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cozage · 10 months

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HELLO IVE BEEN WAITINT DOR THIS MOMENT CAN I REQUEST FOR LAW A ONE SHOT OF HIS SO BEING SICK N HES JUST SUPER WORRIED N SCARED FOR HER WELL-BEING AND NURTURES THEM BACK TO HEALTH THANJ YOU I LOVE TOU HAVW A GEWAT DAY/NIGHT TOODLES POOKIE PIE

A/N: Apparently I don’t know how to write short fics anymore. Here you are :) Word Count: 3k Characters: gn reader x Law CW: reader sickness, serious sickness, angstttttt (with fluff at the end. i'm not a monster)

Sickness

It took a sniffle for Law to finally see the signs.

You were already asleep, sprawled out in the bed when it happened. You had been abnormally warm today, spending most of it in a tank top and shorts despite being in a winter ecosystem. When it was time for meals, you opted for ice cream over anything else. You hadn’t been very hungry, and that was the only thing you craved. The crew had made fun of you, but you hadn’t shot back any witty remarks like normal.

And then at bedtime, you had immediately pulled Law into bed when you both entered the room. Your cold feet pressed against his calves, causing him to hiss and jerk away from you. But you just gave a soft, sleepy giggle, wrapped your arms around him, and fell asleep almost immediately. He enjoyed your snuggles, but not even ten minutes later, you had pushed him away and kicked the blankets off, sprawling out in the bed in the little clothing you had on.

It’s not exactly where Law thought the evening was going. You had been so clingy over the past few hours, silently begging him to go to bed. He just thought the two of you were just playing a game of teasing, one that would end in a night of fun.

And then you sniffled in your sleep and readjusted, groaning from the heat in the room. And Law realized what he had been missing all day. You were sick. How could he even call himself a doctor if he couldn’t see the obvious signs with you, the person he knew best?

He needed to run a scan. He wasn’t sure how serious it was, and early intervention was always the best cure. He slowly, painstakingly, tried to get out of bed without disturbing you.

“Law?” Your voice was thick with sleep, your eyes only opening a fraction of an inch. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he assured you. He bent down to kiss your forehead, but thought better of it. If it was contagious, he didn’t want to catch it. Instead, he put a hand to your face, and his breath caught in his throat. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you. Your skin was hot to the touch as he swept your matted hair away from your forehead.

He was panicking now, but he gave you a tense smile. He had to maintain his composure. “Go back to sleep, alright?”

“I’m hot,” you whined, flipping over your pillow and pressing the cool silk fabric to your face. “I don’t feel so good.”

“I know,” he cooed, still brushing the hair out of your face. “Let’s get to the bottom of this, okay? See what’s going on.”

You gave a weak nod, too tired to do anything else. “Can we just do the exam here?”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. One arm slid under your back, the other slid behind your knees, and Law scooped you up in one swift, gentle motion.

You laid your head against his chest, and he could feel the heat coming off your body in waves. He forced his heart to remain steady and unbothered, fully aware that you could hear it.

Silently carrying you to the medical room, his mind raced through the options of what you could be sick with. It was likely a virus, which meant it would be difficult for him to remove. And viruses could change and multiply on a dime. You were already displaying signs of-

“Law.” Your groggy voice jarred him from his thoughts. “I’m fine. Stop panicking.”

He had been so focused on his heart, he hadn’t been paying attention to the rest of his body. His grip on you had gotten too tight, his pace was just short of sprinting, and his breath was shallow and rapid.

“You should’ve told me,” he said, carefully maneuvering you through the examination room door.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s just a cold.”

“It could be-”

“Don’t start spiraling,” you scolded, giving a light cough. “Just do your job.”

His eye twitched in irritation, but he wouldn’t say anything because you were sick. He knew you were right, of course. But he hated when you had to call him out like that. He placed you gently on the cool metal table, and you hummed in delight at the refreshing sensation against your skin.

He grabbed his sword and ran a quick scan, trying to find the source of your sickness.

A red icon appeared in your scan around your lungs. “Bronclima,” Law breathed. “A very rare parasitic virus that can be caught in winter islands. The virus can hibernate for hundreds of years, usually residing in old snow caves.”

You gave a weak laugh. “Like the snow cave we climbed down into yesterday, huh?”

“This isn’t funny!” Law snapped. He ran to his bookshelf, searching for any information about it. “Bronclima is extremely rare and…”

“Deadly?” you finished for him. You suddenly felt infinitely more tired. “Can’t you just take it out?”

“Parasitic viruses are tricky,” he mumbled, flipping through an old book. “You have to get it all or else your body just becomes more susceptible to them. It’s hard to use a room technique on viruses in general, but parasitic ones are alive and can move, which makes it almost impossible.”

“Antibiotics, then.”

“No.” Law’s teeth were grit together; you could tell he was only keeping it together so you wouldn’t break down in a panic. “Antibiotics only work on bacterial infections. Viruses just have to run their course.”

“The strong survive,” you hummed, closing your eyes. “The weak die. I see.”

“You’re not dying,” Law hissed. “Bronclima only likes the cold, so we're going to keep you hot and force this thing to die, okay?”

“I’m already so hot, though,” you whined, rolling over on the exam table. At least the metal helped you cool down.

“Good. Stay hot. Stay alive.” Law picked you back up, and you groaned at the sudden movement and absence of the cold surface.

He carried you to the shower without a word and set you down inside it. You could feel the anxiety rising in him as he fiddled with the temperature gauge, and turned the shower on.

You cried out in pain as the hot water hit you, and your hands flew up to try and block as much of the water as you could. Your skin immediately started to turn red, welting as the water cascaded over you.

Law saw your reaction and quickly tested the water with his hand, but it was only lukewarm. He clenched his teeth and slowly turned the water hotter, adjusting the nozzle so the water was raining down directly on you.

“Law!” you shrieked, trying to get out of the way without moving. You couldn’t find the energy to crawl away from the water, even though your skin felt like it was burning off. Law watched you carefully, turning the water temperature up slowly.

“Please,” you sobbed, curling up into a sitting fetal position. “Please stop. You’re going to kill me, Law.”

“Hey.” Law crouched down next to you and tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. Tears and scalding water streaked down your face and blurred your vision, but you could see the familiar outline of him. He had stripped down to only his boxers, and he pulled you into his lap and held you close to him as the water rained down on your both. He kissed the top of your head, trying his best to comfort you. “You’re strong. You can handle this, okay?”

You let out a sob in response, but you nodded into his inked chest. You had been through worse, though you couldn’t remember a specific time at the moment.

The two of you stayed there for a long time. You weren’t sure exactly how time was passing, so you counted how many times his fingers ran down your hair. It was 259 strokes before you finally passed out from exhaustion and pain.

You woke up, now in a steaming hot tub, Law still holding you. You let out a soft whimper from the pain, and Law jolted up.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, readjusting you slightly against him. “I must’ve dozed off.”

You gave another small nod, too tired to do anything else.

“We need to get your entire body submerged,” Law said, his voice steely. “At least up to your shoulders.”

“Law, please-”

“I know.” His voice broke when he spoke. “I’m sorry, but I can’t lose you, okay? So please keep fighting.”

You could hear the desperation in his voice. He was on the verge of tears, barely holding it together for you.

You had to fight for him. You owed him that much, and so much more. He always had faith in you, he was always saving you. This was the least you could do. Clenching your teeth and bracing yourself, you completely submerged yourself in the scalding bathwater.

The heat of the water took your breath away, and you clamped your hands over your mouth to prevent any more air from escaping. You felt like your skin was melting off, but you forced yourself to stay completely under. You’d stay under as long as you had to if it meant getting this wretched virus out of your system.

Two strong hands grabbed your arms and pulled you back to the surface. Law’s golden eyes pierced into your soul, scanning your face for any signs of distress.

“Let me go back under,” you begged between heavy breaths.

He scowled. “So you can drown?!”

You pulled away from him and plunged back into the water. It still burned, but it wasn’t as hot as before.

Law immediately pulled you back up, trying to get you to calm down.

“Soup,” you gasped, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I need soup.”

“What has gotten into you? Where’d this energy come from?”

“I want to live. I want to be with you. I’m not being taken out by some stupid virus. So go get me soup!”

Law grabbed your face and went to kiss you, but you pushed him away. As much as you needed his lips as encouragement, you couldn’t have him getting sick too.

“Soup!” You pushed him out of the tub, and he ran out the door in his boxers. You could only hope nobody else on the ship was awake yet. You were certain that would cause a lot of questions between captain and crew.

Alone in the tub, the water felt much warmer. You could feel yourself sweating, and you were starting to get nauseous. Your body felt like it was on fire, but you forced yourself to keep your body submerged. You desperately wanted to get out, just for a second. But you couldn’t. You refused to give this parasitic virus even a moment of rest. Law was right. You were not weak.

He came back into the room with a bowl of soup, and your nausea increased just from seeing the steam rolling off of it.

Bile rose up your throat and into your mouth at the smell of the hot dumplings. You leaned over the side of the tub. “Law, I think-”

Law quickly put the bowl down and grabbed a trash can, his skilled fingers wrapping around your hair and holding it back just as you emptied your stomach into the bin.

“It’s okay,” Law soothed. “You’re okay.”

Once you were finally done, he set the trash can aside and grabbed a rag to help you get cleaned up. “That’s a good sign,” he said, brushing your stringy hair away.

You gave a light laugh. “How are you not completely disgusted with me right now? I’m a mess.”

“I could never be disgusted with you.” His voice was so caring and soft, you almost broke out in tears.

“Soup,” you choked out, desperate to change the subject as tears welled in your eyes. You didn't want to be physically and emotionally vulnerable with him right now. One was enough for him to handle.

He gave you a small knowing smirk but didn’t say anything. Instead, he rested the soup bowl on the edge of the tub and climbed back in with you again.

You reached for a bowl, but he intercepted your hands and pulled you into his chest instead. “Give yourself a moment to recuperate,” he said. “How’s the water feel?”

“Hot,” you groaned, but you nuzzled your head into his chest. “You’re a nice addition though.”

He trailed his finger up and down your spine, both of you laying against each other in silence. You could almost fall asleep like this if the water weren’t so uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, he tapped lightly on your back. “Ready for the soup?”

“I’m probably going to barf again,” you warned.

“I think I can handle it. I’m a doctor after all.”

You rolled your eyes, but picked up the bowl. It was so hot that you almost dropped it from shock, but Law grabbed your hands to steady it, and he nodded at you encouragingly.

The best course of action would probably be to drink the broth first, and then eat the dumplings. You pressed your lips to the rim of the bowl and inhaled. The steam burned your nostrils and the back of your throat. Every part of you was screaming in anguish, but you opened your mouth and tilted the bowl upwards.

The broth flooded your senses- first with flavor, and then immediately with a burning sensation. You sputtered and choked from the pain, and Law pulled the bowl away from you as you coughed, attempting to clear your airway. You tried to settle yourself down, but you couldn’t figure out what was wrong. It was like you were choking and hyperventilating all at once. There was too much air, yet not enough.

Law put the bowl of soup on the edge of the tub and began rubbing your back, trying to get you to calm down. You could see the panic in his eyes, despite his cool exterior.

“What hurts?” He asked urgently. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” you said between coughs. “Just burns.”

After another few minutes, you finally calmed down enough to breathe without coughing. “Let’s try again,” you offered.

“I hate being so useless,” Law said. “You’re working so hard and I can’t even do anything to help.”

“What are you talking about?” you scoffed. “You’re the only thing keeping me going. Every ounce of me wants to give up. And I would’ve if it weren’t for you.”

“That’s not what I-”

“Being a doctor is more than just operations, okay? You’re doing the best you can. Cut yourself some slack, Trafalgar Law.” The amount of energy you had to use just to form those words was making you a little dizzy, but you didn’t regret it. “Now give me that soup.”

It burned going down. You wanted to scream and cry and curse, but you didn’t. Even with tears streaming down your face, you drank the entire bowl. You could feel your stomach bubbling, trying to decide if it should reject the liquid again, but it stayed down.

Law moved you to the shower again, and you let the hot water rush over your skin while he refilled the tub. The water from the showerhead still burned, but it was more like a tingling sensation now. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. You’d mention it to Law later; you didn’t want to inconvenience him with possible bad news at the moment.

“Ready to move back to the tub?” he asked, poking his head into the shower.

You gave a weak nod and pulled yourself to your feet. You began to take a step, but stumbled and fell. Law closed the gap between you in an instant, catching you and keeping you steady before you hit the ground.

“You’re standing,” Law said, looking at you as if you had just performed a miracle. “You haven’t stood on your own since you got into bed last night.”

You gave him a smile. “Help me to the bath? I don’t think I’m quite ready to walk on my own.”

“You’re standing, though! Do you know how big of a deal this is?” You could hear the excitement in Law’s voice, which sparked your own joy.

“Tell me.” You took a step towards the bath, your arm wrapped around Law for support.

“You don’t understand,” Law said. “Bronclima takes your energy from you and you never get it back as long as it’s alive. If you’re regaining energy, then…” He helped you into the tub, afraid to say the last part. He was scared to hope for the best outcome.

The water felt warm against your skin, but in an almost pleasant way now. You sat down and sunk into the water so that your entire body up to your shoulders was submerged once again.

A blue hue emitted around the room, and Law ran another scan on your body and you closed your eyes and enjoyed the steamy atmosphere.

“Clear,” Law mumbled. “It’s clear.” You could hear the scan being run again, and the soft positive beep of no issues being found.

“Am I cured, doctor?” you hummed, your eyes still closed.

“It’s gone,” Law whispered, hardly believing it himself. That virus had a 15% survival rate and usually lasted for days. And you beat it in less than 10 hours.

“We can’t let this bathwater go to waste.” Your entire body suddenly felt very limp, worn out from what you had just put it through. “Come lay with me.”

“In the bath?” Law raised an eyebrow, but you held a hand out, beckoning him in. You knew he couldn’t say no to you after all you had been through.

He gingerly stepped into the tub and rested his back against the wall of the tub. You felt his tattooed arms wrap around you and pull you up onto his chest. You rested on him, the water feeling much more inviting now than it had earlier.

“This is nice,” you murmured, already starting to doze off to sleep.

“We can lay here as long as you want,” Law said. He held his composure until he was certain you were asleep, and then cried silent tears of relief until his eyes were red and puffy. He had been so close to losing you because of his negligence, and he vowed to never take you for granted again.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #law x reader #law x y/n #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #heart pirates #cozage #✧˚law✧˚

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waterless-witch · 8 months

Text

Of Knights and Demons

Chapter 4

TW: Rape/Non-con, Dark themes, forced marriages, violence and swearing. MINORS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU

This is my first ever fic so please be nice to me, I’ve also got it posted on A03 under the same name in case anybody would like to read it there.

You are the sole daughter of Byakuya Kuchiki, the sole heir to a noble family. Your father has broken from tradition with his refusal to marry you off against your wishes, instead wishing for you to find a husband of your own choosing. After years of arguing with not only your own family, but the other lords of your court all seems well. That is until a once thought dead knight returns with an army to take your home.

Souske Aizen, a man you once found kindness in has demanded that the two of you are to be wed, with your father still missing along with most of the guards you’re left with few options but to comply and hope that aid comes before anything can be set. How will you stop a man like Aizen from destroying your home and the people you care about? And who are these strange people with bone masks on their face?

Previous chapter

Sleep finds you much easier than you expected and you sleep soundly through the remainder of the night. You wake in the early morning and find that you're alone. Good, you prefer it that way, you don’t think that you could bear to see Aizen right now. You feel disgusting. Your skin is covered in dry sweat, your thighs and core are sticky with the evidence of your consummation, and your eyes are puffy from crying. Your whole body is sore and in pain you realize as you make your way to the bathroom to bathe.

You take note of a beautiful red dress placed carefully over the dresser, but the dress itself is not what catches your eye. No, what catches your eyes is the finely crafted crown that sits atop it. It’s made from beautiful thin crafted metal, adored with vines and flowers just as your wedding dress had been. It looked light and elegant. You walked past it, refusing to even touch it, you refused to wear it today, maybe ever. Definitely never you decide. You would do everything you could to let it be known that you didn’t want any of this. You would not play his happy wife, you’d do what he’d make you to keep the people you cared for safe but you would make sure he knew the depth of your hatred.

Once you entered the bathroom you looked at your reflection, which was a mistake. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were red and swollen. But that’s not what upset you. You choked on a cry as you looked over your body. Your neck was covered in brown and purple bruises, where you neck and shoulder meet there was a large mark from where he’d bitten you and drawn blood. Your hips held more bruises that were clearly from his fingers. It’d take days for all the bruising to subside and you couldn’t stop fresh tears from falling down your face. You turned away from the mirror, unable to look at yourself any longer. You began filling the tub with hot water.

Once the tub was filled you got in immediately even as the hot water burned your skin. You spent at least an hour scrubbing every part of your body raw. When the water went cold you drained it and replaced it with more scalding water and continued. No matter how much soap you used or how much you scrubbed your skin you simply didn’t feel clean enough. After giving up on your skin you began washing your hair and brushing out the knots. You didn’t want to look back in the mirror so you put it up in a sloppy braid while still in the tub. You got out of the tub and pulled on the nightgown from a few days ago, you weren’t going to leave the room but you didn’t want to sit around naked either.

You entered back into the bedroom and thought about what you’d do. You’d not been to keen on the idea of being shown around the manor before but you definitely didn’t want to now, you could already hear the lewd comments Grimmjow would make if he saw you. You thought about sitting by the widow again but you didn’t want to have to look at your reflection. Instead you just went back to bed, you pulled the blankets around yourself making a makeshift cocoon. It took you a good while to fall back asleep, mind to busy worrying about when Aizen would be back and what he’d make you do when he did show back up, but eventually sleep did find you.

You woke hours later to the sound of someone banging on your door. You shot up but didn’t move further than that. You waited quietly, after a few minutes the banging sounded again. “Hey!” You heard Grimmjow shout from the other side. He’d never knock like that unless he was telling you that Aizen wanted to see you and you had already decided hours ago that you would not be doing that. “Look, if you don’t want to come out I-'' he said clearly out of his element and struggling for what to say, “I get it…” To say you were confused would be an understantment, but he continued, “But you have to fucking eat, I’ll get someone to bring something up just tell me what you want.” You didn’t move, you didn’t want to see him or anyone for that matter. After another couple minutes of silence you heard him pound his fist into the door “Stubborn bitch.” He mumbled to himself.

Your eyes narrowed even when it seemed like he was being nice to you he had such a backwards way of doing so that you couldn’t tell what was going on. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you heard him start to pace again and mumble under his breath. You laid back down to sleep, listening to Grimmjow’s footsteps. Strangely it calmed you, lulling you back to sleep quickly and without any of the nauseating thoughts from earlier.

