for him to grab it.

During those months of anger and depression, you and Gil took over the crew, you ascended into the role of captain, being the most knowledgeable about the position thanks to your lineage and Gil becoming first mate, all temporary until Harry recovered and Uma returned.

Though once Harry started to slowly return to his “normal” self, he didn’t care to try to take back his role as the first mate or become the captain as his first mate duties proclaimed, that alone told you and Gil and something was still wrong with Harry.

One night you and Gil dragged Harry into Uma’s empty quarters, and just laid in her bed in a tangle of limbs, Gil laying between Harry's legs with his head on Harry’s stomach, while Harry curled up into your chest, hands clutching onto your shirt. That night was one of the few times you saw Harry cry, choked sobs ripping from his throat as he attempted to muffle them in your neck.

You and Gil let your feelings out that night as well, assuring Harry that he wasn’t alone in missing Uma, you all did. So.damn.much.

Harry had always been in love with Uma, never afraid to show it, but that night you and Gil finally proclaimed the same after years of hiding your feelings in fear they would be used against you. And you loved each other too, it was hard to deny, not after revealing your feelings for Uma.

You all vowed that when Uma returned you would shower her in the love that you had all been deprived of for many years.

It was over a year later before you saw her again, Gil and Harry had jumped out of the barrier behind Mal and her goons plus Celia, Harry knocking the blue gem out of Mal's hand.

Your breath escaped you when a turquoise tentacle caught it, and Uma, looking more beautiful than you remembered, emerged from the water, dressed in an altered version of her turquoise cotillion dress, the sweetheart neckline showing off her glowing shell necklace.

Uma and your boys reunited, but she didn’t look at you, probably because you were back behind the tunnel and she couldn’t see you through the barrier and the darkness of the tunnel. But that was fine, you could wait just a bit longer before you looked her in the eyes again.

You would wait a thousand years for her.

But you wouldn’t have to wait that long, the next morning you awoke to the crew loudly celebrating, cheers and chaos echoing through the halls of the ship from the main deck.

You slipped out of bed, quickly changing into your gear and racing up to the main deck, unable to keep the smile of your lips as you saw Uma, who continued to glow with an echo of her magic, being lifted by the crew, all cheering and celebrating her return.

Her eyes locked onto yours, and as the crew set her down on her feet, you walked toward her, taking off your tri-corn hat and kneeling in front of her. You said her name like a prayer to the gods, a whisper on your lips. Uma shivered at the tone, feeling something wash over her at your worship.

As she looked around at the crew, Harry and Gil standing only a few inches from her, not wanting to be far from her, she realized that while Auradon had everything one could want, riches, good food, magic.

It was nothing compared to the warmth she felt surrounded by her crew and the three people she loved with all her soul.

Uma grabbed your face as you stood up, biting back a smile at your confused look, and pressed a kiss to your lips, the crew around them exploding into cheers.

Uma pulled back from you, smirking at your dazed look as she spun around and grabbed Harry's jacket, pulling him down to her height for a kiss, laughing into it as he slumped into her and groaned. She pulled away one last time and turned to Gil, grinning at his ‘excited puppy’ look, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling as he picked her up by her waist to give her better access.

The crew celebrated and cheered, Bonnie handing Desiree a wad of cash when you and Harry kissed as Gil set Uma down and pulled the four of you into a hug, Uma pressing a kiss to his cheek as he did.

All was well again.

Uma wasn’t lonely anymore.

-end-

lowkey kinda proud of this one hehe, tell me what yall thought! this was originally going to be a under the sea kinda fic but it turned into them all missing Uma and Uma missing them and then they all reunited and kiss and just asaoishdahsda i couldn't help but do the fluff at the end

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @remembered-license

@random-thoughts-003 @imtryingthisout

@rintheemolion @thecaptainsgingersnap

@verboetoperee @jatp-rules-my-life

#disney descendants #harry hook x reader #sea three x reader #poly sea three #harry hook descendants #uma descendants #gil descendants #uma x reader #gil x reader #poly sea 3 x reader

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tamagoincident · 3 years

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To Lure a Bird

arthur morgan x reader

summary: The Van der Linde Gang plans to rob a train, too bad you hit it first. You, being the reasonable person you are, coerce rough-looking men to run a job with you in exchange for the stolen money, and everyone gets more than they bargained for.

chapter: 1/10

link: AO3

Chapter One - A Mutual Enemy

On the evening you first heard of the Van der Linde Gang’s presence in Valentine, you stood at the bar of Smithfield's Saloon disguised in men’s clothing. Not a typical Friday for you, as you tried not to make it a habit of sticking around places where reckless men became more reckless the further they disappeared into their cups. But years ago you’d helped the bartender, a giant man named Ernest, drum up enough money to pay off his debtors, and he held you in the highest of regards ever since. It was the only place you could drink without being disturbed. Ernest made sure of that.

“What’ll it be, the usual?” he winked at you, his large hands already reaching toward the whiskey.

You smiled and nodded.

“I have information you might want to hear,” he continued, pouring the liquor into a glass and sliding it towards you. You caught it easily.

“Oh?”

“There was a young lady here last night. Overheard her talkin’ to some fancy pants New Yorker who kept braggin’ ‘bout the luxury train he’ll be taking back to the North. She seemed awfully intrigued,” Ernest said. “And get this, it weren’t the only instance I’d seen her, neither. Few days ago she’d been traipsin’ around the outskirts of Valentine with a bunch of scary lookin’ out-of-towners.”

“Figure they’re planning on robbing the train?”

Ernest shrugged. “It’s easy pickin’. You know how naïve high society can be.”

Maybe easy enough for a one-person job, if done quickly and with care. You’d only robbed a train once with two people you used to run with. You didn’t run with them anymore. It hurt you to think of it.

You held up your glass for a refill and leaned forward, brimming with interest. “Tell me more about this train.”

—

The train tracks rattled underneath Arthur’s feet.

“Get movin’,” he said to Sean, pointing towards the trees hidden in the darkness. Arthur climbed atop the wagon they’d rode in on and placed in the middle of the tracks, which bore five hundred gallons of oil. He widened his stance for balance and pulled a bandana over his mouth and nose. “Here she comes.”

Arthur squinted against the blinding brightness of the incoming headlight, cocking his rifle as it approached. The train’s horn bellowed into the night.

It saw him. Good.

It came to a hissing and screeching halt. A uniformed man stormed out from the front cab. “What's goin' on here? What's—aw hell,” the engineer wailed, kicking the dirt underneath his feet. “Not again! Gettin’ real tired of this shit.” Behind him, a shadow of blurred movement. Charles, ready to strike him unconscious.

Arthur jumped off the wagon. “Hold it!” he yelled to Charles, who paused his assault and instead restrained the man with a pistol aimed at his head. “What d’you mean, ‘Not again?’”

“If y’all are trying to rob us, we’ve already been hit,” he wheezed.

“You’re bluffin’.”

“You and your boys are more than welcome to board and check. Reckon it’s a waste of time though.”

Arthur swore. “Let him go, Mr. S.”

Charles let go. The engineer stumbled forward, sputtering and coughing. In between heavy breaths he said, “Happened near the Heartlands. Strange feller in a mask robbed us blind and then pointed a shotgun at me, gruntin’ at me to start the engine or he’ll call for his gang to kill everyone on board.”

“Why in God’s name would he do that?” Arthur said.

“Beats me. But now that I think of it, he was probably expecting y’all. Here, he gave me this—” he moved to reach into his coat pocket, but ceased upon the chorus of rifles cocking. Sean and John had appeared to find what the holdup was.

“Don’t move a goddamn muscle,” Arthur growled. “Mr. S., if you could kindly grab whatever’s in that fool’s pocket.”

Charles complied, plucking out a wad of paper. He handed it to Sean, who read aloud:

Don’t want the loot, only your attention.

Have your lady informant go back to the saloon and talk to the bartender.

He’ll tell you where to find me.

Cause any trouble and you won’t see a cent.

Sean laughed bitterly, waving the note in the air. “Got us good, didn't he?”

“Give me that, you idiot.” Arthur snatched the note and tilted the lettering towards the train's headlight. “Goddamn it—”

A bullet whizzed by Arthur’s head. The engineer dove to the ground for safety.

“Get on your horses!” Arthur yelled to the gang and whistled. Once in the saddle, he spurred the horse on and rode hard into the trees, past the storm of bullets, and evaded capture.