The next time you woke up the sun had already set. The sound of the door closing echoed through the room. You sat up only to see Aizen had returned. Instantly you felt sick as his eyes fell to you, he looked you up and down before cocking his head, “While you look lovely I much prefer how I’d left you this morning.” He tells you casually. You keep your mouth shut, staring daggers at him as he strips from his shirt. “I missed you at supper, not feeling well?” He taunts you with a smirk before stalking closer to your shared bed.

You try to crawl away from him but he catches your ankle and pulls you back, flipping you so you're facing him once again. “Please don’t,” you beg willing to try anything to keep his hands off you. “Everything still hurts from yesterday ple-” he cuts you off with a dominating kiss. Your heart sinks and you know what's coming.

He pulls away from you just enough to shush you as his hand moves to tangle in your hair, pulling harshly so that you're looking up at him. “I’ll have you every night until my heir grows inside you, even then I doubt I'll be able to stop. Not when you cry so sweetly for me.” He says, hand still gripping your hair. You feel tears start to form in your eyes again, you know there’s nothing you can say or do that would make him stop. You don’t want to have his children but how could you possibly fight him? Even if you could somehow stop him he’d just have Renji killed and you don’t think you could handle that guilt.

True to his word he’d had you again. Similarly to the previous night he took his time preparing you, forcing you to orgasam twice before he even considered putting his cock in you. You hated it, how he could turn your body against you with such ease. You also came to realize, as he slammed into you just as rough as before, that he liked when you cried. He wanted you to beg him to stop and tell him that you couldn’t take it, he reveled in it. You want to stop crying, hold out and take some of that enjoyment away from him but every time you try to he just gets rougher. He forces you to look at him with a strong grip in your hair as he slams his hips into yours and releases inside you again.

Only this time he doesn’t pull out of you, instead his hand slips between your legs to start rubbing small tight circles on your clit. Your hand shots out before you can stop it to try and grab his wrist to make it stop, you're already overstimulated and you're not fully thinking. Before you can even grab at him the hand fisted in your hair pulls so hard you're afraid he’ll pull a chunk of it out. You cry out and your hands whip to try and pry his hand out of your hair all the while keeping up with his stimulation of your body.

Heavy tears roll down your face, “Please no more.” You whimper out in a way that sounds pathetic to even you.

He doesn't stop, not that you really expected him to. “Gods you’re so pretty when you beg.” He mumbles before leaning over you and kissing you. Between the fullness in your core and his thumb stimulating your clit the knot in your abdomen was building much faster than it had previously. You can’t stop the cries and whines which Aizen seems all too happy to swallow though the rough kiss. It took a minute more before that knot had snapped your back arched as you cried out before sinking back into the bed feeling completely ruined. He pulled away with one quick peck on the cheek before pulling out of you.

He pulled you up to him and laid the two of you down the same as the previous night. One of his hands runs soothingly up and down your back. You want to move away from him or tell him to stop but you don’t have the energy nor do you want to risk upsetting him. You fall asleep quickly and when you wake he’s gone yet again.

~~~

The days that followed happened in the same fashion, you wake up alone and spend the morning hours trying to clean away filth that you knew you’d never be able to, go back to sleep, wake up to Grimmjow trying to get you to come out or to eat something, go back to sleep followed by Aizen having you how ever he sees fit for that night. Even though you’d been sleeping all day you felt exhausted all the time and even though you know you should be eating you couldn’t.

The very thought of food made you sick, not that you would venture out to find it even if it didn’t. Somewhere in the back of your head you screamed at yourself that something was deeply wrong with you but you couldn’t make yourself care enough. Maybe you were going insane, you thought to yourself bitterly.

On the seventh day since your wedding you were making your way back to the bed after bathing when your door slammed open, hitting the wall and reverberating off the hinges. You whirl around expecting to see Aizen but instead Grimmjow stands in your doorway looking positively pissed. You gape at him for a moment not knowing what to say or do. His eyes fall to your neck and in turn his jaw clenched in anger. You quickly realize he’s looking at the marks on your neck and flush in embarrassment. “Get out.” You tell him, pointing towards the door.

His eyes flick back up to meet yours, “You look like shit.” He comments bluntly. You can feel yourself getting angry, you knew you weren’t a pretty sight at the moment but you also didn’t need him to barge in and tell you about it.

You breathe an angry huff out, “Great observation now leave.” You bite back, you don’t know what he wants and you don’t care, he has no right to barge into your room and make fun of you.

He just keeps staring at you until the rattling of metal on metal sounds from the hallway, “Hurry up!” He barks, turning his head to throw over his shoulder. You hear a woman sigh.

Your eyes widen instantly recognizing the sound before she even speaks, “Now don’t rush me boy! I’m old, this is as fast as I go!” The women grumbled back. Her name was Lista, she had been one of the servants at your home, she was a kind woman in her mid fifties with long coiled brown hair that had begun to gray around the roots. She had worked in your family’s garden and since you were a young child you’d often found yourself in her company. She would teach you how much water each plant needed, how to weed the flower beds, and she’d answer every little question your child brain could come up with. She was foreign born and sometimes would tell you about plants that grew in her native home or about how to grow different kinds of food. Sometimes she’d even bring in sketches of said plants that she’d have her husband draw up for you. Once you got older you always made sure to slip her some extra silver or bring her some of her favorite foods from the kitchen. She had a sweet tooth and as a child you loved to share your desserts with her as you sat outside in the heat.

She came into the room pushing a small metal cart with food and a few cups on it. Her hazel eyes meet yours and instantly her expression softened. “Oh baby,” she said sadly as she crossed the room to pull you into a tight hug, “He said you haven’t been eating but look at you.” Lista placed her hand on your head and held you tightly. She was right of course, you’d lost a noticeable amount of weight from not eating.

Before you could stop yourself you were crying into her shoulder, as if a damn had broken you let every one of your emotions flow. She held you for a long time, just shushing you and running her hand down your hair not unlike she used to do when you’d fall as a child and she’d carry you inside to get bandaged. You heard the door close quietly and eventually composed yourself. As you pulled away Lista gave your forehead and light and loving kiss. “I don’t understand, why are you here? What’s going on?” You asked, face still wet from crying.

“You wouldn’t let me help you so I had to track down someone who could.” Grimmjow said from behind Lista, he sounded irritated but far less so than normal. “Which was not an easy task since none of them wanted to give me any kind of information about anything.” He said leaning back against the door.

Lista rolled her eyes, she had never been one to shy away from any kind of confrontation and wasn’t about to start now. “Now listen here boy,” She said to Grimmjow earning her a growl from him, “You have to think about it from our point. Y'all barge in here, kill a whole lot of us, take our lady as a war bride then have the gall to demand to know who she’s close with,” She said pointing her finger at him. “Doesn’t really scream that your tryin’ to help the poor girl.” She finished.

Grimmjow's nose crinkled and his eyebrows furrowed but he didn’t say anything, which was unusual. Lista gently pulled you towards the small cart of food, “Listen to me little lady,” she said, voice much softer than when she’d talked to Grimmjow, “Ya gotta eat, I can’t imagine how awful it is for you here but you have to. People are gonna start to notice that you're not.”

Grimmjow scoffed from behind the two of you and you turned slightly to look at him, “Yeah they are, if I noticed your husband will too, and I can garentee that he’ll force you to eat about as kindly as he fucks you.” Your face twisted in disgust as did Listas.

“The boys right but ignore him.” Lista began as she reached for a small mug on the tray drawing your attention from Grimmjow.

“Can you stop calling me that?” He interrupted angrily. Neither one of you turned around to face him.

“No,” She answered, “Now hush.” You heard him growl again but it was much more half hearted than the previous one. “I had the magisters make this for you, you need to drink it daily but it will keep him from putting a child in you.” Your eyes widen at the realization. Lista gently places the mug in your hands, it's warm and it doesn’t smell at all pleasant but you’re so happy to have it. “The boy has promised to get it to you each day and I’ll make sure that the kitchen staff have it made for you, do you understand?” She asks looking into your eyes.

You nod your head quickly, “Lista, I’ll never be able to repay you for this.” You tell her genuinely. She reaches forward and gives your forehead another light kiss.

“Just eat my dear, don’t let that man kill you.” You nod again and promise her that you will, “I have to go before someone sees I’m gone, but I’ll come back when I can.” Lista says before giving your hand a squeeze. You exchange goodbyes and another hug before Grimmjow opens the door for her, letting her out before closing it behind her.

Grimmjow stares at you for a while before it ticks in your brain that he’s put in a lot of work to make this happen for you. You don’t understand why he’d bother or what he’s seeking by doing so but you’re grateful regardless. “Thank you, again.” You say to him before downing the tea quickly.

He continues to stare at you while you place the mug down, “I already told you not to thank me princess.” He says with no real bite, you think it might be the first time you’d heard him talk without anger or irritation, besides of course when he’d make lewd comments at you but still.

You can’t help but wonder why he’d done it, “Can I-“ you started not really knowing how to say what you wanted, “Can I ask why you went through all the trouble?” You asked quietly. He might not want your thanks but you did want some answers, and maybe if he’d been in a good enough mood to help you he might give you some answers.

“Eat.” He commanded crushing your hope for answers. You roll your eyes at him but pick up your fork and knife and do as he says. It’s been a long time since you’ve eaten anything so you don’t quite eat what you normally would, stomach no doubtably having shrunken a bit. Grimmjow doesn’t leave, there’s an awkward air in the room as you can all but feel his eyes looking at every bruise and mark that Aizen had left on you. “You want him dead don’t you?” He asks out of nowhere.

You stop all movement and look up at him through your lashes. He’s not angry, he’d gone back to lounging against the door and was picking at his nails with his thumb seemingly uninterestedly. When you don’t answer his gaze flicks up to you, “I- uh, well,” you stutter, placing your utensils back down. You have no idea what to answer with. He’s been nicer to you as of late but you still don’t think that you can tell him that you want his leader dead.

He gets tired of your stuttering and spits out, “Well, if you do want him dead you should hurry up and do it before he starts questioning why you can’t get pregnant.” He says it all with such a casual tone as if you were talking about the weather or something else equally as unimportant.

It’s your turn to scoff at him, “Yeah, that’s something I can manage.” You quip back sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. How could you possibly hope to kill a man that could cripple a kingdom?

"You could,” He says, pushing off the wall and walks towards you. He picks up the knife from the cart and reaches for you. You sure he’s about to cut you and you try to pull back but he grabs the back of your head and pulls you closer. He brings the knife close to your eye but doesn’t touch you with it, “The next time he climbs on top of you, put a knife through his eye,” he says before lowering the knife to the center of your neck, “or through his throat. Or learn to live with him.” He says looking down at you, your eyes lock with his and he keeps you firmly in place, “Either way enough of this pathetic damsel shit.” He releases his hold on your head and grabs your arm, placing the knife in your hand.

You think for a long moment and Grimmjow doesn’t move, he just watches you run problems through your head. You shake your head and look up to him, “I can’t, what if I fail?” You ask even though you already know the answer. Aizen would kill Renji, and anyone else he knew you were close to, like Momo or Lista.

Grimmjow shrugs and turns around and starts walking away, “He won’t kill you if that’s what you're asking.” He says in an annoyed tone.

“I know he won’t kill me but he will kill Renji.” You say to his back. He stops walking and is silent for a minute, clearly thinking about something.

He looks at you over his shoulder and his eyes narrow. “Your little knight’s not here anymore.” He informs you. Your breath catches and your heart sinks.

You’d let Aizen do whatever he’d wanted with you and he’d still killed him? Your eyes glazed, “But I- I did what he wanted, I married him. He’s dead?” You say rapidly, tripping over your words the whole time.

Grimmjow scoffs and you think he’s going to insult you again but he doesn’t, “I never said he died.” He says in a harsh tone, “Your brave and valiant knight managed to escape along with an entire holding cell the night of your wedding.” He informs you like you're stupid for not knowing.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, “So he’s not dead?” You ask just to confirm with him. If what he’s saying is true that lifts a lot of weight off your shoulder, you might still be stuck here but at least if you don’t do something perfectly for Aizen he can’t kill Renji.

“Not yet,” he says with another shrug. “Can’t say he won’t be soon though, Aizen’s pissed, sent a whole group out after them. If they’re not back in three more days, me and my group switch with them.” You don’t know why he’s telling you all this but you think this is the most helpful that he’s been. “When he catches them it won’t be pretty, he doesn’t like to be fucked around with like that.” You don’t say anything back and he leaves the room.

You set the knife back on the cart. You think over everything that Grimmjow had told you, you know you can’t kill Aizen, he’s quicker than you, stronger than you and more battle ready than you’ll ever be. But there is another option now. You decide that you’ll bid you time and when the timing is perfect you’ll escape. It might take a while but you swear to yourself that you will. You’ll find your fathers camp and get away from here, Aizen can’t use you if he doesn’t have you. You start making plans on how to do so. Firstly, you decide, you need to figure out where you're going.

That means tomorrow you’ll have Grimmjow take you to the library so you can look over the books and records of where your border camps are. You’ll figure out how to get rid of your guards another day, but for now your feeling much more hopeful.

~~~

Grimmjow brings you supper a few hours later and you eat as much of it as you can manage. Aizen returns a few hours later and the rest of the night follows the same path as all the previous. Only this time you’re not scared to get pregnant. You are still scared of him and what he could do to you but you no longer have the threat of hypothetical children hanging over you. When he finishes with you he doesn’t immediately pull you to sleep like normal, instead his eyes rack down your body causing you to shiver under his gaze as you catch your breath. “You should let yourself enjoy this more.” He says to you.

You look at him before huffing a depressed sounding laugh and looking away. You don’t want to enjoy this with him. You already hate how your body responds to him; you don’t want to give your mind up to him as well. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying love making with your husband.” He states as if it's a matter of fact.

Slowly your eyes look back to him and you give a small chuckle. “This isn’t love making and it’s certainly not love.” You tell him back firmly.

Aizen’s quiet for a moment, considering your words, “It will be,” He tells you, your eyebrows knit together, “Not today, not tomorrow, not for a long time but you will enjoy what I do to you. What we are.” He says and you shake your head lightly, you will not, you’d sooner throw yourself from the roof. “You will, this is your life now, you can fight it all you want but you will.” He tells you as his hand runs up your leg. You try to pull back but he doesn’t let you. He pulls you down the bed to him before snaking his hand under your back and pulling you so that you're kneeling over his lap.

Your eyes widen and he smirks at you. His hands fall to your hips and give them a light squeeze before he flips you around so that you're sitting in his lap with your back pressed to his chest. You try to move from his hold but he forces you back with a strong hand atop your thigh. You feel his cock twitch underneath you making panic rise in you. His free hand trails from up your stomach to your breast. You shake your head and he chuckles as he begins to flick your nipple. You can’t help but whine in his hold, you’re already so sensitive from everything he’d done to you before this that all your nerves are heightened.

The hand on your thigh slides downwards, between your legs you choke on a gasp as he runs his knuckles along the length of your folds, lightly grazing your clit with every pass. “Please,” you whine, he just hums to you as he continues. “Please stop.” You plead, voice barely above a whisper.

He brings his mouth to your ear, “Beg me to fuck you.” He demands warm breath fanning your ear before he nips at it. You shake your head in denial, you won’t do that, you can’t do that. “Beg me to fuck you,” he repeats, “Or we’ll stay like this all night.” His fingers begin circling your clit in earnest. “I’ll have you coming on my fingers until you pass out and even then, I’ll keep going until you wake back up.” You're crying again, your hands are on each of his wrists trying to stop him but you're not strong enough to pull him away and he just ignores you, “I can keep you here as long as I like.” He tells you.

He doesn’t stop and you try your best to hold out. By the time he pulls a second orgasm from your body you’re crying hard and you throw your head back on his shoulder, arching to try to get away, his hand at your sex doesn’t stop, it doesn’t even slow. You're so overwhelmed and his attention is starting to hurt, you’ve come twice this round and twice the previous and its all just too much for you. He kisses the side of your head gently compared to how he moves his hands. You’re so desperate to get him to stop that you give in, “Please.” You say words leaving you breathlessly and barely audible.

Even though you’re not looking at his face you know he’s smiling as he hums to you, “What was that love? Did you say something?” He asks even though you both know he’s heard you and is just toying with you. You whine pathetically, of course he’s toying with you, it's what he adores most.

You swallow thickly and shutter, his hands are still moving against you making it all the more difficult to focus on the words coming out of your mouth. “Please!” You all but shout.

He gives a small chuckle against your head, “Please what, my love?” He asks and you grit your teeth so hard it feels like they might break. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” His cock twitches again beneath you showing just how much he’s enjoying breaking you down like this, how much he enjoys humiliating you.

Your jaw tightens as more tears of frustration fall down your face. You’re sure you look like a mess but you take a deep breath and say, “Please, Aizen...” He takes a deep breath in as you continue, “Please fuck me.” You beg him in a whisper, you're flushed and humiliated. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone the way you do him at this moment.

His hands are on your face, pulling you to meet his lips, back arched against his chest, with bruising force. He moves your head how he sees fit as you try desperately to catch your breath, feeling almost relieved that his hand is off your core. You can’t help but twitch in overstimulation. One of his hands leaves your face and trails down your body, for a moment you're afraid that he’s going to start teasing you again but he moves past your folds. He’s lining his cock up to you again and you pull away for his lips ready to beg yet again for him to please just give you a moment of rest, you know that he won’t stop but you can at least try to take a breather.

But he doesn’t give you the chance to get the words out. Aizen thrusts up into you and from this angle he hits so much deeper. You cry out as he bottoms out, it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as it had the first time of the night but it still wasn’t exactly pleasant. He breathes your name out and stills, you take the opportunity to take a deep breath. “See that wasn’t so hard now was it?” He asks in a low tone. You squeeze your eyes shut as both his hands rise to your breasts, he teases your nipples making you whine as he stays still inside you. “You will learn to enjoy this sweet girl, I swear it to you.” He tells you before he starts moving inside you, it's not nearly as rough as he had been, not to say that it was gentle by any means but it didn’t hurt like it had previously.

It takes a while for him to find it but after a few minutes he finds that spot inside you that makes you see stars and you can’t stop the lewd sounding moan that it rips from you and your hips involuntary buck with his own. You hand shoots to cover your mouth in shock and you still your movements. Aizen doesn’t let you keep your hand there for long though, he pulls your hand away, bringing it up and giving it a small peck, his other hand falls to your waist to keep you moving in time with him. “I want to hear you my love, I want to know how much you like having me inside you.” He says still trusting inside you, taking special care to thrust just right to keep that spot stimulated. You couldn’t form words and you shake your head in denial as the pain starts ebbing away much to your hatred. You don’t want to enjoy this, you want to scream and you think you’d rather have him fuck you rough than take you in a way that forces you to betray yourself.

He chuckles warmly into your ear and after a while gets you to keep moving in time with him. Then his hand moves from your waist to your core and begins to rub your clit in time with his thrust. You gasp loudly and try to pull away from him, he won't let you though and you know it’s futile. You don’t know why he wants you to enjoy this but he does and he takes care to make sure that he gets what he wants. You can’t think about anything but how his cock is moving inside you as you wither and moan his name in little broken cries. Quickly that knot starts building and you're more of a moaning mess, you're still moving in time with him and can’t form enough thoughts to stop. “Feeling good?” He asks breathlessly with a smile. You hate how smug he sounds, how happy he is that your body is feeling pleasure from him. It snaps something in you and you let your movements stutter to a stop and you regain the ability to think for a moment.

You know he’s only doing all this to upset and humiliate you further. You pull yourself together just enough to tell him, “I hate you.” In a broken whisper. He laughs and picks up both the pace of his hand and his thrusts causing you to scream his name out. His other hand starts forcibly grinding your hips into his own again. His thrusts start losing rhythm and his hand spreads up further. The knot inside you snaps and your unable to stop yourself from sobbing and arching your back with your head on his shoulder as he fucks you through it, still toying with your clit the whole time. He finishes inside you for the second time a few thrusts later, hand finally coming to a rest between your legs. You fall back into him, eyelids heavy and tears still lightly falling.

He rubs your legs soothingly as he untangles himself from you and gently lays you down on the pillows. He leans down and kisses you softly before pulling away to look in your eyes. “Hate me all you want, lie to me and yourself if you must but you did enjoy that.” You avert your eyes not wanting to look at him. He kisses your forehead then laid down next to you and drapes his arm around you.

Sleep does not come as easily as it had been. Instead you laid awake upset. You know it was involuntary but he was right, you had enjoyed that. You were a mess for him, you matched his thrusts and moaned for him. You begged him to fuck you. You hated yourself for how weak you were. How weak you are. You couldn’t pull him off you, you couldn’t kill him and you couldn’t even stop him from manipulating you to do whatever he wanted.

Eventually sleep does come and surprisingly you dream, something you haven’t done in weeks, perhaps you’d been too exhausted. In your dream you are with Aizen again as you just had been, except you're not fighting him at all. You're grinding your hips in time with him and moaning obscenely, his pace picks up and you loop your arm around his head to hold onto his hair to ground yourself.

Except the hair in your hand is different from Aizen’s, it's not styled the same and seems a bit shorter. You turn to look back but a hand grabs your chin and keeps you looking straight ahead. “Something the matter princess?” A voice that is very much not Aizen’s rasps into your ear. Instead the voice belongs to Grimmjow and the last thing you remember from your dream is his strange bone mask pressed against you.

You wake with a shaky breath and wide eyes. Your heart is beating wildly out of control as you try to wrap your mind around what just happened. Behind you there’s the sound of metal rattling and you go to shoot up and see what’s there but a hand shoves you back down. Your back hits the mattress with enough force to knock the air from your lungs and you gasp. You take notice that the hand in question is pushing the blanket from the bed against your upper chest. Your eyes shoot up to meet a set of azure eyes staring back at you.

You flushed being this close to him even though you know logically that he had no way of knowing what your brain had just conjured up of him. Grimmjow’s leaning over you, one knee rested on the bed to be able to reach you and keep you in place. “Unless you're planning on giving me a show I recommend keeping yourself covered princess.” He tells you bluntly as he slowly pulls away from you.

You’re left gaping at him for a moment before your mind starts processing what’s going on. “Why are you here?” You ask in a high pitched tone as your arm moves to hold the blank in place over your chest so you can sit up. It’s early morning, you're still naked and he shouldn’t be in here.

He looks at you a second before gesturing behind him to a plate and cup of steaming tea on your nightstand. “Your hag couldn’t make it up so I brought your food.” He said, irritation thick in his voice.

It clicked into place that he’d promised to bring you the tea every morning and made sense enough. “Oh, t-thank you.” You stutter out quickly not being able to look at him and flushing more in embarrassment. You were embarrassed that you’d thought of him like that even if you were unconscious. You couldn’t deny that he was handsome even with the strange bone mask and near constant scowl, but he was also an ass and was rude to you and you didn’t want to think about him like that. He had kidnapped you and brought you to Aizen. He antagonized you for fun and got angry when you didn’t react in a fun enough way for him. He had been kind a few times but he always took such a bastardized approach to it that you couldn’t tell why he’d done it. He made little sense to you so it made even less sense that you’d be having lewd dreams about him.

You could feel his gaze and your eyes flicked to his for just long enough to see them narrow before you looked away again. You don’t know what gave you away but he can tell that something’s wrong. “What’s wrong with you today?” He asks harshly, eyes still fixated on you.

You swallow and try to think of something to say, nothing comes to you and he starts stalking towards you. In a panic you say, “Nothing!” A little too loudly. Your response makes him stop walking but he cocks an eyebrow and scoffs like he doesn’t believe you, “I’m not wearing any clothes can you please get out?” You say with a bit of distress in your voice as he stays firmly planted. He eyes your exposed neck, shoulders and what he can see of your chest making you tug the blanket higher before he rolls his eyes and turns away. He leaves without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You wait a second before moving to make sure he’s not going to come back in before you reach over and drink the still hot tea quickly. You decide to go wash and get dressed before eating. You planned to have Grimmjow take you to the library so you could look over the geography books and maps and start to figure out where your fathers camp might be. You bathe, trying and failing to make yourself seem clean and brush through your knotted hair leaving it to fall naturally. You dress in a black dress that was left for you with the same neckline as all the rest. You knew your hickies and love bites would be on display but there was little that you could do about that. You look at the beautiful crown that sits permanently on the dresser and leave it there. You won’t wear it. You won’t have anything to do with it. You slip on your flats and quickly eat as much as you can manage.

With a deep breath you go to the heavy door and pull it open. Grimmjow is leaning beside it and his head immediately snaps to you. His eyes widen and he pushes off the wall to fully see you. He looks you up and down twice before his eyes settle on yours and he smirks at you, “Well, look at you all dressed up and pretty again.” He says, making you flush a bit, you’re used to him calling you princess but you were not prepared for him to call you pretty. It’s such a simple thing to say but it gets a reaction out of you which only makes his smirk grow. “What do I owe the honor?” He says smirk never leaving his face.

You keep eye contact with him refusing to keep backing away. “If you don’t mind, I'd like to go to the library.” You tell him. He seems to consider it for a moment and for a second you worry that he’ll refuse but he doesn’t.

He lets out a sigh, “Fine, it figures though, you finally wanna go somewhere and it's the most boring place in the manor.” He said with a roll of his eyes. He led you to the library silently after that, you hadn’t seen anyone on your walk which was reliving in a way. He held the door open for you, the library was huge, far larger than the one at your own manor. Rows upon rows of shelves line the room, all with little engraved plaques to tell you which genres the shelves held. As you walked through the library looking for what you needed Grimmjow trailed behind you, running his fingers lazily over the spines of the books and messing with them as he went.

After a while you had a decent stack of books about previous wars of your kingdom, localized weather, localized geography, as well as a few books on local plants and a book about how to grow different crops to make your pile look less suspicious. Grimmjow, you noticed, didn’t pick anything up but you didn’t give him much thought. You strolled over to a small sitting area adored with a few plush sitting chairs as well as a matching chaise and some small tables. Grimmjow flops down on the chaise as you set your books on the table and sit yourself. “Is this really what you’re gonna do all day?” He asked, looking bored already.

You just shrugged at him, “I like to read.” You say as you pick up the book about wars, hoping to find something about where to locate your father, perhaps see if there was an area that they often came back to for their temporary camps. Grimmjow scoffed and threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. You read the first two chapters before you heard him signing and shifting around. You ignored him and got a single page read before he interrupted you.

“What are you reading?” He asked in an annoyed voice like you were inconveniencing him. You looked at him over the top of your book to see he was staring at you.

“It’s about history.” You said, you didn’t want to specify to him what kind of history. While he had been kind a few times and he’d all but told you to kill Aizen you still didn’t want to chance fate and have him report what you were planning to do back to someone.

He raised a brow at you, “They all about history?” He sneered looking at your stack of books. You were a little worried that he had seen through your white lie but you steeled your face trying not to let anything show.

You shook your head lightly, “No, there’s a few about weather patterns and geography but most of them are about local plants and crop growing.” He rolled his eyes and stretched while you went back to reading quietly.

You made it another few pages before he spoke up again. “Why plants?” He sneered at you. You look back over at him and he’s resting with his hands behind his head. He’s looking at you again and it makes you wonder if he’d looked away at all.

You fidget under his gaze and shrug, “I like gardening.” You say, he scrunches his nose and furrows his brows at you, “In the warmer months I like to be out in the gardens and take care of the plants, it's nice.” You elaborate to him.

He gives a light laugh, “Of course you do, princess.” He says and it's your turn to look confused at him. “It’s fitting is all.” He tells you, “Of course the prettiest little princess likes flowers and sunshine and shit.” He says and you can’t tell if he means it as an insult or not.

Instead you tell him, “I’m not a princess, stop calling me that.” His face broke out in another smirk and he flipped himself to lay on his side, head resting in his hand.

“Closest thing I’ve ever seen to a princess.” He says smirk growing a bit, “You’re a pretty girl with pretty little dresses that grew up being waited on hand and foot in a manor. You’ve got a strong family name and despite it manage to be the most delicate little thing I’ve ever seen. For fucks sake you had your own little knight and everything. What part of that doesn’t scream princess?” Your face flushes at his words, it's the third time today he’s called you pretty and you really don’t know how to react to it and you’re sure he knows it. It makes your cheeks burn every time and your pretty sure that he’s only doing it to mess with you.

You roll your eyes and he gives a chuckle, “None of that makes me a princess.” You tell him stubbornly. Your face is still burning red but you don’t want to let him win.

He barks another laugh at you, “I guess you’re right,” he says with a light shrug, “You’re a queen now aren’t you? Technically speaking.” He says with a cock of his head. Your eyes narrow at him, and you decide you're done talking to him and resume reading. Or you at least try too. You can feel him looking at you even if you won't look at him. It makes you fidget and you’ve read the same paragraph four times and you still have no idea what it says. Your mind wanders back to the crown on the dresser. He was right, technically but you didn’t like the thought. You didn’t want to be Aizen’s queen, the thought depressed you.

You tried not to think about it and focus on the task at hand but between Grimmjow’s gaze and his words you were thoroughly distracted. You think about what it actually is to be a queen, you certainly don’t feel like one, you can’t see yourself up there with the previous queens. You think about your escape plan and wonder if it’s actually possible, you don’t know that it is but you’d rather risk dying out there than to stay here with Aizen for any longer than you have to.

Then you start thinking about Grimmjow and what an enigma he was to you. He was rude and bold but he could be kind at times. From the first night you’d meet him in the forest he’d been like that. He’d offered you advice but refused to answer any questions and treated you however he felt like. He’d gone out of his way to find Lista to help with the tea and to get you to eat but only after he said you looked like shit and complained that you were boring. Then today he’d started calling you pretty but only in ways that were used to fluster and embarrass you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he actually thought you were pretty or if he was saying it to upset you.

You stopped yourself from that train of thought, you told yourself that you didn’t care why he did it and that you wanted him to stop. What business was it of yours what he thought of how you looked, you were sure he thought you were pathetic already. What did it matter if you were pretty and pathetic? He frustrated you worse than anyone else ever had so why couldn’t you stop thinking about him? You chalk it up to that stupid dream and that you’ll forget about it in a few days.

You reread the same paragraph for the fifth time before he spoke again, “You read a lot before all this?” He asked laying on his back with a thump. “Seems super boring.” He looks at you out of the corner of his eye waiting for your response.

You set your book down on your lap and looked at him. “Yeah I did,” you think back to all the time you’d spent reading with Momo or all the books about flowers and plants from other parts of the world. It felt like such a long time ago even though it had only been a few weeks. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever be that girl again, if you’ll ever lay around and read with Momo or if you’ll ever go out to the gardens and pull the weeds out of the flowerbeds. Then you start thinking about your mom. She loved to read and started teaching you when you were three years old, she had always been so patient with you as a child. You remembered when she first got sick the two of you would sit together and read for hours, when she began getting sicker you would read aloud to her so she could relax and listen.

A tear slipped down your face and you were quick to wipe it away, you looked down at your hands and tried to focus on not making yourself more upset. You weren’t sure if Grimmjow had seen your tears but if he did he didn’t say anything about it. “Who taught you?” He asked, looking up to the ceiling.

“My mother.” You said simply, you didn’t want to tell him about your mother. It felt too personal. You didn’t get to keep much of your life private as of late but that felt too private to share with him or Aizen or any of them. He just hummed to indicate that he’d heard you. “Why don’t you go find something to read? You wouldn’t be as bored.” You offer to him wanting to change the subject.

Grimmjow turns to look at you, his eyes narrow and his eyebrows furrowed. You meet his gaze in question. “I can’t.” He bites out angrily.

Your eyebrows shoot up, “You can’t read?” You ask, you knew a lot of servants and common people couldn’t but he just seemed so above it all. You didn’t know anything about his life but you had just figured that he was a knight or some kind of equivalent maybe from a good family but it seemed that wasn’t the case.

He growled and sat up, “I swear princess if you try to make fun of me I’ll-“ He starts to say before you cut him off.

“I’m not making fun of you! I’m sorry, I just thought-“ You cut yourself off struggling for the right words. You didn’t want to make the situation worse by accident but you wanted him to know you weren’t making fun of him. It wasn’t his fault if no one had taught him. “I don’t know, you just seem like you come from some high family or something, I just figured…” You let yourself tail off. He huffed a laugh and you chanced a glance at him, he had leaned back and didn’t look like he was about to rip your head off anymore. “I’m sorry.” You tell him.

He looks back up at you and for a brief second you think about offering to teach him how to read, but ultimately decide against it, he’s not your friend and you have things you need to focus on. He sighs, “Your fine princess, don’t apologize.” He told you before laying back down. He doesn’t bother you too much the rest of the time in the library, in fact your pretty sure he fell asleep for a few hours but that’s fine, it gives you time to examine what you need to in silence.

By the time your ready to leave you have a faint idea of a place your father could be. There’s place high in the northern mountains near the border of your land that would get heavy use up until a few decades ago, it now sat abandoned but if they were fighting with Aizen and trying not to get captured it was a likely place to go. You couldn’t definitively say he was there but it was the best lead you had. You had no idea how to get there or where in the mountains it was but that was a problem for later.

You rose from your chair and stretched out with a yawn, your legs were sore from sitting so long in one position and your eyes were heavy from the strain of reading all day. You looked over to Grimmjow to find him staring at you lazily while still laying down. “Done for now?” He asks and you nod. He rises and leads you through the halls back to your room. Before you can get there you hear voices. Grimmjow's eyes narrow just as Nnoitra and a man you’ve never seen before round the corner.

They’re laughing about something but Nnoitra stops as he sees the two of you, he looks between the two of you for a second before that wolffish grin streaks across his face. “Well look who it is.” He says to the man with him. The other man is slightly shorter than Grimmjow with red hair. He wears a bone mask like the rest of them, it covers his chin and jaw and rises in twin spikes on the side of his head. He doesn’t say anything but he does look you up and down slowly.

“Piss off.” Grimmjow tells them, then stops a few steps in front of you which you're thankful for. There’s something about Nnoitra that terrifies you, maybe it's the way he looks at you like he wants to eat you alive or the way he talks to and about you like you're less than a person but none of it sits right with you.

I wasn’t talking to you,” Nnoitra says with an eye roll. He looks back to you, “I just didn’t expect to see her again. Figured she’d kill herself in all her misery.” He said with a laugh. “I owe Yammy four silver now, he said she’d have to come out sooner or later.” He said continuing to laugh, his red haired partner also gave a small chuckle. He looked down to your neck then to your chest. “Though maybe she’s not all that miserable, maybe she likes getting fucked like a whore.” He sneered at you. Your eyebrows shot up and you flushed in anger and embarrassment. You’re pissed at the very idea that you’d want any of this and the name he’d called you. You're anything but a whore, you’d never even been with a man or entertained the idea before Aizen had forced you to be his wife.

Grimmjow’s jaw tightens and he looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “Shut the fuck up, go take your pathetic ass somewhere else. Just because you can’t get your cock wet doesn’t mean we need to deal with your bitchy attitude.” Grimmjow says before grabbing your wrist and dragging you past the two men. The red haired man just watches you two push past but of course Nnoitra isn’t done yet.

He lets out a wild laugh, “Is that what’s going on here?” He asks, you’re confused by what he means until he continues. “Ya been fucking her while Lord Aizen’s not around?” You can hear the grin in his words without looking at him, “She’s got so many marks on her how would he know if you put one on her, smart really. I’d fuck her if I could get close too.” Nnoitra snorted and his partner laughed too.

Grimmjow releases your wrist and whirls around on Nnoitra, sword drawn and pointed sharply to his long neck before you can recognize what happened. “One more word. One more fucking word and I’ll have your head on the damn floor.” Grimmjow says voice low and threatening. Nnoitra held his hands up in surrender but kept smirking all the while. Grimmjow doesn’t move for a while, clearly thinking on whether or not to just kill him and be done with it but something convinces him not to.

He turns sharply and sheaths his sword before pushing you forward back towards your room. He’s silent until you're a ways away from the other two men. The whole way you're tense and thinking about Nnoitra, he scares you, badly. He’s unhinged and you're terrified that he’s going to hurt you one day, he’s all but said he would. “Don’t worry about him princess, we all know what he’s like and no ones going to let him come anywhere near you. Aizen would kill them.” He says trying to reassure you as you reach your door.

You can’t help but think about how he’ll be gone within two days and while you’re not friends he has made it clear that he won’t let anyone hurt you but you're unsure about the rest. What if whoever fills his place lets Nnoitra in? Or what if the replacements themselves are like him? Grimmjow had told you that not all of them were fully loyal to Aizen and you had no conceivable way to know who was and wasn’t. “And when you leave? What about then?” You ask, panic getting the better of you as you look up at him.

His eyebrows twitch upwards in an almost unnoticeable way, his eyes dart around your face before saying, “Like I said, Aizen would kill if something happened to you. While I’m gone Loly will be your guard.” You didn’t know who this Loly was and he seemed to realize that quickly. “You meet her once I think, black hair, pigtails. She’s kinda a bitchy.” He tells you.