He was the last to arrive back at camp, after making sure he hadn’t been followed. He passed Dutch’s closed tent and found Sean blackout drunk near the fire. John sat close by, clearly on the same trajectory as the Irishman, with the amount of empty beer bottles at his feet. Arthur cleared his throat. “Where’s Charles?”

John glanced up, eyes bleary and lined with red. In the firelight he looked small and exhausted. “Asleep.”

“You should be too.”

“Well, I ain’t,” John mumbled tipping the beer to his lips and draining it. He tossed the bottle aside with a crash.

“Need me to tuck you in Marston? How ‘bout a bedtime story?”

“Real funny, Arthur."

Arthur sat down across from John, allowing the sound of crickets and snuffling horses to fill the silence between them. When he spoke, his tone was softer. “Don’t think I’ve seen you this shaken. Not even when you was freezin’ your ass off after them wolves got to you.”

John’s gaze dropped to his lap. “I’m a bit rattled, s’all. I got a bad feelin’, Arthur.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you think the law showed up a little too fast?”

“Maybe,” Arthur said. “I’m more curious about the son-of-a-bitch who knew we was gonna rob that train.” He turned, pulling the note he’d stashed into his saddlebag and brandishing it.

“See? You’re worried too. S’not just me.”

“I’m not worried,” Arthur cast the notion aside. No use in admitting to being worried unless there was really something to lose sleep over, especially in front of John, who looked like he was fixing for an excuse to leave again. Arthur didn’t want to be the person to give him one. He would gladly take a bullet before he watched Abigail’s face twist back into sorrow and disappointment on account of John flying the coop.

“We gonna be okay, Arthur?” John asks.

“Can’t tell the future anymore than you can, Marston,” Arthur said, crumpling the note in his fist. “What we can do is find the bastard who pulled the wool over our eyes, and deal with the rest as it comes along. I’ll talk to Mary-Beth tomorrow. Ask her to go back up to the saloon.”

John watched as Arthur tossed the paper into the fire, the edges curling into black.

—

You waited across the tracks from the abandoned trading post in Roanoke Ridge, taking shelter behind a sturdy tree (you’d almost hid behind one crawling with poison ivy vines, what a sight that would have been). The instructions you’d given Ernest to pass on had been clear: Whoever is sent must be on time and arrive alone. You checked your pocket watch. Already a half hour late. Out of desperation you remained a few minutes longer. The sun was almost at its peak in the sky, and you were getting hot with your scarf obscuring the lower half of your face. You cursed yourself for wearing such bulky trousers and long sleeves.

In your mind, the heist had been preferable to wasting away in the heat. With a little theater and luck, you managed to rob the train heading north. You still couldn’t believe your good fortune. Keeping your voice low and husky, the passengers and engineer had mistaken you for some hardened outlaw. You’d threatened them with your non-existent gang that was supposedly trailing close behind. In reality, the only thing riding alongside the train was the horse you’d borrowed from Ernest.

You scanned the landscape with binoculars, on the precipice of calling it a day, when you saw a pair of figures ascend the hill behind the dilapidated structure. The taller of the two was wearing a fading grey shirt that you imagined was once white, which stretched across his broad shoulders. He staked a far contrast to the companion at his left, a leaner man with dark hair that extended past a deep scar on his cheek. Both looked tough and mean. Exactly the type of men you’d hoped for.

Though two against one, the odds weren’t good if things went south.

You dropped the binoculars and reached for your rifle. Steadying yourself, you squinted through the scope, drifting down the length of their bodies until their dusty leather boots came into view. You cocked the gun, exhaled, and took the shot, aiming inches away from them.

“Shit!”

“Thought I’d said to come alone,” you called out. “If one of you gentlemen doesn’t get going, the next two bullets will be right in the forehead.”

“Jesus Christ,” the dark-haired man yelped. “Is that a woman shooting at us?”

“Woman or not, doesn’t change the fact she’s got a goddamn rifle!” the other fired back. “Alright, miss, my friend here is gonna get on his horse and leave. Ain’t that right, Marston?”

“Rode all the way out here for nothin’,'' he complained loudly and whistled. When his horse came around, he placed his foot in the stirrups and swung his leg over the saddle. “If you ain’t back by sundown, I’ll come lookin’ for you, Arthur. Hear that, lady?”

Arthur waved a dismissive hand. You waited until the horse disappeared behind the hills before coming out from the brush. At this distance, you could discern more of his features. The first of which you noticed were bright blue eyes that writers and painters alike had mused over for centuries.

He directed them at you. “There,” he said. “Happy?”

You lowered your rifle. “We’re off to a poor start, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t want no trouble. Just didn’t know what we was walkin’ into,” he said, moving closer, hands up slightly as if to not appear threatening. “You were real vague in that note of yours.”

You reaffirmed your grip on your rifle. “That’s close enough,” you said. Any closer and he’d eclipse you, your neck within snapping distance of those strong hands.

“Then, how about you tell me how this is gonna go?”

In the days leading to this moment, you’d thought of the ways you were going to approach this. Never did you imagine getting this far. “Do you have any idea why I may have invited you here?”

“To gloat, perhaps? About beatin’ us to that train?”

An involuntary upward twitch at the corner of your mouth. “Not quite, sir. I value my time and yours, so I’ll keep it short. I need you.”

Arthur pointed to himself. “You... need me?”

“Yes, you.”

He dipped his head, obscuring whatever expression he was making beneath the brim of his hat. Rubbing his neck, Arthur said, “Can’t imagine why you’d need me, lady. Accountin’ for the fact you don’t even know me.”

“I’ll rephrase. It’s not you I need exactly, it’s somebody like you. And your friend, for that matter.” You paused. “I used to have partners, too. One is dead, the other is in need of rescue. She was kidnapped. I want to hire you to help get her back.”

“Why not go to the sheriff? Seems a hell of a lot easier than getting up to all this trouble.”

“The sheriff?” you scoffed. “You really think he’d risk himself and his men to help me save a working girl from outlaws? Most likely he’d look into my background, and then I’d be arrested before I could even blink.”

“So all we gotta do is save your friend from her kidnappers and what, you’ll pay us?”

“You’ll get the money from the train, and I’ll throw in seventy dollars on top of that,” you said.

“What’s the catch?”

“Pardon me?”

“The catch,” Arthur repeated. “Seems too easy.”

“Didn’t say it’d be easy. Are you familiar with the O’Driscoll Boys?”

A spark of recognition. He was, in fact, familiar. “Yeah, I heard of ‘em. Your friend Emma… them boys captured her?”

You nodded. “A former client of hers runs with that gang. He found us in a hotel room, shot Henry, and knocked me out. When I came to, Emma was gone, and I was alone.”

“Under ordinary circumstances, I’d be glad to help,” he said. “You see, there’s someone I’d need to run this by and he’s already got it out for their leader, Colm O’Driscoll. This’d be the perfect excuse for him to do something goddamn stupid.”

“Please. If you’re familiar with them, you can imagine how awful it must be for her. I’ll even give you half the money upfront,” you said, decocking your rifle and slipping it back over your shoulder by its leather strap.

“Can’t promise nothin’, but I’ll talk it over with some people tonight. Meet me at that saloon in two days, same time. If it goes in your favor, I’ll take you to see the man who makes all the decisions.”

“Are you going to make me wait again?” you asked.

“You’re the one asking for favors, miss.”

“I’m offering a job.”

Arthur’s lips set into a hard line. “A job that might get us into a world of trouble, adding fuel to a fire that’s been burnin’ for a long time now. Frankly, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

And because you didn’t want to push your luck, you fell silent. You watched him call for his horse and mount it.

“I’ll be on time,” he mumbled as an afterthought, and rode off in the direction he came.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 ao3 #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x y/n #reader insert #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan/reader #tlab

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kth1 · 4 years

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Cut Shot [MYG]

Cut Shot [Yoongi x Reader] ⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+| Boyfriend AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: Established relationship, explicit, oral (M/F), alcohol use, condom sex, massage oil, lovey-dovey-flirtations, hint of cute jealousy, etc ⟶ WC: 10k+ ⟶ Summary: He hates the water, he hates the heat, and he hates the Sun. Any form of physical activity is a big no-no, yet Min Yoongi will go out of his way to show that he loves you on your mini vacation. ⟶ Teaser: “Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.” ⟶ Beta Reader: None other that @shadowsremedy (thank you for doing this in a timely manner 🧡 you’re awesome!) ⟶ Author’s Note: This fic is apart of @jamaisjoons Summer Bucket List Collab. This is my very first collab I have been apart of and I am very happy to have been associated with this project!

The blistering sun beams from above, heat rising scorching hot off the sands. Seagulls squawking in the distance, some scavenging around for disposed food – or snatching some from the unattained.