You remember her from the day she’d brought you the dress. She hadn’t said anything to you and you were a bit surprised she was a guard but you didn’t voice that thought. “She’s not gonna be the nicest to you but she’s capable enough.” He reassured you. You nodded at him and he looked at you for a moment longer before opening your door for you.

~~~

Your night and following day played out the same as the previous. Aizen came back, did whatever he felt like with you, you woke up, dressed, ate, went to the library then came back only for Aizen to have you again. You started trying to rise earlier to avoid being naked when Grimmjow entered with your tea and breakfast. You're in the bathroom brushing out your hair after your bath when you hear the door open and close. You assume it's Grimmjow and finish with your hair and go to greet him. Yesterday he’d been the closest to nice he’d gotten. He didn’t outright insult you, besides calling you princess but you couldn’t rightfully tell if that was an insult or not. He’d bothered you a lot while you read but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind it. Sometimes you’d even welcome the brief distraction.

But when you leave your room it’s not Grimmjow who stands in the center of the room. It’s the red haired man who had been with Nnoitra the other day. He looks at you and smiles as you stay put in place. His eyes fall to the deep v-neck of your dress and he licks his lips making you want to cover yourself but you don’t have anything to do so. “Can I help you with something?” You ask, you’re getting nervous under his gaze.

His eyes flick up to you and he looks predatory. “Oh you’ll be helping me alright.” He says before making his way to you quickly. He grabs you by the hair and you go to shout for help but his other hand smacks across your face so hard you're thrown to the floor. He picks you up from the floor by your hair roughly and you feel blood trail down your chin and neck, your lip is burst and your face burns where he came in contact with it. “Who ya callin for? Grimmjow? You forget he’s one of us?” He mocks as he walks you back towards the wall.

He slams your back into the wall hard enough that you can’t breath for a second, he slots one of his legs between yours and you try to push him away. “Aizen’s gonna kill you if you touch me!” You shout, remembering what Grimmjow had said and praying that he stops.

This only makes the man pull your hair harder, pulling you to your tip toes and making you cringe back. “He’s never gonna know, how would he, like Nnoitra said you’re covered in marks. He won't notice one or two more.” You try to kick at him but he just pushes closer. “Never fucked a noble bitch before, can’t say I ain’t excited. You’re a fuckin pretty one too!” The hand not holding your hair grabbed your clothed breast and you again tried to scream, he smacked you again, not as hard as the first but it still hurt. “Don’t make me fuckin gag you.”

Tears fall down your face as he wraps his hand around your neck. You can’t breathe and he rocks his hips into yours while still smiling at you. You can feel that he’s hard but struggling gets harder and harder as you lose air. You’re terrified that your about to black out as stars dance across your vision. You try to pull his hand off your neck but he just smiles brighter and bucks into you harder. You can’t breathe and you’re sure that he’s about to kill you but he eases up a bit, you don’t know why and don’t have time to think about it as you suck in air. Suddenly your door slams open and the stranger's hand falls from your throat completely just in time for you to see the man get grabbed by his own hair and thrown to the floor. You take in a breath but hold it as you watch what happens in front of you.

He hits the floor hard and rolls onto his hands and knees. Above him Grimmjow is advancing on him in a silent rage. You’ve seen him angry before but never like this, he looks feral, like a beast hunting its prey and the red haired man must see it too because he starts crawling backwards and trying to reason with him. “Wait! Wait!” He shouts, still trying to escape. “We can work something out, come on! Grimmjow!” He yells before Grimmjow kicks him so hard he files back a few feet, cracking his head on the floor, spilling blood across the stone.

The man tries to get up and lunge at Grimmjow but he’s stopped before he can advance by a sword cutting into his side, knocking him sideways and back to the floor. He screams as he goes down and behind him Ulquiorra stands behind him with a completely natural and bored looking face. Neither of them look at you, instead they watch the bleeding and withering man on the floor.

Your legs are shaking, you lean back against the wall, legs buckling beneath you and you finally let the held breath escape you. Grimmjow whirls around quickly and makes his way to you grabbing your upper arm gently and pulling you up. His eyes flicker all around your face and he opens his mouth to say something but then closes it.

“Don’t move.” You hear Ulquiorra demand behind Grimmjow. “Lord Aizen’s on his way and you’ll be dealt with.” Grimmjow doesn’t bother to look back at them, instead he looks you over a second time. Grimmjow’s jaw is locked tight, he looks less feral than he had when he was fighting the man but he still looked ungodly angry and you go to apologize but the sounds of shoes hitting the stone floor make you stop.

“Take him to the throne room and wait,” You hear Aizen command, voice angry. You finally look away from Grimmjow's face to the door. There’s at least a dozen servants trying to look in, they had parted to let Aizen through but were still trying to gawk into the room. All of them were your people and they all looked horrified. Ulquiorra grabs the man by the arm and drags him out as the man begs Aizen for forgiveness. Aizen doesn’t even look at the man as he is dragged past. The servants all step back out of his way. You watch Aizen’s brown eyes fall to you, he looks at your blood for a long moment before his eyes snap to yours. He’s angry and you're terrified of him, you’ve never seen him like this but you knew it couldn’t end well. “Everybody out, I need a moment with my wife.” He demands, voice angrier than you’d ever heard. You watch everybody file out, Grimmjows the last one out and he shuts the door behind him with one final glance to you. Aizen doesn’t say anything as he makes his way to you.

#bleach fic #bleach x reader #cross posted on ao3 #grimmjow x reader #multi chap fic #aizen x reader #aizen x y/n #tw noncon

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goodfish-bowl · 2 years

Text

Taste Test

Ectoberhaunt Day 10: Hunger

AO3 Link

Summary: He wasn’t hangry, no matter what Sam or Tucker claimed. He didn’t want the Snickers either!

Warnings: ghost hunger, vivid descriptions of the taste and texture of foods

Words: 1553

Notes: Takes place early on in the story, probably a few months after he became Phantom. Pre-Vlad, and Danny has yet to befriend any ghosts.

@ectoberhaunt

Danny had simply thought it was the stress and lack of sleep that were getting to him. He was exhausted, more so than he’d been in a while, with an irritated twist in his gut. That totally sounded like stress in his opinion. He was eating enough, so he didn’t buy Sam’s teasing that he was simply “hangry” or whatever. Tucker even had the nerve to throw a Snickers at him. He was fine. It wasn’t getting worse; he just needed some decent rest and for the ghosts to leave him alone for about a week. So what if he’d had a short temper for the past few days? It wasn’t helping that he was tiring more quickly from using his powers in fights.

Sam had suggested that he was missing some nutrients from his diet, maybe he needed something weird due to being half ghost or something along those lines. Danny didn’t like how that idea had merit, but he begrudgingly took to the idea. But this led to the question of what he was missing, especially if it was ghost related. It wasn’t like he could really ask the ghosts what was up with his biology. The only one he could think of would be the Lunch Lady, and he wasn’t eager to encounter her a second time. So, Danny decided to do the only other thing he could think of, ask his parents.

Danny brought it up the next time he actually had to confront his parents.

“Hey, Mom?” She would be the one to know this. “What do ghosts eat?”

Maddie paused her cooking, contemplating for a minute. “Well, I’ve never actually seen a ghost ‘eat’ so to say, but they seem to need a steady amount of ecto-energy to continue existing, even if they lack all of the basic needs and bodily functions to do something as complex as consume nutrients and minerals as part of a ‘diet’. We’ve never actually tested their energy requirement, though. What a wonderful idea, honey! I’ll be sure to ask your father to help me conduct some test to figure this out! And we just managed to catch a bunch of small ones recently too!” Maddie gave a light clap of her hands and an excited smile at the idea of a new series of tests to run on ghosts.

Danny suppressed the shiver threatening to race down his spine and gave his own tight smile in response. “Thanks mom.”

The kitchen was abandoned, along with whatever new recipe his mom had been working on. After a moment, Danny let out a groan at the confrontation. This whole ‘keeping his ghost half from his parents’ was getting harder to deal with every time, especially when either of them was excited about tearing some poor looking blob apart. But the information he got out of it was better than nothing. He didn’t like the idea of eating straight ectoplasm though, that was just asking to be caught.

Danny glanced at the fridge in thought, then around the house. Maddie had dragged Jack down into the basement to talk about the idea he’d accidentally given her for their latest experiment. Tucker and Sam were busy doing their homework and taking notes so he hopefully wouldn’t fall behind further than he already has. Jazz was out hosting a “group study night” at the school. Danny looked at the time. It was 4pm, meaning Danny had time to look through his meal options before cramming his homework and going on patrol. Besides, the food in the fridge was usually just thrown out anyways, what was the harm?

Danny got up from the table and walked over to the fridge, making sure to grab the ecto-proof knife that was kept nearby. Carefully, he made sure to crack the door open, weapon prepped. A burst of cold air rushed over his face, and he could hear the ecto-wiennie’s growling in the back. He opened the door more and pursued his options. He obviously wasn’t going to eat a haunted hot dog; those things were actually sentient at this point. He eyed the milk, before wrinkling his nose at the expiration date. There was a yogurt though. Danny grabbed it and looked it over. Vanilla, set to expire in about a week, and it looked like a sample had actually fallen over it, judging by the green stains on its lid. Should be fine to at least try.

Danny took a spoon and popped the lid open, slamming the fridge before the hot dogs could get any funny ideas. What should be white was tainted green and had a faint citrusy-electrical smell he’d come to associate with ectoplasm with a hint of the original vanilla. Danny’s gut twisted and he swallowed the saliva building in his mouth. It looked innocent enough, even though it was most definitely glowing.

Before he could chicken out, Danny scooped some onto his spoon and thrust it into his mouth, already prepared for the consequences. It slid down his throat with little problem, and definitely tasted of ectoplasm. Metallic and thick, like a flat sprite with pennies blended in. He gagged, going to throw it in the trash when his gut twisted, filling him with a raging hunger like he’d forgotten to eat for days, then walked straight into the Nasty Burger kitchen. Suddenly it didn’t matter what the yogurt tasted like; it was food. Danny devoured the yogurt and then lunged right back at the fridge in a mad fury.

If there were a few less ecto-wiennies by the end of the day, that was no one’s problem.

Danny let out a tired yawn, waiting for the thermos to unload tonight’s haul. Just the box ghost and a few ectopi, but he was finally getting a hang of fighting mid-air. He had the bruises to show for it. His stomach let out a decent growl and Danny groaned. He’d been raiding the fridge for anything ecto-contaminated for the past few days, there was barely anything left at this point, and he had to eat a lot to get the hunger to go away. If he kept at it like this, someone was bound to notice, especially if he snuck a sample again. His mom had definitely noticed when one went missing but had chalked it up to his dad’s shenanigans. He knew he shouldn’t take another sample like that again, but it really did hit the spot like nothing else could. He told himself he would be fine for one more night at least.

The thermos finished spitting out everything, and Danny swore he heard a solitary “Beware!” before he quickly slammed the doors shut on the portal. Danny sighed and went to switch back when he heard a small keening noise from somewhere in the lab. His eyes zeroed in on a small blob ghost in a phase-proof cage. It was the only one remaining from his parent’s experiments from the past week. It looked at Danny with vacant eyes, to tired and small to move from its place on the bottom of its cage. Danny’s stomach growled.

Without thinking, Danny approached the cage, and turned it off. He reached his hand inside, plucking the small creature from it’s confines and holding it to his face. He should release it, he told himself, back into the Zone where it could recharge or however that worked. It was a better fate than it would meet at his parents’ hands.

Danny had to swallow the drool in his mouth. At this proximity, it smelt like orange sorbet, and he didn’t want to let it go. He looked around the lab, lit only by the light drifting from the cracks in the portal and his own glow. It just looked at him from it’s place in his palm, unreactive, not trying to escape in the slightest. Danny bit his lip. Sam would never let him hear the end of this. He let out a shaky breath, and poked it, trying to get it to react, run away, something. It keened again and his gut twisted in hunger. It had shaken like a jello mold when he poked it, and his mind started to fabricate how that would feel if he swallowed it. Creamy and rich like the sorbet it smelt like? Or would it actually be closer to jello like his parents’ samples? Would it have that metallic taste, or would it be straight citrus?

With a final wrench of his gut, Danny’s mind blanked out and he shoved the small blob ghost down his throat, not even bothering the chew. It went down smoothly and easily, a sweet lime flavor filling his mouth, and the hunger fully vanishing for the first time since he’d noticed it.

Danny stared blankly at his hand for a moment, then two. Oh no. He glanced around, then quickly flew from the lab into his room, transforming back once he was safe behind a locked door then rushing into the bathroom. He gagged, nothing came up, and he devolved into a fit of coughing. He couldn’t believe he just did that, but somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it, even when it sent his mind spiraling.

Not with the hunger finally sated. At least for now.

#danny phantom #Ectoberhaunt22 #EH Chaos #Day 10 #hunger #goodfish writes #ghost hunger #i feel like mini blob ghosts would be just like popping boba #either that or more geletal like eating Orbez #dp fic #ectoberhaunt #ectoberhaunt 2022

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beenbaanbuun · 2 years

Text

Filthy - Min Yoongi

Words: 3.5k

Genre: smut

Warnings: degradation, spitting (a lot of it), oral (female receiving), alcohol consumption, dom!yoongi, sub! reader, overstimulation, use of the word 'slut', lmk if I've missed anything <3

You couldn’t help but curse out your roommate, Hoseok, in your head as you made your way through his drunken group of friends. Each of them grunted something along the lines of ‘hi’ as you pushed past them, to which you replied with a tight smile. They were sweet, really, but dealing with them whilst they were drunk was not something you were particularly keen on. Besides, you doubted they’d remember your moodiness in the morning anyway.

Unlike the men who had overtaken your home, you’d grown out of binge drinking at a normal age. Of course, going out to the club once every once in a while never hurt anyone; they were the best places to find a good fuck, after all. Throwing back shots in someone’s kitchen whilst your music disturbed your neighbours until the early hours of the morning, on the other hand? No thanks.

As you stepped over Namjoon, who seemed to have passed out before anyone else, you couldn’t help but recognise the familiar sound of retching coming from the bathroom. A quick scan of the room told you that both Jungkook and Yoongi were missing, and since the older of the two was, as usual, the designated driver, that meant that it was Jungkook. You shook your head with a sigh before continuing on your journey into the kitchen.

Usually, when Hoseok was throwing one of his semi-regular get-togethers, you’d try and be asleep by the time he began to turn the music up to louder than it needed to be. You were a deep sleeper, so once you were out, there’d be no waking you up until morning. This time, however, you didn’t take into account the fact that the group had started drinking much earlier than usual. Therefore, a drunken Hoseok had bumped the volume up to max a few hours before you’d planned to sleep, and thus you were stuck with the blaring sounds of Post Malone keeping you awake deep into the night.

Since sleep was a no-go, a steady supply of caffeine seemed like the only other option. Your coffee of choice was instant (you weren’t made of money) but it did the trick, keeping your brain active for just a couple of hours before you needed your next dose of caffeine. Sure, it made you a little jittery, but it kept you docile, preventing you from ripping Hobi a new one for keeping you up.

Finally, you made it through the huddle of grown men and into the room where your ever-so-precious kettle resided. You could practically feel the warm liquid making its way down your throat now, filling you to the brim with a certain buzz that nothing else could. A pleased hum left your mouth as you reached out, your finger just about the flick the switch to turn it on.

“Are you sure you’re not addicted to that stuff?” A familiar voice made its way through the room, cutting through the loud music. You knew exactly who it came from, and your body became warm just at the sounds of him. It was a good job you weren’t facing him. The cocky smirk that seemed to permanently rest on his face was enough to make your knees go weak. “I’ve seen you come in here at least four times now. I’m surprised you’re not having heart palpitations.”

It was rare that you ever spoke to Yoongi, the man usually keeping to himself, but on the off chance that you did, you couldn’t help but feel an immense attraction to him. He was only a couple of inches taller than you, but he carried himself with a confidence that seemed to disguise the fact that he was shorter than most of his friends. It was a confidence that seemed to be reflected in everything about him from the way he spoke to the intelligent glint in his eye. Some would say it was bordering on arrogance, but that never seemed to bother you, a familiar slick forming between your thighs each time you came face to face with him.

“I’d be drinking a lot less of it if Hobi had any concept of how loud his music is,” The man chuckled as he walked further into the room. By the time he came to a stand-still, you could practically feel his body heat radiating from him. “Seriously, it's like the man plans to go deaf by the time he’s fifty.”

“He does have it ridiculously loud,” Yoongi leaned over you, pressing his chest to your back as he grabbed a mug from the shelf above your head. Despite how normal he was treating the situation, you felt your heart begin to speed up. “I’m sure the neighbours love you.”

“Of course. Sometimes we get little handwritten notes telling us to ‘fuck off’ in cursive.” His breath tickled your ear as he let out another laugh.

“Cute.” He muttered.

Cute? You thought to yourself. He couldn’t possibly mean you, standing there in nothing but an oversized jumper of Hoseok’s that came down to mid-thigh, and a thin pair of sleep shorts with nothing underneath. You had no makeup on, your face puffy from lack of sleep and your lips in a permanent grumpy pout. No, he couldn’t have been talking about you.

“I assume this mug is yours?” He placed it down on the side, a blush coming to your face as you read the words ‘pillow princess’ that were painted in huge pink letters on the side. It had been a joke gift from your roommate after the two of you had spent an evening sharing your deepest sexual secrets with one another. You spluttered a little, not knowing how to answer. “I hope so. I like a good pillow princess.”

If you had anything in your mouth, you would’ve spat it out in shock. Yoongi was a flirty man by nature, but it never failed to surprise you.

“You do?” You mumbled out, the feeling on the man’s chest against your back becoming more and more prominent as the seconds ticked by.

“I do, Y/N,” he placed the mug down in front of you, but never took a step back from your body. As he rested his hands on either side of you on the counter, you realised you were trapped. “And I have to say, your friend out there has very loose lips when he’s had a few drinks.”

All of a sudden, your mind went blank. Something about the whole situation was hard to comprehend. The fact that a man you’d been thirsting over for years had you trapped in between his arms and the counter whilst letting you know that your friend had revealed what you’re like in bed was bizarre to you.

“What else did he tell you?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, scared that your voice would crack a little if you spoke any louder. Part of you didn’t want to know the answer, just in case it was embarrassing, but the growing erection that was resting against the small of your back told you that it couldn’t be that bad.

“Plenty,” Yoongi leaned in, a devilish grin on his face as he spoke into your ear in hushed tones. Your body was tense under his, but he could feel the way you rubbed your thighs together, desperate for more. You’d have to wait though; he enjoyed teasing you too much. “He said you liked being tied up.” He punctuated the words by taking your earlobe between his teeth, only putting down the slightest of pressure before releasing in.

“He said you liked it to be messy, too,” This time, his mouth dipped down to your neck. A long stripe was licked up the sensitive skin, bringing a whimper out of you. He let out a breathy laugh at the sound before blowing against your now wet skin. The chill sent a shiver down your spine. “Said you were a dirty girl, hmm?”

You shook your head, the whole situation becoming overwhelming.

“No?” He nipped at your ear once more, this time harsher. It made you wince a little, not that that was a bad thing. “But Princess,” his voice became even more hushed, barely audible over the thumping bass that came from the speaker in the lounge, “Only dirty girls like to be spat on.”

At his words, your legs buckled. If you weren’t so turned on, you were sure you’d be angrier at Hoseok for revealing all of your secrets, but at that moment, you couldn’t find it in you to care. The thought of Yoongi acting on any of your desires was enough to send you into a hazy state of mind.

“Now,” His large hands moved from the counter to your hips, lifting your body into his so you were stable once more. “What say we take this to your room?”

Before you knew it, he was pulling away, hands still tight on your hips as he guided you across the apartment. Once more you passed through a sea of grown, drunken men. They seemed to have all passed out in the short time the two of you were gone, leaving only the two of you awake. Good, you thought to yourself with a dopey grin, no interruptions.

Once you were at your door, he pushed it open, a small smile on his face as he took in his surroundings. The plush pastel pink furnishings matched well with the baby blue of your walls. Cushions were dotted around the floor having been tossed from the bed. In Yoongi’s head, he imagined you kicking them off in a huff, a pretty little pout on your lips as you threw a mini tantrum. Despite being a pillow princess, he could tell you were a brat too. A tantrum just seemed fitting.

He pushed you over to the bed, shoving you down onto it with minimal force. You spun over quickly, and for the first time that night, you were able to see him. No matter how serious he tried to look, there was always a glint in his eyes that showed you he was up to something. That and the fact that the corner of his mouth was permanently turned up into that smug expression that he wore so well.

Otherwise, his expression was stony, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned over your bare thighs. In the dim light provided by your bedside lamp, you couldn’t help but spot the pink of his tongue dart out to wet his plump lips. You whined a little, desperate to feel it on your skin, dancing about feverishly, leaving a trail of cold spit in its wake. He was right about one thing, you certainly did have a bratty side.

“Yoongi, do something!” If you were in any other situation, you probably would’ve cringed at how you sounded. Not now though. All your shame had flown out of the window the moment you felt the outline of his dick pressed hard against your back in the kitchen. It was clear that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

“It’s cute that you think you’re in charge here, Princess,” He leaned over you, hands going straight to the jumper that had ridden up, no longer hiding the wet patch that had formed on your shorts. In one motion, he pulled it from you and the cold air hit your chest like a ton of bricks. You sucked in a breath between your teeth, your nipples getting impossibly hard. “But I make the orders tonight. You just sit tight and be a good girl, okay?”

Before you could argue, he bent down, his face now only a few inches from your sopping cunt. His large hands moved over your thighs, gripping the soft flesh and pulling them apart to get a better view. The cruel laugh that left him once he saw the state of you didn’t go unheard. In fact, it sent a shockwave through you, your body shivering a little as more desire pooled at your entrance.

“You really are a messy little slut, aren’t you.” His words were biting, spat at you through gritted teeth. If he wasn’t a few inches from your throbbing pussy, you’d be sure that he hated you.

“Not a slut.” You whimpered in reply, denying the name despite the fact it made your body thrum with excitement.

Another chuckle left him as he finally gripped onto the waistband of the shorts that were doing a bad job of hiding your decency. You felt a light tug, almost as if he was teasing you, before he pulled them over your thighs. The thin material caught on your still-spread knees, but Yoongi ignored it, eyes trained on the glistening skin that he’d just revealed.

He blew a stream of cool air against your clit, watching as your body jolted in surprise. He liked the way you reacted to his actions, he had to admit. No matter how bratty your mouth decided to be, he knew he’d be able to shut you up easily.

“Not a slut, huh? The way you’re dripping onto the bed sheets says otherwise,” His thumb made contact with your sensitive nub, pressing down onto it until you let out a high-pitched whimper. He didn’t stop, though. The same amount of pressure was kept as he began rubbing slow circles onto you. With his other hand still locked onto your thigh, there was no escape from his fingers. You were trapped in his web. “You’re so wet, princess. Do you hear it?”

The answer was yes. Even through the vibrations of the music that pulsed through the room, you could hear the thick squelching of your pussy. The sound made you a little embarrassed, but the gentle moans that left Yoongi assured you that he was loving it.

“Sounds so cute. Your wet little cunt is adorable,” He grunted out. Yoongi leaned his face closer to your pussy, before his tongue darted out of his mouth once more and licked a fat stripe from your clenching hole up to your abused clit. The way you wriggled in his grip made him grin widely. “You could be wetter, though.” He didn’t even bother to wipe the juices off of his chin before he spoke. You wanted messy, after all.

You watched through lidded eyes as he sucked on his tongue, gathering up a thick wad of saliva. Not once did his dark eyes leave your pussy as he worked, and neither did his thumb. The circles he made had become lighter, the pressure having been released gradually over the last few minutes. You appreciated it, not sure how long you would’ve lasted if his touch hadn't lightened up.

With a low grunt, Yoongi opened his mouth, his tongue letting itself topple over his bottom lip and hang there. From the tip, his spit dangled and slowly made its way down to mix with the slick that had already built up. It came into contact with your clit first, quickly getting rubbed into your skin by Yoongi’s thumb.

You half expected him to put his tongue back into his mouth, but instead, he leaned his head down once more. With his gaping maw, he covered as much of your pussy as he could. His thumb finally stopped, only to be replaced by a wet heat and a probing muscle that seemed to have a mind of its own as it explored you.

The man sucked harshly, slurping a little as he took your clit between his lips. You let out a loud moan, one that you were sure was louder than the music, and your body went limp. All of a sudden, you were overcome by a desire to let him do whatever he wanted to you. You were completely at his mercy.

His tongue worked against you, drawing patterns on your throbbing clit before darting down to collect more of your wetness from your tight hole. You could feel him pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your entire body buzzing with glee as he pulled away and let another glob of spit fall onto you.

“Fucking filthy.” He groaned out before diving in once more. His tongue was even more feverish as he spread his own liquid around, and soon enough, you fell. Your thighs shook as you felt your orgasm course through your body. It felt amazing, better than anything you’d had in a long time.

Yoongi worked through it, not slowing down the motions of his tongue until your body had stopped shaking, your hips beginning to buck with overstimulation. Even then, he continued. You could practically feel the cruelty to his actions, a glint of evil in his eyes as you tried to wriggle away from his tongue that danced around you so effortlessly. Even as your body fought against him, he didn't hold back.

At one point, he let his huge hands move up to grasp your hips and hold them up to his face. The new angle let him get his face in deeper, nose nudging against your sensitive nub as he made out with your hole, flitting between heated kisses and putting his tongue deep inside of you. If he was bothered by you forcing your hips up to harshly meet his face, he didn't show it, continuing to eat you out as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

By the time your second orgasm was approaching, part of you expected him to tire out and slow down. Surely after so long, his jaw should’ve been aching and his tongue tiring out, but the man was a machine. He kept going, letting out low grunts as he bucked his own pelvis against your pastel bed sheets. In truth, you weren't sure what was keeping him going, but whatever it was, you were thankful for it.

“Yoongi,” You cried out, hands flying down to pull at his long black hair. He’d been letting it grow out recently, and you had to admit that you thought it was an excellent decision, especially in that moment, your fingers tangled in the thick locks. “I think I’m going to cum again.”

He didn't pull away, choosing to nod at you instead. The wordless instructions were cryptic, but the movement of his nose against your clit made you let out a harsh scream, your release taking over your body once more. It was all you could feel as it rushed through you, your veins filling with pleasure.

Thankfully, before you could start shaking, Yoongi pulled away from your core, chin glistening as he licked your juices from his lips. He looked obscene, his hair sticking up at odd angles as he grinned down at you like a predator who’d just eaten his prey. You guessed that was true, the shine on his chin similar to that of blood.

“My, my,” The man spoke as he began to undress himself. First came his t-shirt that came off to reveal his smooth chest, sparkling with the thin layer of sweat that rested upon it. Who knew eating someone out was so physical? Then came his jeans. You took particular interest in those, eyes never leaving his frame as he pulled them down his milky thighs. Once he was left with only underwear on, he let himself crawl up the bed, not stopping until his face was right above your own. “Hoseok wasn't lying when he said you liked it fucking filthy. Look at the mess you’ve made.” He motioned to his mouth, showing the ‘mess’ off.

“Do you want a taste, Baby?” A hand came to rest on your jaw, rubbing the soft skin a little. His hand was warm and still a little wet from when he’d been rubbing at your core, and his touch was so light. Your hazy mind was made even more so by his touch. All you could do was nod in reply. “Open wide then.”

Without warning, he let his fingers dig into your cheeks, prying open your mouth before you even had the chance to do so yourself. It hurt a little, but you were never one to shy away from pain. You’d always believed that there was a fine line between pain and pleasure, and you often liked to toe that line yourself. The aching in your jaw that came from his vice-like grip was just on the right side, a pornographic moan coming from you as he held onto you.

His thumb slipped into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue a little. It became difficult to swallow and even harder to talk, but Yoongi seemed to care very little about that. Instead, he leaned in close and let yet another warm ball of spit fall onto you. It was warm and wet against the muscle making your eyes flutter shut. He was right, you were absolutely filthy, but you loved it.

#bts #bts oneshot #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fic #bts requests #bangtan smut #bangtan #bangtan scenarios #yoongi oneshot #yoongi smut #yoongi #suga oneshot #suga smut #suga

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rothjuje · 2 years

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The sun setting early has been...nice? I forgot how much more I enjoy cooking (and eating) in the colder months. The time change has been...not so nice. It has completely derailed George’s ability to sleep through the night and I’m getting too old to be up multiple times a night. I don’t mind feeling tired, but it’s hard to get much done at this level of exhaustion (which does not help my mental state).

The kids had a shorter week last week which was nice. Things were less crazy overall and Justin and I were able to reconnect. We had our first (at home) date night since the move. We’ve actually spent the last three consecutive evenings together catching up on conversations and shows. Feels nice to leave the roommate phase.

We said goodbye to our last warm day yesterday and explored a new hiking spot that was very pretty. Weather is supposed to be in the mid 40s all next week. My friends here are starting to suffer from SAD, which I did not realize was an actual thing. So odd to me how MA just shuts down this time of year. I have the gift of novelty/not having experienced this season yet, so hopefully I won’t succumb to SAD.

I haven’t been able to convince Justin yet that a dog is a good idea but I have been able to convince him that a treadmill is! I ended up working out last week and the endorphins after were woah. I might actually buy myself earbuds or whatever they’re called and have a little workout date with myself in the evenings.

I have an appointment with a psych soon to discuss ADHD meds and I’m leaning toward staying unmedicated. Or maybe trying concerta again, but adderall isn’t for me. Maybe stimulants aren’t in general, I already struggle with appetite and falling asleep so the side effects really get me. I know there is non-stimulant ADHD medication but I don’t know enough about it/if it’s effective.

Also, I think most of my inability to complete tasks recently is due to the move/stress. I’ve had a few breaks over the past couple weeks and it has considerably improved my functionality/motivation. And I also realized I get weird if I don’t spend enough time outside so that too has helped center me.

I found out one of my friends has T/TH mornings free and we have plans to go on walks and just hang and I am so excited to have some adult interaction. It’s really, really nice to have two close friends here. I love my little town even if it does make me stir crazy at times. But we did find that beautiful hiking spot by a lake 12 minutes away so at least there’s something close to do while George is away at school in the mornings.

My car is having issues again. Sigh. Justin loves having a van, but I need something lighter and easier to drive/park. I love the Kia Sorento because it’s light/easy to drive and also has a third row. A Ford Explorer has a third row as well and is an attractive option because it seems a little safer in the snow/can tow and I would like a camper some day (but it’s heavier and pricier than the Sorento). I will miss having sliding doors and a tv though, hmm..

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loiswolf · 11 months

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Day 27 June 25 Athabasca - Smokey Lake 122kms

An early start this morning after indulging in a second breakfast of waffles again. I decided to head in a more southerly direction partly because the wind was going to be blowing from the north today and partly because there were not a lot of accommodation options directly to the east.

I’d written down all the turns but the navigating turned out to be really easy. My main concern was avoiding dirt roads. Nearly every side road I’ve cycled past has been dirt.

The morning was cooler today. Everyone in this area had been raving about the weather yesterday including all the tv news channels. It was 28° yesterday, I prefer it a bit cooler. Today was much better.

After a few kms I turned right and began to enjoy the tailwind. Cycling was rather enjoyable today. Only gentle hills and being able to maintain a good speed is fun. The scenery was mostly back to farmland again.

Quite pretty really.

Once again I had searched for somewhere to stop but knew there would be nowhere until later. At 50kms I decided a patch of grass would have to do.

I only stopped for about 15 minutes then set off again. Naturally there was something a couple of km up the road. I don’t know if it was open but I could have sat on the chair on the veranda. Typical!

Alternating long south runs with short easterly runs I made good time.

Occasionally I stopped to take photos of these fine establishments.

Yes, I know they are really sheds or barns but I couldn’t resist.

I even saw some alpacas!

At 92kms I finally came to this beautiful place.

I had seen it on the map but had no idea if it would be open.

It was and it was just lovely. I was only going to have a coffee but I received a really nice message from a friend telling me how much of an inspiration I was to her. I thought I deserved a treat

It doesn’t look much but it was a delicious chiffon cake with chocolate icing served with whipped cream. Not one of the usual plastic wrapped desserts, this was fresh and home made by someone’s mother. Yum!

I only had 30kms to go from there. The first 8 were wind assisted and very fast. Then I had to turn left for the last 22kms. The wind wasn’t too bad but the road was terrible. Cracks and holes all over the shoulder. The actual road was slightly better so I was on and off depending on whether or not traffic was coming.

This is a photo of Smokey Lake just before I rolled down the hill into town.

I can’t see any lake. I’m staying in the Country Garden Motel. There is not one speck of garden here. It’s actually the white building with the patch of red on it, first thing you come to. It’s not bad but not what I was expecting.

Unfortunately when I wheeled Shirley into my room I noticed that the strap holding my cycling shoes had come loose and one was missing. Grrrrrr. Must have been that very bumpy ride. After a shower I took Shirley back out up the road a few kms looking for it. I don’t know how the other one stayed on that long. I didn’t find it.

The sandals ( which are smaller) have never come loose. The straps have stretched I suppose. Too bad. I’ll throw the other one away then I won’t have to worry about strapping them on anymore. I can wear socks under the sandals if it gets cold again.

I managed to get to the shop just 3 minutes before it closed to buy some more broccoli. I’ve had an early dinner tonight because last night I ate late then couldn’t get to sleep.

I should sleep well tonight!

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heyitssashag · 1 year

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It’s Boxing Day. My Aunt & Uncle stayed the night. We had breakfast together, chatted and enjoyed each other’s company until early afternoon. They left around 2pm. I’m hoping I can head over to see them again in the New Year - maybe stay a night. I enjoy visiting them.

Ella and I finally got out for a walk. It’s been pouring rain so the snow has dissolved. We sat at a park for a bit overlooking the water. She didn’t want me taking her picture though so it’s just me. Looking tired. lol.

Then we headed down to the beach.

I felt a bit more rejuvenated after we got home. I’ve been eating crap the last few days and now I feel like I need a cleanse. I’ll be starting that January 2nd. 😉

I’m not sure what the plan is tomorrow. Ella was talking about seeing a movie at the new theatre in town.

It’s the end of the 2022 and now I’m looking at what I’d really like to accomplish in the New Year. I don’t have high hopes or expectations. Maybe read more books. I’d also like to take a creative writing class where I can get some real feedback on my work. Finally write my memoir. It just feels really tough when visiting some of those old memories. Writing it down often feels like I’m reliving it. That being said, it could be really cathartic and cleansing. Sometimes the best way to purge those memories is to write about it.

Creating experiences will be an important focus, too for 2023. It should be priority for everyone, though. Everyone seems so hung up on “stuff”. F*ck the stuff. Let’s just do shit.

I also really want to take more pictures and create some albums. Not digital albums. Real ones. Having pictures properly developed and everything. Then maybe write stories, letters or poems with it. Draw pictures. Or even include receipts or ticket stubs or whatever else I can glue in there. Basically a “memory book”. Some people have memory boxes which is an option as well. When you have stage 4 cancer it’s a-given that you’re not going to live forever so I think about what I’m going to leave behind. A legacy. Mostly, for my daughter.

I feel like all I do is focus on my health so saying I’m going to “focus on my health” for 2023 sounds ridiculous. I just want to somehow improve my energy whether that be by working on mindfulness, exercise, sleep or eating habits. I’ve got a lot of ideas and will start going through them. Will post here if/when I’m successful. I also need to keep on top of pain control. It’s not just my neck but upper back, lower back and as I’ve been mentioning in my previous posts, my jaw/TMJ. It’s exhausting keeping everything in check.

Well, that’s it for now. Lately, I’ve been looking at my phone a lot so I’m going to take a little break from it (other than to answer calls). So that means no texting, social media or blogging for a few days. I don’t need to be on here daily. Especially over the holidays. Instead, I’ll be reflecting over this past year, reading my books, going for walks, catching up on some shows and spending time with family. 💕 Cheers! 🥂

The Countdown Begins! The New Year is in 6 days!

#Spotify #Christmas #walk #beach #relaxing #reflecting #new year goals #fuck the stuff #just do it #new year #metastatic breast cancer #breast cancer #cancer #inspiration #inspired #making memories #experience #reading

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uncwfst · 2 years

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Wendy interning at The Harrelson Center

I’ve been working at the Harrelson Center for well over 7 weeks now, and I have to admit that I am enjoying my days working at the Harrelson Center more than the times I spend in my film classes. This might sound like it does not need to be said, but I am one of those people that enjoy school. I love college, absolutely love every type of film class I’ve taken, both in film studies and film production, because I’m that type of person that loves to learn. However, I am also an artist at heart and although I am under the direction of the public relations director, I have found the slight freedom, of how I can record and being able to use what I’ve learned and use my discretion as to what I should record to best meet the assignments required, is very fulfilling.

An important thing that I believe I will have to address in the future with potential employees, one that has come up in the past month despite my best efforts, is my chronic condition and how it can/will affect my working hours but does not affect my personal passion and drive. Despite my best efforts to eat well, make sure I sleep enough at night and try, and have time to just rest, even if it’s one or two hours a week, I have no cure for my chronic migraines and all the medicines I take only help me out to a certain point. Last week I had a conversation with the PR director, the person I respond to directly at The Harrelson Center office, about the days I’ve missed, but consequently the other days I went to events, came in early, ect; to make up for the hours of my regular schedule. She understood my health situation, as I was (and always am) nervous about being completely honest regarding my chronic condition. She liked to hear that whenever possible I come in earlier than I’m supposed to, and if I ever have to stay home and miss a day at the office, I attend after-hour or weekend events, of which there are many, and I have no issue making the time to attend those events.

One of my goals working within this internship is to gain experience as a producer, and one major aspect of gaining production experience is financial management and attaining equipment. Aside from being a full time college student, and having a chronic condition, I am also a single mom, so my financial ability to buy filming equipment is rather difficult, but not impossible. I have been able to use the companies that offer pay-in-four options to be able to afford more expensive equipment. I’m excited to have attained a super cardioid directional on camera shotgun microphone and a smartphone axis gimbal stabilizer. I am hopeful that my videos will come out looking more professional with the usage of these equipment. Time will tell and I hope to have better videos for next month.

For now I would like to show a short video I made to showcase the Plaza at The Harrelson Center that is available for rent for special occasions. I was only able to capture a few shots of the gala being put together and I wish I had been able to go back and get footage of the area finished for the gala, but I was unable to.

#internship #uncw #filmstudies #videography #wendybeckerbritt #HarrelsonCenter #nonprofit #producer #production #solofilmmaking