Yoongi trudges along the beach, black Raybands sit on the bridge of his adorable button nose, a large sunhat, sandals, an excessive tropical theme button-up shirt, and obnoxiously colored swim trunks to set his attire. With each step he takes, his feet kick up sand behind him, a half empty beer in hand in a pink koozie snuggled around the bottle as he sips away at his delicious beverage, merrily.

He sees you ahead, prancing around on the beach volleyball courts with your pony-tail rung high and skin glistening in the light. Right beside those said courts is his destination – the row of canopy tents that provided him his only relief. Shade!

Groups of people huddle around the area, humans of all ages, shapes, color, and size. He secretly hopes the smaller children applied much more sunscreen than normally, especially how they’ve been in and out of the ocean’s water at least five times now. But who’s counting?

Yoongi trails himself back to your shared designated tent, plopping himself down on the double wide reclining lawn chair. Here, he gets a front row seat at your court and some relaxing shade. Feet up, cooler full of snackable food and drinks besides him, and the best view in town – you.

You, the outgoing bubbly beauty, are playing a fun pick-up game with the rest of your party along with a handful of locals. Volleyball is your game much like music is Yoongi’s muse. Even with several differences in interest, the two of you get along quite well emotionally.

Many times Yoongi catches you thanking Hoseok for introducing you to him, in all honesty that is the only way he would notice you. Yoongi prefers to stay in isolation, nose shoved deep in a music sheet or much too invested in staying in bed all day. Once in a while he will strike up a game of basketball with his friend group, but only on a good day.

At first Yoong was incredibly confused towards you. Why would you want to meet him? Who even were you and when or how did you guys ever run into another? Upon Hoseok’s persistent pleading, insisting that he ‘has a good feeling about the two of you’, Yoongi eventually agreed to meet up with this friend of Hoseok’s.

It was a small date, nothing fancy, just a warm afternoon coffee meet up in the middle of September. Yoongi sat with phone in hand, iced americano in the other, at the bar seats set up at the windowpane in the front of the store of the local café. He was so indulged at tapping away on his phone, he didn’t even register the presence of another standing right next to him. You found it utterly adorable how Yoongi nearly spat out his drink as he stood up to greet you properly, profusely apologizing for his behavior.

Yoongi admitted, he remained skeptical throughout the date, though he was completely intrigued by you. Not only were you attractive in his eyes, cute with a bit of a feisty bite, he admired the way you spoke. You had a hidden passion behind your words – you spoke with confidence, sometimes even assertive… and he liked that.

But, what he enjoyed most is how you would get lost in your words, ranting long sentences when you hadn’t realized you had said too much. Something about the way you talked perked his ears like a silent harp playing in the background of the world. What Yoongi noticed after that date was how you kept his attention the entire time. How it seemed that the two of you were vastly different in many ways, but he found something in you that reeled him in instantly. Before bidding goodbye after the cheap coffee date, he reached for your hand as he asked if you would like to do this again sometime.

Nine months later, he finds himself sitting court side to your beach volleyball game. On vacation with a few of his closest friends at a beach house along the coast. A quick getaway from home, promises of having some game nights and visiting a few touristy areas. The group was partially here to support you at your annual volleyball competition, but other than that they came to party.

“Got it!” you shout, alerting Hoseok – your current teammate – that you were receiving the ball. Yoongi watches as you dive forward into the tan sands, getting an arm under the ball just in time to pop it up for Hoseok to assist.

On the other side of the net, acting as your current rivals were Jungkook and Hoseok’s long-term girlfriend, Haru. They readied themselves up for a freeball to come over, acting fast when Hoseok sent the ball to the deep back corner of the court.

It is worth it to Yoongi to see your beautiful smile light up as you were enjoying the hobby you love most, watch you ravish the sport as if it were your natural element. The sweat beads off of your brow, forearms, even soaked the fabric slightly under each of your breasts of your bikini top.

A small bickering emits from Jungkook by the looks of it, clearly arguing about something that he finds unfair but it soon washes over from Hoseok kicking up sand at another for the sake of giggles.

You walk your way over to the tent with Haru after the two rambunctious men chase another towards the ocean. Your boyfriend, who looked completely unbothered by the environment around him even though you knew he’d do anything to be back inside with the cool air conditioner, welcomes you with a warm smile and an iced cold water bottle from the cooler that he has been monitoring because it harbors all the beers.

“Hey babe,” you lean down, placing a quick peck to Yoongi’s plump lips. He tastes the salt of your sweat, and you taste the alcohol on his breath. “Day drinking much earlier than yesterday?”

Yoongi shrugs in his chair, tilting his head back to finish off his current beverage, “It’s 5pm somewhere... It’s a vacation after all.”

You guzzle down your fresh water, towel wrapping around your neck to help pat down the glistening sweat that coats you. “I’m not judging,” you smile with a wink, “just observing. I don’t want you to be bored.”

“I’m not bored when I watch you. Plus it’s fun to see Jungkook get riled up.”

Grabbing hold of one of the many randomly scattered candy bags, Jungkook’s unhealthy snack choices at it’s finest, you settle with a few gummy worms to toss in your mouth. “He does get worked up fast when it comes to games.” The two of you laugh while looking over at the ocean to see Jungkook having Hoseok flipped over his shoulder and walking deeper in the water for a proper body slam.

“What should we have for dinner tonight? Home cooked or take-out?” Haru inquires, scanning over her phone for local restaurants that may peek the group’s interest.

Yoongi checks the time on his watch, grimacing at the thought of food shopping so soon when it nearly took you all three hours. A wad of cash was eliminated from his bank account, in the store to pack for the trip in the first place. Thankfully you had offered to him that he wouldn’t have to pay a single dime the entire vacation to make up for covering everyone that day.

“Let’s grab a bite somewhere, I’ve been to a place called Poseidon’s, lots of seafood and such! My treat.” You gleam a smile towards Yoongi who’s eyes widened at the word seafood, knowing very well how your man enjoys himself some nice cooked lobster.

Another day, another play.

Ever since visiting this great spot, your party visited the beach nearly every day! You on the other hand had no choice in the matter because you were practicing for your tournament at the end of the week with your partner. Annually, your old high school best friend and you would sign up for this beach tournament, catch up with another and reminisce on the younger years. It was only for the first week that you’d be tied to this obligation and luckily your group booked the rental house for two weeks, giving you more time with your friends afterwards.

Maggie, someone who you grew up with ever since befriending another in middle school, was your go-to gal for years before college separated another. She continued to a division one school on an all paid scholarship for volleyball. Your interests were a bit more separate from hers and you find yourself attending a creative arts school, division three, but you still continued to play for your schools team. As much as volleyball will forever be embedded into your blood, you found a new focus when it came to creativity and joined a school where you’d learn how to become a creative director of some sorts.

Together, Maggie and you spent most days making up the lost time. Your group was more than understanding prior to even agreeing to this vacation, and you all promised to make it worthwhile. One day, Yoongi had joined Maggie, her boyfriend Taehyung, and you on a lunch date. You were happy Yoongi showed up, given the fact that he’s a bit introverted and shy, but regardless the lunch went smoothly and to both Maggie’s and yours surprise - the two of you had found out that Taehyung and Yoongi knew another because they, too, went to the same high school.

Now, as you practice your heart out on the beach courts, Hoseok and Yoongi are padding their feet across the hot sands, hauling the belongings with a small wagon, far away from sight.

“I know the basics - the idea of how to play.” Yoongi insists, “I just want to be able to play with her. Nothing fancy.”

“Sounds pretty fancy to me. C’mon she’s the first girl to get you up off your ass. You must like her enough to endure the summer heat, exercising, the sun…” Hoseok counts off his fingers one by one.

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Yoongi shoves Hoseok in the shoulder. “Just get on with it and show me what I need to do.”

“Ok, first, you smile wide like this!” Hoseok giggles and manages to duck just in time from Yoongi’s flying hand.

The two pivot themselves off in the distance, much further down the beach than the volleyball courts could see, and far away from your view. To your knowledge the entire group dispersed to enjoy whichever activities they wish to do while you practiced with your partner. What you didn’t know is that Yoongi had asked Hoseok, on one of his drunken moods, for some one-on-one training so that he can pick up on the hobby you love most - to surprise you by the end of vacation and play a game of pick-up with you.

“Pass this!” Abruptly, Hoseok chucks the beach volleyball at Yoongi - only for him to naturally catch it with his hands. “No! Shake that basketball reflex, arms together! And extend! Make a platform - now pass it.”