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firstbeachgoblin · 3 years

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Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!

Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.

I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.

Returning to you.

Embry Call x Reader

5058 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.

The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.

It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.

That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.

Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.

My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.

“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.

He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.

“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.

“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.

“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.

“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.

“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.

“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”

I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.

“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.

“I-I know I just really miss you.”

“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”

We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.

The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.

My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’

The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.

Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.

Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”

I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.

The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.

I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.

I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.

Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.

The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.

Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.

It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.

One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.

I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.

I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.

“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.

“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.

“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.

He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning

“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.

I knew he was buttering me up for something.

“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”

“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”

I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.

“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.

“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.

We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.

‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’

I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.

The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.

Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.

As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.

I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.

I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.

I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.

Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.

My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.

The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.

My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.

The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.

I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.

As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.

“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.

“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.

“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.

“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.

“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”

“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.

I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.

We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.

The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.

I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.

Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.

I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.

I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.

“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.

“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”

My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.

I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.

The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.

The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.

“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.

One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm

“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.

“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.

The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.

“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”

We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.

The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.

It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.

Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.

Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.

I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.

As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.

My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.

A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.

I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.

Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.

We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.

I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.

Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.

I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.

I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.

The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.

Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.

As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.

The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.

It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.

Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.

“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.

She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.

The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.

I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.

Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.

“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.

“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.

“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.

We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.

The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.

My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.

I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.

Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.

My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.

The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.

I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.

My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.

“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.

“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.

“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.

“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”

“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.

“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”

His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.

“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.

“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.

“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”

“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.

“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.

“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.

“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.

#embry call imagine #embry call x reader #twilight wolves #twilight wolf pack #twilight renaissance #twilight revival #twilight saga #wolf pack #embry call #jared cameron #jacob black #sam uley #paul lahote #quil ateara #seth clearwater #leah clearwater

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extasiswings · 3 years

Note

“I felt it shelter to speak to you.” for Buddie

This was...not supposed to be this long but all the recent promo content has been...inspiring. Anyway...on ao3 here.

The first attack happens on a Saturday afternoon.

There’s nothing special about the day, nothing strange. Christopher is at a friend’s birthday party, Buck is off somewhere with Taylor, and Eddie is grocery shopping before he’s meant to meet Ana for an early dinner.

His shoulder aches a little—that’s what he notices first—but that’s not too unusual. It happens sometimes. Even as physical therapy has helped him regain strength and mobility in his arm and shoulder, a high caliber sniper round ripping through his upper chest is no minor injury. Plus, while he’s hardly ancient, he’s not even as young as he was when he was shot the first time, and those bullets left behind their own patches of scar tissue and occasional twinges.

So. His shoulder aches. It’s fine. He ignores it and moves on. Goes through the store, checks out, put his bags in the backseat—

There’s a glare off a window in the apartment building across the street.

Eddie reaches for the handle of his door.

Suddenly, his fingers start tingling, uncomfortable pricks of icy numbness traveling up his hands like they’ve fallen asleep, but shaking them out doesn’t help. And then, without warning, pain lances through his chest, sharp and acute, and he can’t breathe properly, as if his torso has been trapped in a vise that’s slowly tightening more and more.

His vision swims. He sways on his feet, grasping at the door handle with clumsy, numb fingers to keep himself upright.

He feels like—he feels—

He feels like he’s dying. It strikes him with sudden clarity. He’s dying. Dying in a random parking lot—he always assumed he was too young to have a heart attack but the symptoms fit and he’s just—

He can’t. He can’t die. Not when he’s survived everything else. This can’t be—

“Sir?” There’s a woman with a station wagon parked in the space next to his truck and she’s looking at him with no small amount of concern. “Are you okay?”

Eddie’s mouth is so dry and his breathing so irregular that it takes him a moment to respond.

“I—I think I need to go to the hospital,” he grits out as another wave of dizziness threatens to send him to his knees.

She calls 911. Eddie spares a moment to be grateful that the paramedics who show up a few minutes later aren’t from the 118.

As it turns out, he’s not dying. And he didn’t have a heart attack.

“A panic attack?” Eddie’s voice is distant to his own ears as he stares at the ER doctor in disbelief, his stomach flipping with a new kind of dread. “Are you sure?”

“Your symptoms resolved on their own and your EKG is normal, Mr. Diaz,” she replies as she flicks through the screens of his chart on her tablet. “And nothing in your prior history or other recent tests indicates that there’s anything physically wrong with you—you were healthy before you were shot and your recovery has progressed smoothly up to this point.”

She pauses and looks back at him. “Have you...spoken to a therapist? I noticed that your treating physician made a referral for counseling when you were originally discharged, but…”

Eddie clears his throat roughly. “Yeah, no, I, uh...with the PT schedule and everything else going on, I never followed up with that. But I’ve been fine. It never seemed necessary.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Diaz,” the doctor says, “you’re in the emergency room because of an acute stress response in which your brain tricked your body into believing you were in danger to such an extent that you thought you were dying. I’m not sure you’re as fine as you think.”

There’s probably some truth to that. Eddie can admit that much. But that doesn’t mean he needs—he’s been shot before. He’s been in a warzone. He didn’t need therapy to move forward from it then and he shouldn’t now. He can—he can handle this. He can make himself get over it.

He’s already spent months leaning heavily on everyone around him. The thought of not being okay, of asking for more help when he’s finally easing back into working, when things are finally getting back to normal, when they all have their own issues to focus on—

God, it makes him want to throw up.

So...no. He’s okay. Because not being okay isn’t an option.

He’s fine. The panic attack was...a fluke.

“I appreciate the advice,” Eddie says finally. “I’ll think about it.”

He can tell the doctor doesn’t believe him when her lips thin.

“You know, more likely than not, the panic attacks will keep happening if you do nothing,” she points out. “Ignoring this won’t make it go away.”

“I understand,” Eddie replies. “If that’s all, does that mean I can get out of here?”

The doctor sighs. “Sure.”

Eddie’s phone rings while he’s in an Uber on the way back to his truck. It’s Ana.

He swears under his breath as he sees the time—he hadn’t called anyone, hadn’t wanted the hospital to call anyone either, but that means he’s now late for a date that he doesn’t really want to keep after everything and further doesn’t leave him with any good excuses for his absence except the truth which...he doesn’t really want to admit.

Before the shooting, Carla told him to make sure he was following his heart. And he’s been too exhausted and focused on his recovery to really think too hard about that. But now—

For a moment, Eddie considers it. Telling Ana the truth. Showing her some of the dark, messy, ugly pieces of himself. Being vulnerable.

The very idea makes him recoil. Not because he thinks she would run away necessarily, but because he just...can’t.

He can’t. Not with her.

And if he’s that uncomfortable with the idea of letting in someone he’s been dating for over half a year, if he can’t imagine himself ever actually being comfortable with that...then what the hell is he doing?

He calls her back when he gets to his truck.

“Hey—I’m so sorry, I had a little emergency—yeah, everything’s fine now, but I’m not sure I’m up for going out. Can I meet you at your place? ...okay, great. See you soon.”

He may know even less about ending a relationship than he does about dating in general, but he figures he at least owes it to her to end things in person.

Eddie goes to work on Monday feeling fine. Great, even. He sleeps well the night before, he gets Christopher off to school on time, traffic is light enough that he gets to the station early—

Everything is fine. By all accounts it should be a good day.

At least, that’s what he thinks right up until all of them get different emergency alerts sent to their phones and they find out the city’s systems have been hacked. From that point forward, everything is chaos. Damage control. Twenty-car pile-ups because stoplights are being messed with, an outbreak of animals from the zoo when the electric locks on their enclosures released—

Eddie’s fine though. He’s fine. It’s nothing he can’t handle—in fact, he’s usually great with chaos. He’s focused and sure and capable. Nothing else matters but the work, certainly not himself. When he’s busy, he has no time to think about anything else.

The gradually worsening tension in his shoulders can be ignored. The way he has to clench his hands into fists to keep them from shaking in a way he hasn’t had to do since his earliest days in Afghanistan can be brushed off. He doesn’t have time to think about anything but the jobs in front of him, which means he doesn’t have time to think about his own state.

Brush it off, pick yourself up, keep moving forward. That’s what he knows, that’s what he can do.

Except, then they end up at the hospital and—

A medevac helicopter falls off the roof. Bobby nearly joins it. Buck and Eddie barely manage to get him back.

A cold sweat breaks out on Eddie’s brow as Bobby leans heavily against the wall next to the roof access door to catch his breath. His stomach roils. He doesn’t feel fully connected to his own body, caught somehow between present and past, a rooftop in Los Angeles and a desert in Afghanistan.

He breathes in. He tamps down on the rising panic.

Bobby is fine. The helicopter pilots and their patient are fine.

He’s fine. He’s fine.

“Are you okay?”

Eddie jumps at the question, his head whipping around to find the source. Buck’s brow furrows as he holds up his hands.

“Sorry,” Buck says quietly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Eddie swallows hard and shakes his head. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it.”

He glances toward the door. “You know, I think I’m going to head back down,” he says, hoping Buck won’t notice the fact that he hasn’t answered the original question. “I want to make sure the pilots are holding up alright.”

“I can come—” Buck starts to offer, only for Eddie to cut him off.

“Someone should stay with Bobby,” he replies. He forces a smile as Buck’s eyes search his face. “I’ll be fine.”

Buck glances at Bobby, then back to Eddie before he finally nods.

“Okay,” he says. “But here, take the radio. If anything happens—”

“I’ll let you know.”

Eddie makes it down one flight of stairs before he decides to take the elevator the rest of the way down. The numbers on the top of the doors tick down, down, down—

And then, abruptly, the elevator lurches to a halt, throwing Eddie off balance and into the wall as the lights go out, plunging him into total darkness.

His ears ring from the impact.

He’s trapped. Trapped in a metal box in the dark. A box that could easily become a coffin if the emergency stop failed and sent it careening down to crash at the bottom of the elevator shaft.

Eddie’s breathing speeds up against his will. His chest starts to hurt.

Not again, he thinks vaguely. Not here, not now, not again.

But. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. Some distant part of his mind recognizes that what he’s feeling isn’t real, that he just needs to calm down, but he can’t—

He’s going to die. He’s going to—

The radio crackles in his belt.

“Eddie? Eddie! Can you hear me?”

Eddie’s mind latches onto the sound of Buck’s voice like a lifeline in an ocean of distress. It takes him a moment to make his trembling hands work through their numbness, to remind his fingers how to work the buttons, but eventually, he lifts the radio to his mouth.

“I’m here,” he says. His voice shakes. “I’m in the elevator. It’s—I don’t know which floor. Or if I’m between floors. I don’t—”

He shudders. His eyes close, not that it really matters given how dark the space is already.

“It’s okay,” Buck replies. “It’s okay, Eddie, we’ll find you. We’ll get you out, don’t worry.”

“I don’t want to die here.” It slips out of him before he can pull it back. Buck takes a sharp breath on the other end of the line.

“That’s not going to happen,” Buck says firmly, although his own voice seems less steady than usual. “I would never let that happen. I’ve got your back, remember? Always.”

A shudder rips down Eddie’s spine and he slides against the wall to sit on the floor. The walls still feel too restricting, like they’re closing in on him more each moment that he looks away.

The radio crackles again.

“Eddie. What can I do? What do you need?” Buck asks.

I don’t know. I don’t—I can’t—

“Eddie.” The fear and desperation in Buck’s voice cuts through the fog in Eddie’s mind.

He never wants Buck to sound like that.

“Keep talking?” Eddie replies. “I—just keep talking to me. Please?”

Don’t go, is what he really means. Stay with me.

He’s never allowed himself to say those things though. Not during the early days of the pandemic when they were sharing a bed in Buck’s loft. Not after he moved back home with Christopher and the other side of his bed felt too empty for sleep to come easily. And certainly not after he started dating Ana.

During his recovery, he never had to ask Buck for anything really. Buck was always just...there. Even though he was with Taylor, he was still there with Eddie and with Christopher whenever Eddie needed him. Like he knew somehow. Or maybe as if he needed to be there as much as Eddie needed him there.

Eddie hasn’t looked too closely at any of that. He’s not ready to. It’s too much, too complicated, too—too—

Dangerous.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Eddie swallows hard as his head rests against the wall. As he allows the sound of Buck’s voice to wrap around him like armor. Like home. Insulating him against the panic and isolation.

“Anything,” he says quietly. “Just keep talking.”

And Buck does. He talks about everything and nothing, random facts and stories from his past that Eddie hasn’t heard before, he talks and talks and talks until his voice grows hoarse in Eddie’s ear and the pressure on Eddie’s lungs eases.

Eddie exhales shakily and takes a few deep breaths as he continues to listen, as his body shifts from hyper-awareness and panic to wrung out exhaustion. When Buck finally cuts off, it’s because there’s an ugly screech of metal as the elevator doors are pried open, as light filters back in.

Eddie’s legs are unsteady as he gets to his feet. He trips on the edge of the elevator door when he exits—

Buck catches him before he can fall. Because of course he does.

“Thank you,” Eddie breathes into Buck’s shoulder as he finds his balance.

Buck shakes his head. “I promised we’d get you out, didn’t I? Besides, I—I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“I decided—”

“I shouldn’t have let you,” Buck repeats, low but insistent. His eyes meet Eddie’s and Eddie swallows hard.

“You weren’t okay. Were you?” Buck asks. And Eddie—

He wants to lie. Part of him does at least.

But he can’t lie to Buck.

Not to Buck.

“No,” he confesses. It’s half a whisper. “No, I wasn’t.”

Buck bites his lip and nods once.

“Okay,” he says. “We’ll figure it out.”

And somehow, Eddie believes him.

#chapel writes #prompt fill #letmetellyouaboutmyfeels #buddie #eddie diaz #buddie fic #buddie ff

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kpopfanfictrash · 3 years

Text

Raise the Barre (Epilogue)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight for the last Raise the Barre moodboard TT she nailed it

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: sexual content. Dry humping, fingering, hand job, oral (female), breast play, multiple orgasms, Jimin gets turned on by making someone else come, dirty talk. Jimin’s pants are tight.

Word Count: 13,409

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

“And… more pointe shoes,” you said, opening the box in your lap. “Wow. Thanks, mom and dad.”

Your dad laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said, nodding from the couch. “I know Russet gives you some already, but you can never have too many.”

“Out of curiosity.” You glanced at the tree. “Are there any boxes from you which aren’t related to dance?”

“Not related to dance…” Your mom pretended to think. “I don’t understand.”

“Mom!”

She laughed. “I’m kidding! Yes, there are other presents. You just happened to pick all the pointe shoe boxes first.”

Shaking your head, you placed the box aside. You smiled though, warmth in your chest at being home for the holidays. Classes at Russet had ended a week prior and it had been nice for a few days to simply relax. Already though, you found yourself itching to return to the city. It was strange to wake every morning and not head to ballet. It was even stranger to take classes at your old studio, trying to stay in shape before second semester began.

Playing with the string of your sweatpants, you couldn’t help glancing at your phone on the couch. It had been several days since you’d last seen Jimin in person. Oddly enough, the separation had been harder than you’d thought it would be.

Immediately after ending things with Finn, you and Jimin had tried to keep your distance. The pain of your separation had been too fresh to even consider dating someone else but, as time had gone on, you and Jimin had started becoming friends again.

It was hard not to be, with Jimin continuing as your dance partner and classmate. At the end of the semester, you’d had the opportunity to switch partners, but you and Jimin had chosen the status quo. It just made sense this way; you couldn’t think of anyone else you’d trust as much as him.

At first, things between you were strictly professional. You saw him only within the confines of the dance studio but eventually, his presence bled into your normal life. At first, the outings were small. Jimin went to a pregame you also attended. He saw you once at the coffee shop and, instead of running away, he stopped to chat. One time, he walked you back to your dorm.

When the month became December, you found your outlook improving. Most of November had been spent wallowing in your dorm, but the holiday season brought with it endless activities. The very first weekend of the month, a bunch of your Russet friends decided to go ice skating and you’d ended up tagging along.

The biggest problem had been you’d never ice skated before. Noelle had been patient, skating backwards in front of you and dragging you around the rink. Jimin had done the same thing for Hoseok, who was in a similar predicament to yours, and at some point, they swapped partners and left you skating with Jimin.

When he’d taken over for Noelle, your stomach had swooped. Hands touching, he’d led you gently around the edge and the world had seemed to still. It had been the first time you’d felt anything stir outside of your break-up. Whatever hurt and distance had sprung between you, it seemed something had survived between you and Jimin.

Nose red, Jimin had smiled as he skated backwards. “It’s easy,” he’d told you. “You just swivel, Y/N. In and out, in and out. Got it?”

“Um, no!” you’d yelped, nearly crashing to the ice when Jimin let go of your hands.

He’d laughed, catching you easily and skating like that for a while. Eventually, Jimin had helped you off the rink and gotten hot chocolate, which you insisted on buying. Payback, you said, for the impromptu skating lessons.

That day had been a turning point for you both. Throughout the month prior, you’d texted sporadically but after, you seemed to talk every day.

Jimin even offered to drive you home from Russet, given the fact that your hometowns were so close together. After much hemming and hawing, you’d eventually taken him up on the offer. The savings it gave your bleeding bank account were well-worth the potential discomfort.

This had led to both the best and worst twenty-four hours of your life.

Best, because Jimin was an excellent road trip companion. He let you choose the music, laughed at all your dumb jokes, and agreed to play the road trip games you suggested. You’d already made a firm rule not to compare Jimin to any past boyfriends but couldn’t help but note this as an improvement over anyone prior.

The sole reason the twenty-four hours were also painful was because you stopped at a hotel halfway through. It was either this or drive until 3:00 AM, so you chose the smarter option and rested for the night. You and Jimin bought separate bedrooms, but they’d ended up next to one another, so you’d been forced to spend a sleepless night imagining Jimin separated from you only by a thin sheet of plywood.

You had told yourself this was silly. At Russet, Jimin hadn’t been much further away, but something about the closeness in the hotel made you nervous. It was infinitely easier to forget about boundaries when you were separated by only a car console for hours at a time. Infinitely easier to forget the rules when you were outside of Russet, cocooned by his car and the snow.

You couldn’t help but think about the one kiss you’d shared.

That had only been a taste, barely a teaser, but the memory kept you awake for more nights than it probably should have. You couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to kiss Jimin again, under different circumstances.

Groaning, you’d covered your face with a pillow that night and tried your best to sleep. It hadn’t really worked, and you’d shown up at the car the next morning with dark shadows beneath your eyes.

Forcing yourself back to the present, you glanced away from your phone and focused on the tree – only to see its screen light up in your peripheral. Grabbing your phone, you realized Jimin had texted. Stifling a smile, you scrolled through the conversation until you found his last message.

Jimin: MERRY CHRISTMAS! [10:23 AM]

Jimin:

Y/N: oh my god everything’s so... coordinated lol how long did that tree take to set up? [10:24 AM]

Y/N: and merry Christmas 😊 [10:24 AM]

Jimin: not long at all. I just googled ‘christmas trees’ and that was the first one I found [10:24 AM]

Y/N: ha ha hilarious [10:25 AM]

Y/N: so, what are the Park family plans for the day? [10:25 AM]

Jimin: the usual. Opening presents, going to my grandparents later for dinner. What about you? [10:25 AM]

Y/N: same, minus the grandparents. We usually have a pretty low-key day [10:26 AM]

Jimin: sounds nice [10:26 AM]

Jimin: what’s your favorite present so far [10:27 AM]

Y/N:

Jimin: LOL [10:30 AM]

Jimin: how many of them did you get? I’ve gotten two new dance bags and seven pairs of black leggings. It’s like our parents have forgotten we do anything else [10:31 AM]

Y/N: no new dance belts? 😈 [10:32 AM]

Jimin: Y/N, I’m shocked [10:35 AM]

Jimin: mind out of the gutter. Stop thinking about my junk [10:35 AM]

Y/N: as your dance partner, I have a vested interest in your junk. What if it breaks free in the middle of practice? [10:38 AM]

Jimin: the more delicate ladies would faint, I imagine [10:41 AM]

Jimin: and probably Paulo [10:41 AM]

Y/N: lmao [10:43 AM]

Y/N: but seriously, I hope you get presents other than dance gear [10:43 AM]

Jimin: back at you haha [10:47 AM]

Y/N: I can’t help but notice you didn’t get me, your dance partner, a Christmas gift though [10:50 AM]

Jimin: was the drive home not enough? [10:50 AM]

Y/N: oh, shoot. You’re right! You did get me a Christmas gift [10:51 AM]

Y/N: I’m the one who’s been remiss [10:51 AM]

Jimin: don’t forget about my housewarming gift, too [10:52 AM]

You smiled, sitting back on the sofa. Jimin was lucky enough to be moving off campus second semester. He, Hoseok and Alex Wong were moving into an apartment not far from Paulo’s. You and Noelle had decided to stay in Grace Hall, but you’d talked about moving someplace else next year.

Jimin was heading back early to move into his new place, so you’d need a different ride on your return trip to Russet. Still, you were looking forward to Jimin’s apartment hosting parties in the new year.

Y/N: don’t get greedy on me now, Park [10:54 AM]

“Who’re you texting?”

Jerking your head up from the screen, you nearly dropped your phone. From the couch opposite, your mom gave you a knowing look.

“No one,” you said hastily, setting your phone aside.

“Oh, really?” She glanced with your dad. “No one wouldn’t happen to have dark hair, his own car and excellent table manners, would he?”

Immediately, you felt your face heat.

When Jimin drove you home before Christmas, your parents had insisted on feeding him before he continued to Harleigh Heights. This had led to the weirdest double date of your life – which was, in fact, not a date – including you, Jimin and your parents for dinner. Luckily, your parents had been great and Jimin hadn’t cared, but you’d been endlessly mortified for your first date with Jimin to have included your parents.

Not that you’d called it a date. When Jimin had left that night, you’d brushed it aside and he’d simply gone along with it. After Jimin had left, you’d gone to your room and wondered what the hell you were doing. It was clear you still liked Jimin and wanted to be more than just friends. Still, something continued to hold you back.

You weren’t sure when it was considered appropriate to move on. The line seemed fuzzy, so you hadn’t dared cross it and Jimin hadn’t asked. You got the feeling you needed to be the one to make the first move – which made sense. You’d been the one who asked for more time. You’d told Jimin you’d say when you were ready.

Any next steps would have to come from you.

It had been weird to go home and not see Finn. His house was only fifteen minutes away from yours – you’d driven past it on your way to the grocery store last week. Still, seeing his home hadn’t caused the pain you’d expected. It was strange not to see him, but more like you’d forgotten something you needed to do, as opposed to missing his actual presence.

If you were being honest, Finn had crossed your mind less and less lately. Possibly because you’d been falling out of love with him long before you’d broken up in November.

Still, it would be unfair to jump into something before you were ready. You’d already hurt Jimin once this past fall and were determined not to do so again. No matter how good things had been lately between you, you didn’t want to make the mistake of dating Jimin too soon.

Despite this, things had become flirtier between you as of late. Exhibit A: casual text conversations about Park Jimin’s junk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said lightly.

Your dad laughed as he stood from the couch. “Alright, then,” he said, grabbing another gift. “How about you open this one next?”

Accepting the thin package he handed over, you frowned. The box wasn’t large and, shaking it slowly, you heard no sliding inside.

“I swear,” you said as you began to undo the bow. “If you wrapped your passport photo again, dad...”

Laughing, he settled back on the couch by your mom. “It’s not that, I promise.”

Grumbling, you opened the box and immediately froze. Staring at the paper inside, you slowly looked up. “Is this… is this what I think it is?”

“It’s a plane flight,” your mom said with a smile. “I know we’re supposed to drive you back on the third, but we thought you might want to celebrate New Year’s with your friends.”

“But…” Speechless, you returned to the box. “We always hang out together on New Year’s Eve.”

“I know,” said your dad. “But maybe it’s time to start some new traditions, kiddo.”

With that, he stood and took his mug to the kitchen. Sensing he wasn’t needed for this conversation any longer, he began washing dishes and to prepare breakfast. Once he was gone, your mom moved to your couch and settled beside you.

“I… this is too much,” you said, immediately backpedaling.

“It’s not.”

“Well…” Hesitant, you considered the possibilities. “I guess Ari will be in the city for New Year’s Eve. Maybe Noelle, too. She mentioned she might go back early.”

Gently, your mom smiled. “That’s great if you want to hang out with them, but… didn’t Jimin mention going back before New Year’s?”

Startled, you glanced up. You were surprised she’d remembered. Jimin had mentioned it briefly at dinner last week – he’d said he was moving off campus, which was why he’d needed to return home to pack.

“I – he might have,” you said cautiously.

“I see.” She paused. “I just… I don’t want you feeling like you need to hold yourself back, honey.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your mom glanced meaningfully at your phone. “I’m glad you’re taking time to yourself,” she said slowly. “It’s important to know who you are and what you want. But also – don’t feel like you need to follow someone else’s timeline when it comes to moving on.”

“I know, but…” You trailed off. “We only broke up in November.”

She shrugged. “Only you know when you’re ready, honey. I just don’t want you to keep punishing yourself for something that’s over. You’re allowed to be happy, even if you’ve messed up in the past.”

Swallowing, you glanced again at the gift. The plane ticket was for the day before New Year’s Eve. Plucking it from the box, you sat back on the couch.

“But…” you said lowly. “Mom, it’s only been two months.”

“And are you still in love with Finn?”

“No.”

“And did you learn anything from what happened this fall?”

“I… Yes. A lot.”

“Good.” Reaching out, she squeezed your hand. “Learn the lessons you need to learn, and then move on. Self-flagellation isn’t productive, Y/N.”

You nodded, still uncertain about what she was saying. Her words made sense, but everything she was saying uncovered a dormant fear. You were scared. Scared of hurting someone else, scared of being hurt by someone else in return. Your last relationship had ended so badly, it was hard to convince yourself it might be worth it to try again.

Finally, you turned to face her on the couch. “Does it ever get any easier?” you asked. “This fear of being hurt… does it ever go away?”

Something sad passed over her face. “Yes and no,” she said, pulling back her hand. “You’ll never be as innocent as you were in your first love. There’s something special about loving someone and never having been hurt before. Once you’ve gone through that kind of pain, you aren’t the same after. But… it does get easier. And better. You’ll know more about how to support this time, instead of tearing down. How to make a love stronger, instead of hanging on.”

Something about this speech gave you comfort, and you slowly nodded. Again, what she said made sense but if there was one thing you’d learned from the fall, it was no matter how great the advice was, it was impossible to take if you weren’t ready to hear it.

You continued wondering if the risk would be worth it. No matter how much you felt for Jimin, you couldn’t help but remember how you’d felt breaking up with Finn. You hadn’t been in love with him at that point and it had still been so painful. It was terrifying to imagine loving someone again and having things end the same way.

Your mom was right, though. You couldn’t keep punishing yourself for something you couldn’t change. There were several ways you could move on from here. The main question to ask yourself was whether you wanted Jimin in the picture.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime.” Smiling, she stood and dusted off her pants. “I’m going to see if your dad needs help making breakfast. Don’t be too long, now!”

You nodded, watching her go, and then glanced at the ticket. Your mom’s words continued to run through your mind and after a moment, you picked up your phone.

Jimin had texted back.

Jimin: I would never! [10:57 AM]

Y/N: hey, so [11:01 AM]

Y/N: I did get one non-dance gift this year. A plane flight the day before New Year’s Eve [11:02 AM]

Jimin: oh, wow! That was really nice of your parents [11:03 AM]

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. When you opened them, you found yourself newly determined.

Y/N: when do you get back again? [11:03 AM]

His ellipses started, then stopped, then started again.

Jimin: December 28th [11:04 AM]

Y/N: what are your New Year’s Eve plans? [11:04 AM]

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you felt your heart catch. Maybe you’d misread things. Maybe Jimin had moved on and didn’t care about you anymore. Maybe he didn’t want you to tell him you were ready.

Jimin: I’m free 😊 [11:05 AM]

Jimin: want to be my New Year’s Eve date? [11:05 AM]

Smiling ear to ear, you responded.

Y/N: yes. Please [11:06 AM]

On the actual day of New Year’s Eve, you found yourself stressed beyond belief. Standing in front of the mirror of your dorm room, you adjusted your dress and worried over the hemline. Jimin had arranged to meet you around 7:00 PM and it was dangerously close to 6:55.

“Is the dress too short?” you asked, turning a little to face Noelle. “It is New Year’s Eve in the city. Should I wear pants, or something? Will I be cold?”

Noelle considered, then shrugged. “Just drink more. Problem solved!”

Snorting, you turned back to the mirror. Nervously, you smoothed down the front of your dress. You’d bought it at an after-Christmas sale and had fallen instantly in love. It had seemed perfect at the time, but now you were having second thoughts about the thin straps and tight bodice.

“Alright, so Y/N.” Noelle changed the subject. “Here’s the plan. Are you listening?”

Hiding a smile, you adjusted an earring. “Listening.”

“Good. Okay, so Ari and I will be at a party uptown. If the date goes badly, just say the word and we’ll call you a cab. You can be ringing in the new year with us within the hour.”

“Perfect,” you said. “It’s good to have a back-up.”

“It is.” Noelle paused. “Not that I think you’ll need this, of course.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Please.” She snorted. “What’s Jimin going to do? Be too charming? Too respectful of boundaries? Wear pants that show off his ass a little too much?”

“Noelle!”

She laughed, coming to a stop alongside you. Noelle wore a sparkly dress which made her skin glow, although this may have been the glitter dusted over her shoulders. Looking at herself in the mirror, she fluffed her hair.

“Seriously,” she said, meeting your gaze. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know, I know.” Shaking out your arms, you forced yourself to exhale. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. It’s been a long time since I went on a first date.”

Noelle considered. “That’s true. Allow me to give you some dating tips, then.”

Laughing, you turned around and sat on the futon. “By all means.”

“Alright – number one.” Noelle removed lipstick from her purse. “Don’t order anything with garlic. I know, that sucks because garlic is everything, but no one wants to make out while they have garlic breath. Rule number two!”

“Whoa, whoa,” you said. “Who said anything about making out?”

Noelle gave you a pointed look. “Just in case it should happen…”

Shaking your head, you sunk back on the futon, but you knew she was right. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, after all. Ideally, you’d like to do more than kiss Jimin, but this seemed like too much of a jinx to say out loud.

Mentally, you agreed to the ‘no garlic’ rule.

“What else?” you prompted.

“Let’s see.” Noelle began to reapply her lipstick. “Relax.”

“What?”

Glancing at you in the mirror, she raised both brows. “I can see your shoulders tensing from here, babe. Just relax, okay? Tonight will be fine. You’re just hanging out with Jimin. You’ve done that before.”

“I know,” you groaned, lowering your face to your hands. “For some reason though, I’m very aware of the ‘date’ aspect of tonight. I don’t know why.”

When you looked up, Noelle gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could say more there came a knock at the door. Half-standing, you moved to open it, but Noelle shooed you back.

“Rule number three,” she said as she crossed the room. “Never answer the door for your own date.”

“What?” you laughed, although you sat back down on the futon.

Grabbing the handle, Noelle pulled open the door. Blocking you from view, she leaned her shoulder against the frame.

“Password?”

“What?” came Jimin’s voice, sounding confused.

“That’s correct!” Noelle stepped aside.

As you stood, you saw Jimin for the first time. He wore a pea coat over his outfit, his dark hair pushed back from his face in a devastating manner. When he saw you, Jimin froze, and you saw his eyes widen.

Silently, you congratulated yourself on having picked the right outfit. His gaze slowly trailed your body, lingering in places which made your cheeks heat. When he returned to your face, he slowly exhaled.

“Hey,” he said. “You… you look beautiful.”

Smiling back, you found yourself at a loss for words. “So do you.”

Jimin grinned and you stood there, smiling at each other like idiots until Noelle cleared her throat.

“Well,” she said, side-stepping Jimin to grab her coat. “I’m going to head over to Ari’s. You kids be safe, okay?”

“We will,” you laughed.

Noelle left in a flurry of kisses and glitter, waving goodbye as she stepped out the door. Jimin turned to face you once she was gone, offering a smile.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I brought you these.”

From behind his back, he pulled out pink peonies, which made you gasp. They were your favorites, a little limp from the cold, but still beautiful. Taking them gently from him, you turned them over in your hands.

“They’re wonderful,” you said happily. “Thank you.”

Jimin smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”

Glancing around, you found a clean glass near the sink and filled this with water. Arranging the peonies on your desk, you took a step back and cocked your head. You’d always thought the idea of flowers on dates was kind of cheesy, but now that you’d experienced it in person, it seemed unimaginably sweet.

“There,” you said, turning back. “All set.”

Jimin smiled at this, then glanced at your bare arms. “You’re going to be cold without a coat,” he said. “That’d be a bad way to start off the new year.”

“Oh – duh,” you said, hurrying towards your wardrobe.

Pulling a coat out, you slipped this over your dress and buttoned the front. As you left the room, you turned off the lights and shut the door behind you. Jimin walked with you down the hall, continually glancing your way from the corner of his eyes.

You felt oddly shy, despite this being Jimin beside you. Jimin, who you’d known since you were teenagers. Jimin, who’d been both the utter bane of your existence, along with the single person you trusted most in the world. He’d tossed you up in the air and caught you no question and somehow, this felt like the most daring thing you’d ever done.

It was strange to walk beside him, out on a date whose future held a large question mark. Excitement and uncertainty warred in your stomach, which only seemed to exacerbate the situation. You felt as though you stood on the edge of a precipice, staring into a ravine with no discernable bottom.

As you left the building, snowflakes swirled in the sky up above and you looked up in surprise.

“Oh,” you exhaled, breath frosting before you. “I didn’t realize it was snowing!”

“Yeah.” Jimin grinned, tilting back his head. “Snow is my favorite weather, actually.”

“The wet and the cold does it that much for you, huh, Park?”

“That, and the romance of it all.”

Your smile softened a little as you fell into step alongside him. The snow continued to drift as you walked, melting as soon as it touched the pavement.

“So, where are we going?” you wondered, glancing at him. “You said you’d tell me once you picked me up and I’ve got news for you, Jimin. I’m here. I’ve been picked up.”

“Right, sure.” He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I made a reservation at this restaurant around the corner. The food’s really good so I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Huh.” Jimin paused. “That was easy.”

You shrugged. “I’m just excited for tonight. That’s all.”

His gaze softened a little when he glanced at you. “Me, too.”

Smiling, you continued to walk alongside him. New Year’s Eve in the city was a grand affair. The sidewalks were still lit with holiday lights, people hurrying past in brightly colored coats. Privately, you were glad Jimin had made a reservation at a restaurant instead of trying to brave a club or a bar. You’d heard horror stories from people who paid extravagantly to get into a club, only to spend the entire night waiting in line at the bar.

Turning the corner, you saw the restaurant Jimin had chosen and brightened. It was one you’d walked past several times and always wanted to try but had never found time.

Jimin held open the door as you entered. The inside still had their holiday decorations up, garland strung across every surface with tiny, white fairy lights hung up above. Everyone who was dining wore formal attire, laughing and chatting in the glow of the fireplace. The food smelled amazing and immediately, your mouth watered.

Joining the line at the hostess stand, you waited for the couple before you to leave and then Jimin stepped up.

“Park,” he told her. “Party of two.”

The hostess smiled, nodding as she flipped through her notebook. “One moment, please.” The longer she looked though, the more her face fell. After a moment, she glanced up. “Park, you said?”