Biting back his sharp tongue, Yoongi tosses the ball back for Hoseok to repeat the action, this time now he is prepared to pass it effortlessly with his forearms.

“Great!” Hoseok squabbles, “but, now you need the proper position. Bend your knees.”

“I have to bend them?” Yoongi reacts with a distasteful gesture.

“Center of gravity needs to be low for movement. Don’t plant your feet! The sand makes it much harder to move in.” He scolds with a push of his hands to Yoongi’s back, knocking the older man off balance. “See, you’re off center!”

Yoongi scoffs, “Pushing me around isn’t helping!” He fixes his friend with a stern glare through his cat-like eyes.

“Yeah, but it makes you focus. You do better when someone’s on your ass. I hear it all the time back at the apartment, Y/n is a bit… assertive in the bedroom.” Hoseok winks, eyes squinting from corner to corner.

“It’s no better compared to the amount of broken furniture that came from your room,” Yoongi quickly retorts, “even the damn couch is still broken!”

Hoseok shrugs, “not my fault both Haru, and you enjoy being bossed around by their significant others.”

Yoongi retaliates, “It’s not being bossed, maybe in your case, but not mine. We go both ways.”

Hoseok tosses the ball once again, hoping to pepper aimlessly with Yoongi and get him used to moving around, “You sure about that? You’re a passive person, Yoongi. Even I can pick on you and get away with it.” Hoseok taunts with a light heart, returning the ball back and forth between the two of them.

“Not everything is about being physical.”

Hoseok smirks, a judging last look before lightly hitting the volleyball down into Yoongi’s platform with the snap of his wrist, “We have a lot to work on, especially when it comes to hand setting. Maybe tomorrow when Y/n isn’t around we can snag a court and play a game with Haru and Kook.”

“We’ve exhausted spades, go-fish, and even tried blackjack.” Jungkook slurs his words around the neck of his beer bottle. He curls up along the armchair where he aimlessly stares up at the ceiling fan, counting out how many times it spins until forgetting where he left off.

“Well, it’s not the weekend just yet, so the bars won’t be that fun right now.” You speak, a small smile spread across your face as you glance over the table at your boyfriend who is nose deep into another playing card manual.

Jungkook’s large eyes look at you with hope, “will you go bar hopping with us when we do?”

“We’ll see how tired I am after the tourney, but I would love to, Kook!”

“Bullshit!” Hoseok’s voice pierced through the sound of pop music playing from Haru’s phone, hand slapping the table timed at the sound of his voice with a finger pointed up on the other as if a lightbulb had gone off above his head. Everyone glances over at him from the sudden outburst, “we haven’t played bullshit yet!”

You blink, shock value very evident on your face at Hoseok’s accusation. “For a second I thought you were calling me out, saying I wasn’t going to go out.” Laughing, you gather up a handful of playing cards that scattered the tabletop and begin shuffling the deck.

“Well, that too. We’ve been here only a few days, but you’ve been a bit too busy for some things. And a bit cranky at night too.” Haru jabs Hoseok with her elbow to his side, making him wince the moment her pointy bone contacted him.

Raising a questioning eyebrow at him, you briefly peeped over at Yoongi who only raised his shoulders to indicate his indifferences under your stare.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “This tournament is important to me, and it’ll be over just after the weekend. We’ll still have a few extra days for activities.”

“Yeah, noona is going to dance with me. It’s already set.” Sweet, drunken Jungkook sighs, head tilt back on his chair. His lips pursed, eyes closed as he imagines the upcoming bar crawl.

Yoongi interjects, head snapping up to glare over Jungkook, “You’re not going to get all handsy with my girlfriend.” He frowns, tossing a handful of papers to the side. “There’s plenty of single locals here. You’ll have no problem picking one up at a bar.”

Jungkook peeks one eye open, a cocky grin drawn to his face, “Worried about me taking Y/n?”

You sit there rolling your eyes, Hoseok too preoccupied by Haru snuggling up against him, and Yoongi death staring Jungkook - probably lighting him on fire in his mind.

“As if.” Yoongi challenges, grabbing hold of his almost empty drink to finish off with one swig.

“Guess noona never told you about Valentine’s day weekend? It was magical.” Jungkook snickers, until the push of Yoongi’s chair alerts the younger one of his hyung standing up, ready to go straight for Jungkook. Quickly, the tyrant Jungkook, jumps himself off the chair, throwing a pillow back towards Yoongi as he scampers his way down the hall, away from Yoongi’s wrath and out of view.

Yoongi shakes his head, “this kid is always so scared of me.” He collects the litter of empty bottles from the coffee table, gathers up the useless waste of napkins and food wrappers around the room to dispose of them in the trash.

“I’m sure he has many reasons to fear you. I had only given him a kiss to his hand when he burnt it when taking the pizza out of the oven. Guess that’s enough leverage for him to toy with.” You laugh, joining him along with cleaning up the table where you sit.

“I know,” he chuckles. “The moment it happened he came running into the living room to tell me. He acts like there was more to that.” Yoongi side-eyes you skeptically, almost playfully, “better be all that there was.”

For some time now, Haru rests her head against Hoseok’s shoulder and you were sure she was probably too tired to do much else, especially at the way she nearly tilts forward when Hoseok moves his body. Haru braces herself quickly, eyes shot wide, and glances you with a sheepish smile.

“Go to bed.” you urge, “both of you. Aren’t you going to the festival in the morning with us? Get some rest.”

Both Haru and Hoseok sluggishly get up from their spots, placing a few empty glasses to the counter before departing the room to their quarters. It is a bit late after all, and once the alcohol sinks in a bit everyone starts feeling a bit tired. You’re sure by morning everyone will be rejuvenated, energized to go straight back to partying.

Without notice, Yoongi stood behind you, resting his hands on both of your shoulders. “Hey…” He whispers.

You make a noise of acknowledgement, raising one of your hands to lay on top of his to rub soft circles around his knuckles.

“You okay, babe? You seem… stressed.” His hands emphasized the word by lightly squeezing the tendons of your shoulders. He feels your body react instantly, the tightness of your back slowly being worked over with his firm thumbs. Rolling over a tight knot, the flick of his thumb forces you to jolt from the straining muscle.

You laugh at your reaction, “Yeah. I guess I am. I’ve been so busy with practicing for the tourney, I guess I haven’t noticed my body has been so –“

“Stiff?” He is quick to finish your sentence, dipping his head down to peck an innocent kiss to your head. You nod with a sigh.

“You’ve been so occupied,” his lips came back down, “you probably forgot that you’re on a vacation.” He smirks into your hair, running his fingers up your neck to your jaw. Yoongi tilts your head back, enough to kiss you upside down.

It's lazy at first, soft pouty lips peppering another in sync. Until Yoongi deepens the kiss, daring himself to push his tongue into your mouth. The wet muscle met with you in a savory passion.

He tastes just as you expect, a hidden spike of whiskey and the odd flavor of mint lingering on his breath.

“Come.” Yoongi breaks away. Walking in front of where you sit he takes your hand in his, leading the two of you back to your bedroom.

“Yoongi…” you drawl out the syllables of his name with a sigh of defeat. “Yoongi, I’m sore.”

Before making it completely down the hallway, he pulls you into him with an arm snaked around your waist and a hand lifting your chin. With a soft smile across his face he gazes down at you with mirth, “I know babe, I’m here to make it better.”

You smile, raising your eyebrows in question, “Oh, yeah?”

Yoongi almost matches your mannerism, but instead gives you a sly look with a poke to your nose. “Yes. Now come.” With a flip you’re facing forward. His arms securely around your middle, Yoongi proceeds to waddle the two of you the rest of the way down the hall and into your room with a fit of shared giggles.

He kicks the door close behind him, ushering you to the edge of your shared bed. Before he let you turn, nuzzling his head between the crook of your neck to leave fleeting kisses across your supple skin.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, picking at the hem of your shirt.

You hum a tone of acknowledgement, smirking as Yoongi raises the loose material off your body. From here he can see your tan lines complemented by your sports bra, a slight shade darker than your beautiful natural skin tone.

He lightly tugs at one of the crossed straps, allowing it snap against your back. “This too.”

You look over your shoulder with a playful smile, “Of course.”

Cuffing the bottom of your bra you raise it up, allowing freedom to your soft set of mounds before Yoongi is fast in scoping both up with his hands before you could toss away the piece of clothing.

After disposing your athletic top his lips peppered along your shoulder blade.

“Now what?” You question while topping your hands over his.

“Lay down for me,” he directs with a loving slap to your right ass cheek, “face in the pillows.”

Cautiously, you kneel your way up the length of the bed, watching Yoongi who had walked over to a bag besides the dresser. He shuffles through its contents before pulling out a clear bottle with a rosé color top. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion while pressing your cheek to the fluff of a pillow.

Reading into your quizzical look your boyfriend responds with a wink, “Amber and argan oil.” He teasingly shook the container while stepping closer to the bed.

“You brought massage oil?” You ask, stunned.

“Thought we’d try it out.” Yoongi shrugs, lifting the remainders of your hair off your back, clearing up his workspace.

You groan with satisfaction as Yoongi perches himself over your body, resting his ass on the back of your thighs. “Mmm, I fucking love you,” you giggle into the sheets.

The sound of the cap popping off the bottle arouses your ears and soon enough you feel the lukewarm drizzle down the base of your spine. Its lightweight aroma is subtle, but has a soothing sweet smell.

Instantly your body melted into Yoongi’s fingertips, they diligently work the slippery liquid across your skin.

“I love you, too.” The smile is heard through his voice. He enjoys the way your back arches towards his hands, the way it chases his touch. He isn’t featherlight, his deft fingers are trained well against the taught muscles of your back, aiming to help un-knot you a bit.

His thumbs are quick to find the tightness along your shoulder blades, taking note to pay special attention to the areas with rigid and stressed muscles.

You deeply sigh into the pillow; eyes close comfortably in relaxation by Yoongi’s skillful digits.

A soft chuckle resounds from his chest, “you’re already moaning for me, babe?”

You nod your head, unashamed.

He watches the scattered goosebumps decorating your back appear and deplete in small fractions. Takes in your sun-kissed skin, the smooth gleam of oil slicking the surface. He smirks at your soft noises and the pleas that ask him to go softer or harder.

Boldly, Yoongi makes an effort to venture lower, dipping his hands into the waistband of your shorts. He rests the elastic below the swell of your ass, grabbing a firm handful of cheek in both palms.

You grumble in submission, not particularly upset with his choice of massage pattern.

Involuntarily, your body acts on its own accord. Arching yourself to further lift your bottom into his kneading hands.

“Careful, Y/n.” Yoongi spiritedly warns. “You’re going to make me hard if you keep that up.”

His thumbs hooked into the muscle of your exposed butt, applying a strong prod into the tenderness. You squirm under him, teeth trapping your bottom lip as a small mewl escapes your nose.

“Easy, easy!” He lets up, moving his hands to your hips. Running circles into your skin with the pads of his fingers, he continues to coax you. “I’m just trying to loosen you up.”

“I know. It feels good. It feels really good, Yoongi.” Huffing with a laugh, “I can’t believe how sore I am.”

Yoongi leans up, clutching his hands around your shoulders and casually dipping himself closer to you. “I can,” he whispers. Yoongi plants a small kiss between your shoulder blades, his hips leaning closer to the round of your ass. There you feel it – a slow drag along the crack of your cheeks of his hardening dick stuffed insides his shorts. He hums when you purposely push up to feel him more.

“I see that someone else also needs to loosen up a bit.”

Yoongi leaves room for you to spin in your spot. Once face-to-face he dips his head closer to yours, nudging your nose against his. “Maybe. Will you help me?”

Your hands raise the material of his shirt up his thin torso, watching Yoongi expertly yank it off in one swift movement.

“Of course, I’ll help you.”

Your smile met his lips with a soft peck that soon turns into a more heated make-out. Your tongue grinds against his just how his hips did into your pelvis.

Those nimble hands of yours traveled the expanse of his sides, legs raised for him to slot between. The kiss races into fervor, your fingers brush against his undercut, tugging at his thick locks and his fingers are desperate to tease your nipples.

You missed this, you missed him.

“Hold on, let me grab a condom.” Yoongi detaches his lips from yours reluctantly, retrieving a foil pack from a nearby drawer.

Your tongue quickly swipes between your parted lips, watching with a craned neck at your boyfriend who exhausted no time clearing his shorts and slinking the rubber snug along his swollen length. With a few languid tugs at his cock he wiggles his eyebrows towards you.

Whining almost pathetically, you rub your thighs together as you take his image in. Your boyfriend is handsome after all, you yearned to meet him many months ago because of your massive attraction to the way he looked. Learning to love him, and how dedicated and invested he is with parts of his life which make him happy – you being one of those things.

You grow more attracted to his whole being, ethos and all. His intuition, spirit, and character as a whole is what draws you into him every time. He makes you feel normal and special at the same time. Yoongi has a way about him that always makes you think about how deep his mind actually can be, always surprising you when he opens up.

Yoongi saunters back over to you, hands at your knees and running up the plane of your thighs to pull your bottoms off with your assistance.

“Wanna see how wet you are,” he rasps with the spread of your knees. Yoongi positions himself between your limbs, groaning when your slick glistens in the light. Inserting two fingers with little resistance, he listens to the high pitch breath that catches in your throat. With a thumb at your clit and two fingers knuckle deep – he sets a speedy pace.

You clench and unclench in unison to his pads stroking against the rough spongy area embedded in your walls. Yoongi stares at the rise and fall of your chest, the way your mouth parts with each soft moan. You’re beautiful and he knows it, but he wants you to know it – and feel it.

The warm sensational build up lingers in the pit of your stomach, an all too familiar sign to tell you’re coming close to your peak. Yoongi smirks, noticing this behavior, if not by the way your legs wiggle more and the way your head tosses to the side, but also by the way your cunt tightens around his two slim digits.

“Yoongi –“

His name rolls off your tongue as lustful as ever, your hand latching around the wrist connected to the fingers that assault your in a blissful manner. With his unoccupied hand now holding your hips in place, he inclines his head closer to your core. He replaces his thumb with his mouth, matching the rhythm of his deft fingers.

You shutter underneath him, both hands carding his hair for purchase while waves of pleasure vibrated through your cunt and the expanse of your body. The cream gathering around his fingers made its way into his mouth, savoring your natural essence.

“Feel good?”

Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.

Gladly, Yoongi careens closer, angling himself expertly so that the tip of his condom-covered cock dipped within your folds. Without dithering he pushes forward, sinking his cock in your wall-hugging slippery warmth. Inch by inch he disappears inside you, hitting the base of his pelvis against your clit. With arms snaked around your naked body he rests his head against your shoulder, turned enough to nip along your jawline.

His dick fills you up completely, deliciously. If it wasn’t for the slow shallow deep thrusts he gave your cunt, you’d be completely happy just holding him inside you for hours. In this position it was easy to grind himself into your clit, also easier to lock eyes with your flushed-out expressions.

The two of you exchange pleasurable moans that boosts another’s confidence. Audible noises that turned each other on even more, stroking your lustful pride that the both of you are fully enjoying the dirty act.

“Faster, please.” You match your hips up with his. Squelching noises fill the room with the snap of Yoongi’s thrusts. The wetter you get, the more tempting it is for Yoongi to ram straight into his your pretty cunt.

The jutting of his body scoots yours up with each stride, your legs locked around his waist and arms hooked around his back to anchor yourself.

Sweat coats around his hairline, threatening to form droplets that eventually would escape his body. The summer night’s dry air hugs the two of you, rising temperatures amplifying your bodies. The smell of sex loiters in the room, no doubt. And you silently thank that famous engineer for inventing the air conditioner, the one that sat in the window to your right - you’re positive the both of you will rush straight to it after this intimacy ended.

Between grunts, Yoongi whispers profanities. Swearing under his breath and murmuring dirty words into the shell of your ear. “Did you like my fingers in you?” “Like this cock deep inside you?” “You feel fuckin’ fantastic.” “I want to bury myself inside this pussy every night.” “I love you.”

Each sentence fills your mind, swirling your emotions and hormones. It is hot. You sang back your appeals, smiled wide as he sends your body into pleasure.

“Flip.” You request, hauling Yoongi enough to make him roll with you.

You settle atop him, dick still very much intact inside your body. Yoongi gazes at you with hooded eyes, his hair fanning around his head. The beat of his heart matched the same pace as your own, both panting for oxygen and running with the enjoyment your bodies are experiencing.

Bouncing on him with what little strength you still have, you fuck yourself on his swollen cock while Yoongi’s hands are gripping your waist like a vice. The bed squeaks under your weight, his head bobs along with your ministrations, Yoongi’s jagged breath warns you that you’re doing exactly what his body wants.

“Babe, I’m…“

“Me too.” You gasp once his thumb locks onto your clit again, drawing figure-eights quickly. Your walls squeeze around his tender length, body jerking with each ambitious dive of his cock into your cervix.

Yoongi’s head tosses back, brows furrowed in concentration while his bottom lip traps itself between his set of teeth. The erratic moment of your body convulsing on top of him made him lose it – draining himself in the condom with lewd moans and nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he chants with declaration. Mere seconds after his orgasm, you find your second one. A cry breaking free from your mouth, you rock yourself on his shaft throughout your fervent ride, arousal seeping all around his pubic hairs.

Leaning down, you kiss another between labored breaths, “Thank you so much.”

He snorts a laugh, holding you against his chest as his softening dick slips out from your spent hole. “You feel a bit better?”

“A lot better.”

As much as you love to cuddle against your boyfriend, the two of you became much more socially aware of how agonizingly sticky your bodies have become. Unenthusiastically, you peel yourself off the top of Yoongi, rolling yourself to your back. You stare senselessly at the air conditioner that mocks you, frowning about how far of reach it is from the bedside.

“You think if we turn it on full blast, by the time we’re done with a shower it will be super cold in here?” Yoongi asks, sitting himself to the edge of the bed to carefully yank off the condom without spilling his seed. He looks over his shoulder to you, back and buttcrack exposed to your view and you couldn’t help but smirk fondly at him.

“God, I hope so. I feel so disgusting right now.”

Giving yourself enough recuperation time, the two of you finally lift yourselves off the bed, turn on the air conditioner and work your way to the bathroom. The brisk shower remains lukewarm, the sticky sweat washes away with soap sudz and water. Your boyfriend and you came back to a frigid bedroom, a perfect temperature to slink bodies together and canoodle another under the comfort of a blanket for the rest of the night.

Rejuvenation at its finest, indeed.

Now that it’s Friday - a day before your tournament - you join the group along with the festivities taking hold at the beach front. You share a way-too-sweet customized coffee, some delicious chocolate dipped churros and apple fritters with Yoongi. Battle Haru and Hoseok with the water-shooting contest and also were able to pick out a few hand-made beaded bracelets to gift to your entire party.

Jungkook and Yoongi went head to head at being the winner with the highest score on the dunk tank, earning one of the larger stuffed purple koalas. To your amusement, and Jungkook’s ego, he gifts you the prize after rubbing his victory in Yoongi’s face.

“He does it on purpose, Yoongi.” your arm linking around his, watching Hoseok share a singular strawberry malt with Haru between two straws. A corny-coupley thing that you find cute.

Yoongi tips his hat forward, rubbing his nose quickly to act as if he wasn’t bothered. “I let him win that.”

“Right,” you peck his shoulder with a kiss. “You reacting the way you do only compels him to continue.”

“Yeah, one day he’s going to get it,” he pouts, turning over to look at you with a concerned look. “Can’t have him thinking he has any chance.”

You bite back a smile, squeezing his arm tighter to your body. “Never. Kook isn’t my type.”

“And what is?”

“You,” you coo, grabbing hold of Yoongi for a kiss now to his lips. “Your voice, eyes, that gummy smile of yours.”

“Irrelevant.” Yoongi smirks, nudging you forward toward a booth with swinging basketball hoops.

“That deep sexy voice of yours, especially in the mornings when I wake up next to you.” You continued to list more things off despite Yoongi’s pleas for you to stop. “I even have a thing for…” you look down his front with a playful smile, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Enough, enough!” he laughs, shaking his head at your ridiculousness.

Even though from the outside it never seems like Yoongi enjoys attention, compliments, or too many loads of love - you know he appreciates everything positive you say about him.

“But, what I like most,” Yoongi pays a staff member a few dollars for his shot at the game. You watch his first throw, sinking the ball straight into the moving basket that is purposely bent to rig the game. “The way you are very genuine about everything. You wear your heart on your sleeve. How you can’t hide your fond expressions when someone you care for does something endearing. When you shy away from affection but secretly crave it.”

Yoongi turns his head to look you in the eyes, even with puzzlement dressing his soft face you can see the wonder lurking in his sharp eyes. He shuffles his basketball between his hands anxiously, anticipating your next words.

“You have one of the most kindest of hearts I have ever had the privilege of getting to know. And I love you.”

With another flick of his wrist his ball goes to the air, bouncing against the backboard of the moving basket and lulls itself into the hoop. You see the bob of his Adam's apple, a slight furrow of his brow, but what you can’t realize is how your words truly affect him. You live with the comfort knowing that Yoongi has a hard way of expressing his emotions, the thoughts in his mind that race in and out can not form coherent sentences to explain what he is feeling.

Managing to score four out of the five throws, Yoongi alternatively wins a prize from the top shelf. His hand skims the small of your back, drawing you closer to his side as he requests you to pick one to your liking. You point at a stuffed flamingo, excitement runs through you when the item turns out much more softer to the touch than what it looks like - much like your boyfriend who now stares down at you with precaution.

“I love you, too.” he mutters, a small coy smile spreading across his lips.

You had practiced one last time with Maggie before the tournament day, during which Yoongi and Hoseok managed to snag in more volleyball learning without your notice. Even this time they had Haru and Jungkook to help with learning, and surprisingly Yoongi had caught on to the game fairly fast. Even shocking Hoseok with the way Yoongi became a very strong setter with lack of experience. Something about Yoongi with his hands made everything come a bit natural.

You try - try - your best to go to bed at a decent hour that night, considering that you had to wake up and check-in to your tournament by eight in the morning, set up your canopy and figure out which court you’d be playing on. It was hard to fall asleep at a reasonable hour no thanks to Hoseok’s obnoxiously loud laughter and sputtering words that broke through even the heaviest set of walls. Not even the hush of the air conditioner blowing cold air on high could overcome the harsh vocals of tipsy Hoseok.

Thankfully, your boyfriend who checks on you a few times within the early night solves the problem of the loud outbursts emitting from the living area of the house. Mainly after the death glare you had shot him with only out of annoyance and a curse under your breath saying “i’m going to fuckin’ murder Hobi if he doesn’t shut the hell up.”

It was quiet after that and the moment your body found solitude to drift itself into slumber it was comforted by the warmth of Yoongi’s arm slinking around your waist, drawing your body against his as his warm breath fans out of his nose into the back of your neck.

Your eyes remain shut until the blurting noise from your cell phone awoken you in the morning.

Now you find yourself in your first match, first set against an opposing team. The air runs from the ocean, a cool breeze before the hot summer sun decides to warm up the sand below your feet. Pool play usually is hit or miss, sometimes a random good team would dominate the other teams in the pool, and luckily you were that very team.

As the day runs, both you and Maggie go against the other four teams - coming out on top in each match, besides one where the teams split wins. You’re feeling great, Maggie and you become a massive threat towards nearby courts, people knowing who may be the future competition once pool play is over and the winning teams advanced to the next level.

During the middle of your games, your party finally joined Maggie’s boyfriend under the tent, in favor to help support you to the fullest. It makes you happy to see your favorite humans watch you do well, a boost of confidence always spiking when you can hear the loudest cheers from the sideline knowing damn well it was your good friends rooting you on.

Tip-toeing along the hot sand side-by-side with Maggie, you run over to give Yoongi a quick hug as you collapse yourself on his seat. “Slept in later than expected?” You tease, noting the time on your watch.

Yoongi ticks his head towards the youngest who had found purchase in a lounge chair, beach blanket covering his body, “He got a bit more wasted than he expected. Took Hobi and I three different styles of waking his ass up.”

“And what was the solution?” You laugh with the twist of your water bottle cap, graciously taking a well deserved swig of fresh water.

“Titty-twisters.”

You hear a subtle groan from under the blanket of which Jungkook lays, earning a chuckle from the crowd around him.

“I see,” you snuggle yourself closer into Yoongi’s embrace. “Guess Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to dance with me tonight after the tourney...”

“Wait - no! I’m fine!” He jumps up, blanket falling off abruptly to unveil the round, red, puffy, sleepless eyes of Jungkook. They wince due to the sunlight bouncing off the surroundings, hair array every way possible. “We’re dancing!”

“Get more rest and some tylenol in you before even thinking about going to the bar tonight.” You scold, tossing him a random snack from the side pocket of your duffle bag. “And start eating some non-greasy things.”

Both Maggie and you had finished your lengthy beach tournament; ending up losing in the finals against one of the recurring top teams known to play at this competition. It was close of course, only losing by a few point differentials but it didn’t matter to either one of you at that point in the day because second place has been the farthest the two of you ever had come in the years of playing in this tournament. After surpassing through the semifinals, the two of you were content with whichever outcome you had coming.

And hey, you guys still won some cash prizes for being in second seat!

After packing up your canopy, riding back to your temporary vacation home to wash up and take a small nap before heading out for the night, you had promised the entire group that you’d take care of tonight's bill and urged the drinkers to go buckwild.

Poseidon’s pub and nightclub is one of the top hotspots in this area, great live bands every weekend with two different decks and three separate bars, this establishment was your top priority to show off to your friends. By the time your party shows up to the club it’s blasting out loud pop music and flashing lights all around.

Jungkook, who had slept off his previous night’s hangover, has been completely recuperated and is ready for another night of binge drinking. Hoseok and Haru were first at the nearest bar, darting over to grab a handful of shots to start up the night with courtesy of handing over your card to the bartender for the tab. Yoongi holds you close throughout the waves of bodies dancing and lingering around the floor, your eyes set to your phone as you text Maggie that you had arrived and hope to see her - eventually.

It wasn’t long until everyone found their inspiration to party, exhaustion aside and now jitters coursing through your body like fireworks, perhaps it was thanks to the alcohol sinking into your system. Bioluminescence lights glisten off the top of your boyfriend's hair in which you run your fingers through, reflecting off just how it did to everyones; his dark sharp-cut eyes even darker with the lighting around him. He smells of fresh aftershave, a minty aroma tingling your nose as you drive your face into the crook of his neck.

You two enjoy a slow grind to the current song, swinging your hips in sync with another’s, hands never daring to leave each other’s body. Yoongi milked his beers after the first round of shots, tried claiming that liquor before beer you’re in the clear, until Jungkook slides the two of you each a larger drink; a bright red concoction of something massively fruity with a single cherry topping above the ice.

“It’s called the Red Devil! Haru had one, I had one, now it’s your turn! It’s so good!” Jungkook yells above the music between the two of you, slinking his body against Yoongi and you due to the small areas between other bodies. Jungkook practically shoves a glass into your lips, the other in front of Yoongi’s chest, forcing the two of you to separate enough to clutch each glass.

“It smells like shit.” Yoongi grimaces, mouth turning downwards into a harsh frown.

You on the other hand, have no choice but to taste the alcoholic drink because of the clink of the glass against your teeth. It was sweet at first, an indistinctive flavor touching your tongue, causing you to inspect the red liquid as you ponder. Until you see the wide smile from Jungkook, teeth beaming towards you with a mischievous grin. That’s when you notice the tang of flavor spikes, an after taste of cinnamon practically burning its way down your esophagus.

Coughing, you push the glass back to Jungkook, eyes slightly watering from the sudden flavor. “Oh god, you know I can’t handle spicy shit. That thing is vile!”

“It’s called Red Devil for a reason!” He laughs, taking the drink back and gulping down a portion of it. At this point Jungkook is going to revisit another nasty hangover in the morning, but you can’t blame him for enjoying his vacation to the fullest.

Yoongi pushes the glass back to Jungkook, “Give it to Hobi, I'm not drinking this.”

Infuriating enough, the youngest pushes the glass back, “you give it to him. It’s about time I get my dance with Y/n anyways. You’ve been hogging her all night.”

“She’s my girlfriend!”

It’s possible that the larger crowd and uncountable ounces of alcohol that Jungkook has taken, causes him to be much more bolder, brasher than usual. He ignores the glare Yoongi sends his way, especially when Jungkook steps between the two of you; back now facing Yoongi.

You raise your eyebrows at Yoongi, shrugging into your sentence, “Just one song. I’ll come right back to you. I did promise him I'd dance with him.”

Yoongi doesn’t stay mad too long, but now both of his hands occupy glasses of an unfavorable drink as he walks away to search for Hoseok. He knows Jungkook is just going to pester them the rest of the night if he refuses to allow it and a dance isn’t harmful at all. Even when he perches himself against the wall besides Hoseok and Haru, eyes watching you stare back at him with a smile.

“You going to pick up any of these people around us?” You question Jungkook who gyrates around you to the new upbeat flow of music. It’s more cluby now, the song switches between motions of fast pace and a slow break down during the chorus, Jungkook perfectly matching the synergy of the music. You glance over at Yoongi a handful of times, shaking your head at Jungkook’s perky dance moves and laughing with the amusement that dresses his face.

“Actually, I have one coming back with us already - if that’s cool.” Jungkook swings your body around, his front now facing your back. He places his chin on your shoulder as he scans the bodies dancing around. “Long black hair, mini skirt, nine o’clock.”

“Oh, i’m impressed, you’re a fast worker.” You laugh, spinning back around in place. You push Jungkook softly against his chest, “I expect you to go dance with them instead of me.”

Jungkook pouts, hair falling short in front of his eyes from bopping his head, “but I have a vendetta with Yoongi, gotta get in my daily annoyance. Plus you’re fun to dance with.”

“You really do enjoy messing with him.”

Jungkook nods excitedly, eyes scanning the perimeter until he spots the dark haired elder leaning against the wall staring straight back at him. He takes both of your hands in his, raises them up to make kissy noises against each of your knuckles as he laughs along with you. The second Yoongi pushes himself off the wall, Jungkook snaps his head back towards you, bids you farwell and rushes himself through the crowd towards his new acquaintance.

You match Yoongi’s trudges, meeting up with him halfway before he could go any further towards Jungkook. By the look on his face you can tell he was ready to show his dongsaeng who’s boss.

“Ya know, you’re kind of cute when you get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” Yoongi rebukes.

“Are you mad?”

Looking over Yoongi’s features, his posture remained relaxed but his eyes looked like they were burning holes into the back of Jungkook’s head. “Nah. I just think Jungkook wants to play. It’s funny, honestly. Just don’t tell him that. I’ll just let him believe that i’m mad.”

His hands lock themselves around your waist, drawing you in closer to his frame. “If anything,” Yoongi latches his lips to yours, “he’s the one who’s jealous. He can’t have you.”

Soft moans escape through Yoongi’s parted mouth, lips slightly trembling with pleasure building up within his body. You hollow your mouth as much as possible, dipping your head as far down as you could take him before your gag reflex threatens to betray you. Saliva accumulated around the base of his cock, your free hand wraps around the skin you couldn’t fit inside of your mouth just to help add sensations to his entire length.

It was early, you can see the subtle light leaking through the crack of the curtains of your room; light chirping of seagulls out in the distance along with the winds banging against the chimes outside on the deck. Yoongi’s hand assists with holding your hair up as your head towers his cock, bobbing it up and down beneath the covers.

The two of you did sleep quite well once you got home, even managing to ignore the random bumps and noises coming out of Jungkook’s neighboring room - he did end up taking that random person back home.

Though you couldn’t get as drunk as you’d like between the tiredness your body has already undergone, holding Haru’s hair back from puking her stomach out in the club’s bathroom and dealing with a much more drunken Yoongi. Once you rallied up your troops you closed your tab, called a cab and headed home for the night.

“S-suck harder.” Yoongi begs you in a whisper, cock twitching inside your mouth.

You slurp, hard, on your next drag up his length. Yoongi inhales sharply, fist tightening within your hair and hips bucking up to chase your mouth. He was coming close to unfolding himself into you, visions of dressing your mouth with his white hot cum rushing through his mind.

By introducing your free hand to his balls you earn a low guttural groan from Yoongi. Massaging them gently within your palm as you tease your tongue right under the head of his dick. He chokes on his words, hand abruptly forcing your head down to take his cock deeper as he empties himself deep in your throat.

After swallowing what you can, you wipe your lips off with the back of your hand; other hand lazily tugging Yoongi’s softening cock. You smile up at him.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, voice croaky.

He was half asleep when you began to suck your boyfriend off but now you were sure he had become wide awake.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I can’t complain.” He smiles lazily, eyes closing as he embraces his post orgasm state.

Climbing up the side of his body, you card yourself into his arm as you snuggle closer with the blanket. Yoongi looks so at ease with the moment even with the disheveled bed head he’s rocking and puffy cheeks.

His hand slowly rubs against your back in a soothing pattern, fingers featherlight with each tender stroke.

“Do you want me to make you some coffee?” You offer, knowing well that Yoongi needed some substance other than alcohol to enter his system.

Yoongi shakes his head, deciding to curl himself up against you instead, “No, not right now. I just want to stay like this.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you remained in each other's embrace, Yoongi quickly fell back asleep against you. The soft pitter-patters of feet outside your room notified you that somebody - probably Hoseok - was up and shuffling his way to the kitchen. Silently, you slip yourself out of Yoongi’s arms and throw on a pair of shorts so you weren’t walking around in just a shirt and underwear.

“Morning,” you chirp as you enter the kitchen, seeing Hoseok staring at the coffee machine as it drains itself into his awaiting mug. He grumbles his acknowledgment, clearly a bit cranky.

“Jungkook keep you up?”

“No.” Hoseok sighs, rubbing his hands over his sleep-crusted eyes, “Haru wouldn’t stop crying. She kept saying how sorry she was for throwing up and was worried that she would spend the entire day in bed with a hangover.”

You voice an ‘oh’ as you place your own mug to the coffee machine after Hoseok takes his in hand, wrapping around the island counter to sit on one of the stools.

“What time did you manage to sleep?”

“Six.”

The automatic clock hung on the kitchen wall and flashed a few minutes after eight. You clench your teeth together and you see Hoseok nod in affirmation. “Yeah.”

You pat Hoseok on the back after grabbing your fresh coffee before shagging his hair up, “Try to get a nap sometime today. I think Jungkook wanted to go to the beach again after hitting up a few shops, you’re more than welcome to come along.”

“I had already told Yoongi I'd help him with something but we’ll meet you guys at the beach!”

Before leaving to go back to your room and hand over the cup of coffee to Yoongi, you give Hoseok a confused look. He avoids your eyes, averting his own to the magazines scattered around the counter.

“You literally have twenty minutes before Y/n comes back here with Jungkook. He’s been trying to stall her as much as possible.” Hoseok warns Yoongi as he stomps his way through the sand and back to the court, hands rubbing the extra sun-screen across his skin.

“I shouldn’t have drank so much last night.” Yoongi frowns at the volleyball in his hands; he stands at one endline and waits for Hoseok to walk on the court on the other side.

Haru, who also is suffering from too much intoxication, holds her own as a setter between the two courts, ducking herself beneath the net everytime the ball gets sent over. As long as Yoongi and Hoseok maintained control of the ball they could pass it to her zone so she didn’t have to do as much work.

They play a game, not massively competitive, but enough to get warmed up before you come back for Yoongi’s surprise. He has worked incredibly hard in secrecy. Also, Hoseok proved himself as a decent volleyball coach in the making.

“Burn it off. I saw you chug a good amount of water already. Work through it and you’ll sober up.”

“I just don’t want to be a complete ass when I play with her.” The sun beams down hard from above; Yoongi’s hat, arms, and feet burn from the contact of the extra exposure. He made sure to apply his own sunscreen at least three separate times ever since he’s been outside, and as much as he loathes the heat and unbearable humidity, he still chooses to play the sport you love most.

Yoongi serves the ball enough to lollipop the ball over the net in Hoseok’s vicinity. They practice, all three of them, enough to rally the volleyball around. Yoongi still has his moments where he refuses to bend his knees for a pass, insisting that the ball was ‘too high’ for his liking. But what surprises Hoseok the most is Yoongi’s ability to jump fairly high in the sand, it must be the basketball skills that help him perform much better.

In the middle of a play the group hears a yell from afar. As they turn, they see Jungkook waving his hands in the air with a cheerful smile in the distance, bags in each hand swing aimlessly with his movements. “We’re here!” he screams across the beach, ignoring all the curious bystander’s stares.

You trail behind Jungkook, tugging the cooler on wheels behind you. Even as you walk towards the courts, your head tilts left and right like a puppy trying to understand what you think you had just seen. Did you see what you think your eyes saw? Is your boyfriend standing in the open sun, on a volleyball court, with a volleyball in his hands right now?

“What are you doing?” You question Yoongi as you step closer, plopping down the cooler under the pitched tent. You’re befuddled, looking between Haru, Hoseok and Yoongi as you try to process any ideas on what is actually going on.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Yoongi, who now seems incredibly embarrassed with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, spoke softly towards you.

You smirk with joy, touched that Yoongi has gone out of his way, out of his comfort, to surprise you with a sweet gesture. “Where did you? How? When did you learn?”

“Hobi’s been helping me a little, i’m not great, but i’m alright.”

Running over to hug your boyfriend, you giggle into his chest. “This is the cutest thing, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say ‘Heads or Tails’.”

“What?” You turn to look at Jungkook who holds a coin in his hand, prepping it to flip in the air.

“You and Yoongi verses Hobi and I.” He smiles wide, tossing the coin up high into the air. “Call it!”

In unison both Yoongi and you declare tails, and as the coin is caught and flipped in Jungkook’s hand, it reveals that very end.

“We’ll take recieve.” You chime in, excited with the way Yoongi challenges Jungkook with playful banter.

Enthusiastically, the groups plant themselves on opposite sides. Whispering small strategies and goals. You tell Yoongi to aim for Hoseok, keep it away from Jungkook, mainly because Jungkook was the stronger hitter of the two. Haru sat in the shade, choosing to be the referee and scorekeeper.

The game started off light, a few points given to another over silly mistakes and miscommunications. Yoongi shys away from the ball most of the time, thinking you should take most balls because of your experience and that you were generally better at the game. If it wasn’t for you yanking his arm to make him snap out of whatever trance he was in, he’d probably end up letting a ball drop two feet in front of him.

He was nervous after all, he wants to play well.

It wasn’t until Hoseok started scuffing up some small trash-talk through the net, more like a taunt towards Yoongi, a tactic to see if Yoongi would step up his game.

And it was working.

Especially after Hoseok discusses openly how Yoongi only does well when he’s being bossed around. A small inside joke only the two of the men understood. But what had tilted Yoongi the most was once Jungkook pitched in, adding his own form of toxicity in the mix. Which they all knew would be one thing… using you as leverage to piss Yoongi off.

“Y/n and I had so much fun earlier today. We shared some snacks together, went in a few clothing stores where Y/n tried on a few nice pieces…”

You roll your eyes, sighing as you look over to Yoongi who stares straight into Jungkook. “Here we go again,” you mutter to yourself.

The next play felt more intense, you even noticed Yoongi stepping closer towards you to pick up the ball more than normal. He wants the ball, he wants to do something with it.

Yoongi continuously aimed his hits towards Hoseok, nothing too hard, but it was noticeable how he was favoring his spikes towards his roommate. That alone motivated Jungkook to tease Yoongi some more, “Can’t hit at me now? Are you scared or something?”

The fun laughs and giggles turned into grunts and pants, both you and Yoongi work hard on your side of the court, and you love every second of the heated game that blazed along the summer heat. Jungkook manages to swing very hard, directing his spike right in front of you, but you had just enough time to stick your arm out and pass the ball up before it lands.

Yoongi rushes over, a dive with his foot, kicking the ball up high enough for you to pass the ball deep into Jungkook’s corner. The youngest scurries himself quickly across the sand, almost colliding with Hoseok in the process. He saves the ball from landing, freeballing it back over to Yoongi’s area.

“Go outside!” You yell towards Yoongi after he passes the ball high enough for you to square yourself up by the net.

The pass, the set, the entire momentum of the play came out pristine and this was the golden opportunity for Yoongi to show off his skills. Jungkook sees the chance Yoongi is about to make and runs himself up to the net and readying himself to block Yoongi’s oncoming hit as Hoseok adjusts his positioning in the back court.

Both men jump, Yoongi winding his arm back to fling it forward, snapping his wrist on top of the ball the moment his hand came in contact with it. He angles his swing, cutting the direction of the ball to the open area just inside the ten-foot line that remained uncovered.

In the process of the hit, Jungkook leaps himself up, arms raised high in an attempt to block the spike. He does manage to block the direct path of the volleyball… but with his face instead.

The volleyball smacks hard into Jungkook’s face, cutting straight down into his side of the net as Jungkook stumbles back to save the ball from completely falling, but fails as he lands on the ground. His nose quickly turns red from impact, scrunching his face as his hands cover the sore appendage.

Both you and Hoseok sputter out words, asking Jungkook if he’s alright as he locks eyes with Yoongi. Yoongi stands stunned at the incident, eyes wide and mouth gaping as Jungkook smiles back at him after making sure his nose wasn’t bleeding.

“Guess I deserve that, huh?”

Yoongi shrugs, holding his hand out for Jungkook to help lift himself up, “Yeah, probably.” The two of them laugh it off, shaking the sand from their bodies.

Before ending the game and walking back to the shade of the tent, Yoongi pulls you in for a hug, kissing your temple. “Told you he was gonna get it.”

“Yoongi!” you scold with a laugh, shaking your head in disapproval yet he knows you find it enjoyable.

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