“Yes.” Jimin nodded. “P-a-r-k.”

The woman nodded, flipping through her notebook again as though the name might magically appear.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing up again. “There seems to be some kind of mistake. I don’t have you listed as a reservation.”

Jimin’s expression faltered. “Can you look again?” he asked, leaning forward.

The hostess nodded, running her finger down the numbered rows. “I can’t find you anywhere. Do you remember who you spoke with on the phone?”

“Rebecca.”

“Oh.” Her face immediately fell. “Rebecca left the restaurant last week. It seems a few reservations slipped through in the transition. Is there… well, before I do that – let me see what I can do,” she blurted out, turning around to rush into the restaurant.

Jimin watched her disappear and you saw his expression tighten.

Silence fell between you as you adjusted your coat. Jimin looked stressed and you weren’t sure what you should do about it. Frantically, you tried to remember times he’d been stressed during class, but before you could do or say anything, the hostess returned.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking harried. “The restaurant is completely booked up. I was trying to see if we could squeeze you in, but there’s just no room. I’m so sorry. Normally, only one person does the reservations, but we’ve been so busy lately...”

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping in. The poor woman looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Please, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure something out.”

Jimin glanced at you, surprised, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, returning to the hostess. “Thank you so much for your help – I appreciate you trying. We actually have a back-up reservation somewhere else, so don’t worry. We’ll come back another time!”

“Oh, really?” Her entire face brightened. “That’s so good to hear. New Year’s Eve, and all. Thank you for being understanding!”

“Yes, busy night,” Jimin said with a smile. “Take care of yourself!”

The woman nodded, seeming grateful when you stepped out of line. Jimin followed your footsteps, heading towards the door and then came to a stop. Slowly, he exhaled.

“So,” you said, turning to face him. “Where are these back-up reservations?”

Jimin winced and met your gaze. “I have none,” he admitted. “She just looked so sad. I wanted to put her out of her misery.”

“Wait.” Piecing this together, you paused. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he said miserably. “I only made reservations here and that was super lucky, considering most places in the city have been booked for weeks. I don’t have any back-up plans.”

For a moment, you could only stare. “So, you said all that just so that poor hostess wouldn’t worry about a mistake her restaurant made?”

“I – well, yeah.”

You stared another moment, then started to laugh. It started out small but grew until eventually, you were wiping tears of mirth from your eyes.

Jimin watched you laugh, seeming thoroughly confused. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just…” Shaking your head, you paused to catch your breath. “You’re unreal. Most people would be super stressed about New Year’s Eve plans falling through, but here you are lying to make a hostess’ night better.”

He blinked, still uncertain. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted as you straightened. “It’s… wonderful,” you said to him shyly. “I like that about you.”

Slowly, his expression changed. “I really don’t have other plans, though,” he admitted. “I wasn’t lying about that. And I am stressed about my reservation falling through. I wanted this night to be perfect.”

The sweetness of this made your heart start to melt and newly determined, you nodded.

“We can fix this,” you said. “We’ll just go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“Like...” You paused. “We could hang out at my dorm. Or at your apartment! One of our kitchens has to be free, right? We could make dinner and hang out, watch the ball drop.”

“We could go to my place,” said Jimin slowly. “Hoseok and Alex are at a New Year’s Eve party uptown. We’d have the kitchen to ourselves.”

“Perfect,” you said. “Let’s go there.”

“I should warn you, though – I can only really cook one thing.”

“Spaghetti-o’s?”

“Okay, two things.”

You laughed. “So, what’s the first thing?”

“A pasta dish they taught us in Senior Foods class. But it’s nothing fancy.”

“Perfect.” You shrugged. “That will go nicely with my contribution of store-bought bread and olive oil.”

Jimin started to grin. “Alright, then, it’s settled. Let’s go to my place.”

You smiled when he opened the door, following him onto the sidewalk. Jimin’s new apartment was a few blocks away, but time passed quickly with him beside you. Oddly enough, the mishap at the restaurant seemed to have cleared some of the lingering awkwardness.

Noelle had been right, you realized – you had nothing to worry about while you were with Jimin.

He talked while you walked, detailing the ongoing fight at his apartment about some posters Hoseok wanted to hang. This segued into the general ridiculousness of New Year’s Eve – a topic you wholeheartedly agreed with.

“It’s stressful,” Jimin complained as you walked. “Everyone’s always asking about your resolution, you need to find someone to kiss at midnight, and there’s that super awkward moment with the countdown and your date…”

You laughed, grabbing a basket as you entered the grocery store. Jimin had suggested you stop by, since he didn’t have much food at his place.

“Doesn’t the countdown make it easier?” you joked. “It really dumbs the whole process down. Fool-proof.”

“Well, sure,” Jimin said. “But then you end up staring awkwardly at someone for ten seconds while you slowly lean forward and wonder when you should blink.”

Laughing, you reached on tiptoe for a loaf of bread. “Alright, you got me there,” you admitted. “I’ve never had a proper New Year’s Eve, anyways. I’ve always been dating someone and then, it’s just kind of assumed you’ll kiss. None of the magic you see in the movies.”

Jimin nodded. “Most of that’s just movie magic, though. You aren’t missing much – trust me.”

“I don’t know,” you said as you turned the next corner. “The anticipation sounds kind of nice. Wondering if someone will kiss you back, if they’re thinking about you the same way you are…”

Jimin made a humming noise, low in his throat.

Coming to a stop, he reached overhead to grab some pasta. Putting this in your basket, Jimin casually brushed your arm as you met his faze. Fighting back a shiver, you tried to remember what you’d been saying.

Giving a smile, Jimin continued forward and kept shopping. You stared after him a moment before your gaze dropped to his ass. Inhaling quickly, you remembered Noelle’s comment about Jimin’s tight pants. She hadn’t been wrong about that. Hurrying along, you quickly caught up.

Grabbing another jar, Jimin placed this in the basket. When he caught your eye again, he grinned, his hair falling forward. The sight made your heart flip-flop in your chest.

As you entered the check-out line, Jimin came to a stop alongside you. His gaze traveled the store, eyes widening when he glanced over your shoulder.

“What’s that?” Jimin gasped.

Startled, you turned. “What’s – hey!” you blurted when he took your basket.

Grinning widely, Jimin placed the food before the cashier. “Too slow.”

“Jimin, come on,” you said, slightly flustered. “I can pay. I –”

“You can pay next time, if you want.”

This shut you up and you stared at him a moment before you stepped forward.

“There’s… going to be a next time?” you said.

Jimin glanced in your direction. “If you want there to be.”

“I do,” you said softly, and he smiled.

Taking another step forward, he pulled out his wallet to pay and you let him – this time, anyways. Outside, it seemed to have grown colder since your arrival and you shivered as you exited the shop. Noticing this, Jimin immediately undid his scarf from around his neck.

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “I don’t need this.”

“But then you’ll be cold,” you pointed out, accepting it anyways.

“I’ll jog in place to keep warm.”

“… With me walking beside you?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, even more so when Jimin began to demonstrate. He jogged for a few steps, then slowed to a walk.

“Changed my mind,” he said with a wince. “I’d rather be cold.”

You laughed, cheeks starting to hurt from both this and the wind. Jimin’s apartment wasn’t far, although it did turn out to be a third-floor walk-up. This left you slightly winded when you arrived at his place, to which Jimin shrugged and said the rent had been cheap.

Opening his front door, he led the way into – boxes. Tons of them, although most of the furniture had been set up around them. Jimin fumbled for a light, flicking this on and setting down the groceries.

“Most of the boxes are Alex’s,” he sighed, looking around. “Hoseok and I have a secret deal we’re going to unpack him ourselves if he doesn’t do it by Monday.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a detriment to Alex.”

“I never said what we planned on doing with his things once we unpacked.”

You laughed, undoing your coat to set aside. Glancing around, you saw Jimin was right. Most of the boxes were scrawled in the same handwriting. Beyond them, you saw the living room had been mostly set up with a couch and TV.

To your right lay the kitchen, in which Jimin was already unloading the groceries. Beyond him was a hallway, through which you assumed were their bedrooms and bathrooms. Wandering back to Jimin, you realized he was staring.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop. “Did I spill something on my dress in the store?”

“No,” Jimin murmured, shaking his head. “I just… I know I said this before, but you really do look incredible.”

“Oh.”

Looking at him, you felt your face growing hot. Jimin smiled and ducked his head, resumed pulling things out of the bag. Stepping from your shoes to place in the hall, you returned to the kitchen and pulled out a stool.

Sitting down, you propped your chin in your hand. “Aren’t you going to take off your coat?”

Glancing down, Jimin blinked. “Oh,” he laughed, undoing the buttons. “I forgot I was wearing it.”

You smiled, but this quickly disappeared when you saw what he was wearing. Jimin had worn a dark blazer and trousers, paired with a paisley shirt and black boots. He looked ridiculously good and again, Noelle’s comment about his ass came to mind.

She’d been correct – his pants were well-shaped and well-formed.

After removing both coat and shoes, Jimin returned to the kitchen and pushed a hand through his hair. You watched him get to work, leaning forward a bit when he began to dice vegetables. Immediately, your brows raised. It seemed Jimin had undersold his skills in the kitchen.

When you said as much, he laughed.

“Maybe a little,” Jimin said. As he pushed veggies from the cutting board, the pan began to sizzle. “It’s all part of my master plan. Set expectations low, then over-deliver.”

“It’s working,” you said with a laugh. “You seem pretty damn impressive to me.”

Jimin’s cheeks reddened. “You’re just saying that.”

“Why would I lie?”

“I seem to remember some shocking texts about my junk and dancer’s belts. You could just be after my body, Y/N.”

“I – that’s not!”

He looked up and grinned. “Kidding.”

Flustered, you blurted, “That wasn’t nice!”

Jimin laughed. “I’m sorry.”

You huffed, waiting a minute before you continued. “You do look really good right now, though,” you said softly.

He looked up, eyes wide. As much as Jimin said he enjoyed being liked, it seemed to throw him for a loop whenever you said you liked him. It made you pause, mulling over this for a minute.

“You seem surprised,” you said quietly. “Whenever I say things like that, you always look surprised.”

“Well…” Jimin hesitated. “I just think… there’s been a lot of times where I never thought this would happen. It feels kind of unreal have you here. In my kitchen. On a date.”

“Times after November?”

Jimin paused.

Your brow furrowed. “Before then?”

Opening the pasta, Jimin added this to the pot. He stared into the steam, slowly exhaling before he looked up.

“Let’s just say I’ve wanted this for a while,” he admitted.

“What? But you hated me before Russet.”

“I…” Jimin trailed off. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”

When he failed to elaborate and returned to his cooking, your eyebrows shot up.

“Uh, no,” you laughed. “You can’t just say that and not explain what you mean. What are you talking about?”

Jimin winced as he set down his spoon. “Okay,” he said, gripping the counter. “I guess what I’m saying is I never really hated you. Not truly.”

“You didn’t.”

“No.” He spoke flatly.

“But…” Confused, you searched his face. “You’ve hated me ever since we met, Jimin. That first weekend at NUVO dance competition. We were both called out to demonstrate and you tripped me!”

“Well, maybe that’s not exactly what happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin released a low breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. That weekend happened a little differently from my perspective.”

“How so?”

“We were both called out to demonstrate,” he said, repeating your words. “But I hadn’t seen you before then. When we both reached center and I turned and saw you – I froze. I couldn’t remember how to act. Every thought I’d ever had just… flew out of my head.”

You stared at him, speechless.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jimin continued softly. “I’d never felt like that before. When you started to dance, it only got worse. I’d never seen someone dance like you did. That’s why I entered the combination late. That’s why I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time and that’s why I accidentally tripped you. I was… well, I was distracted.”

“By me,” you whispered. “You were distracted by… me?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” you said, breath catching. “This entire time, you haven’t really hated me?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck. “You could be really infuriating,” he said with a laugh. “There were times when you genuinely pissed me off. I meant it when I said I wanted to win against you. But also… I don’t know. I never really forgot the first time I saw you.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure what you were feeling.

It made your head spin to hear this different version of events. Jimin hadn’t hated you – at least, not in the same way you had. He hadn’t been the one to make the first move after all. You had when you’d decided not to listen to his apology.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Hey – what’s wrong?”

Dropping his spoon to the counter, Jimin came around and stood beside you. Keeping your head down, you refused to look up until Jimin touched your arm.

“I just,” you exhaled, turning to face him. “It was my fault. This entire time, I thought you hated me and that’s why I hated you. But instead, I just decided to hate you – and for what?”

Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “I wasn’t entirely blameless, you know. I was such a little shit at that age. I wouldn’t have believed me, either.”

“You tried to apologize, though!”

“Hey.” Gently, he gripped your elbows. “If it makes you feel any better, I did trip people just to get to the front. I was an ass. It’s why that Jungkook guy hates me. I started dancing later in life, so I was really hung up on proving myself.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t true,” you told him. “You didn’t trip me on purpose, and if I’d only been less stubborn –”

“Whoa, hey.” Jimin smiled. “You weren’t the only stubborn one. Maybe it started off as a misunderstanding, but I didn’t really fight it. You were my competition as much as I was yours.”

“I guess,” you said quietly. “I just… I feel like I wasted so much time hating you. Maybe we could’ve even been friends.”

His gaze sparked. “Just friends?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Jimin,” you groaned, but started to smile.

“Listen.” Expression softening, Jimin moved closer. “Even if I had decided to explain all this in high school, would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.”

“Exactly. I was a dick back then.” He nodded. “Remember that one time I lied and told you the awards ceremony had been pushed back an hour?”

Sitting up straighter, you glared. “Oh, I remember. I showed up after they’d already taken the photo for Top Junior solos.”

Jimin grinned. “Or the time I put an out of order sign on the women's restroom after your solo at BRAVO, so you had to run all the way across the auditorium?”

“That was you!” you blurted out, wide-eyed. “No one would believe me when I said it was! Every girl was so pissed off at you that weekend.”

“Which is exactly why I could never admit it was me!”

In disbelief, you shook your head. “You did all of that just to get back at me?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. “Hey, you weren’t innocent either,” he argued. “Remember the time you spilled an entire water bottle next to my bag so that when I sat down, my ass got all wet?”

Devious, you smiled. “Honestly, there was kind of an ulterior motive there. As much as I hated you, your ass looks great in damp sweats.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped a little.

Managing to shut this, he took a casual step forward. “Is that what you thought?” he murmured, barely able to conceal the thickness in his voice.

“I… may have noticed a few things about you.”

When he placed a hand next to you on the counter, your breath hitched in response. Jimin repeated this with his other hand, bringing his body a step closer to yours.

Hesitant, his gaze roamed your face. “What else did you notice?”

“I…” you exhaled and glanced at his lips.

The air between you could have been cut with a knife, heated for a different reason than the stove beside you. Which – eyes widening, you glanced over.

“Shit!” you blurted. “Jimin, the pasta!”

Startled, he looked in the same direction as you and realized the water was boiling. Rushing away, Jimin entered the kitchen and turned down the burner. Now that you were separated by a solid counter, you felt somewhat dazed when you glanced up and saw him.

Meeting your gaze, Jimin came to a stop. “Anyways,” he said softly. “Now, you know. I didn’t trip you on purpose. I never really hated you. And I’m incredibly glad you’re here tonight.”

Watching him speak, something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Me, too,” you whispered.

Smiling, Jimin returned to the pasta and you settled back on the stool. Delicious scents soon filled the kitchen and you realized how truly hungry you were. You hadn’t eaten much at lunch in preparation and by now, you were famished.

It wasn’t long before Jimin placed pasta onto plates, adding the bread you’d cut up on the side. He brought these to his table, disappearing briefly to return with two candles.

“Oo,” you said as you took a seat. “Fancy.”

Jimin lit the one closest to you with a flourish. “We aim to please, here at Park Jimin’s Fine Eating and Dining.”

“Is that the name of your restaurant?”

“It is.”

“And you’re set on that decision?”

“I decided on a whim, but I have no regrets,” Jimin said, taking a seat across from you. “Now, eat before you piss off the chef and he takes back your food.”

Laughing, you dug into the pasta before you. It was delicious and, after the very first bite, you sighed in appreciation. Apparently, Jimin had truly set the bar low. Conversation began to flow, any lingering tension disappeared after talk of your past.

It was the oddest thing. You’d heard stories from friends about other first dates. They worried about how to behave, what to wear, or what to say to their date – but none of these worries seemed to exist for you in the moment. You’d been so concerned before the night began, but now that you were here, all these worries seemed to fly out the window.

You’d thought you’d spend the entire night comparing. Comparing Jimin to your last relationship, comparing Jimin as a date to Jimin as a friend, but instead, it felt like natural progression. It wasn’t a matter of comparing Jimin to anyone else, but rather simply enjoying where the night led.

After dinner, you insisted on helping clean because Jimin had cooked and bought the food. Donning rubber gloves over your dress, you stood at the sink and began to wash dishes. Jimin laughed as he joined, pulling on gloves to dry the dishes beside you. Once this was done, he suggested watching a movie before the ball dropped.

Collapsing onto the sofa, you adjusted your dress and scanned the room. The posters Jimin had bemoaned were now hung over the TV – you wondered if Hoseok had managed to somehow sneak them past his roommates. Small touches here and there made you think of Jimin.

A game he’d mentioned was out on the coffee table and a blanket which smelled like him was draped over a chair. Pulling this towards you, you wrapped it around yourself as Jimin left the kitchen.

Holding two glasses of wine, he paused when he saw you.

“What?” you said, glancing down.

“Nothing.” Jimin cleared his throat. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” you admitted, tugged his blanket closer.

“Shoot.” Jimin frowned. “The heat’s been weird since we moved in. I’m not sure how to fix – oh!” Setting the glasses down, he rushed towards the hall. “Do you want a sweatshirt?” he called.

“Yes, please!”

Jimin reappeared moments later, a navy sweatshirt in hand. Handing this over, he settled beside you on the sofa. He’d ditched his blazer and now, Jimin was dressed in only the paisley shirt and slacks.

Pulling his sweatshirt overhead, you somehow managed to get stuck right away. It was hard not to, with your hair and the dress, trying not to flash him while you kept your legs crossed.

After a moment of watching your undignified struggling, Jimin cleared his throat.

“Need help?”

“Yes, please,” you said weakly.

Jimin laughed, helping you free and once the hoodie was settled, you sighed and leaned back. Glancing sideways at Jimin, you found him already looking at you.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked.

Jimin blinked, then glanced at the TV. “Hm,” he mused, grabbing the remote. “We could watch the ball drop and enjoy the fact that we’re sitting inside, not standing in the freezing cold without any bathrooms.”

“I know!” you said with a shudder. “Out of all the stupid traditions, that’s one I’ll never understand.”

“How do so many people have it on their bucket list?”

“Right? That, and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Zero out of ten. It’s cold, there’s wind and again, there’s the question of bathrooms.”

Jimin laughed as he scrolled through the channels. “Alright, so no to the ball drop. Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

“What movie?”

“Why’re you making me pick?” you whined, sinking deeper into his cushions. “That’s such a large amount of pressure.”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to do it.”

You laughed and after some back and forth, decided to watch About Time. This was a movie about obstacles and falling in love, which seemed more than fitting because of the new year. At first, you and Jimin were watching diligently but eventually, he asked a question and conversation slowly drifted from the movie.

At some point, Jimin lowered the volume to focus solely on you. You curled deeper into the couch beside him, your thighs somehow touching and shoulders inches apart. Jimin’s head leaned against the cushion and he continued to smile in a way which made your heart flip.

“Here’s a question,” you murmured, no longer pretending to watch the movie.

His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “What?”

“Why’d you tell Sabrina you only wanted to be friends?”

Briefly, his eyes widened. “How did… you know about that?”

“She told me.”

“Hm.” Jimin gave you a dubious look but moved past it. Sabrina had begun hanging out with your friends as of late. “But alright, I’ll answer. If I do though, you need to answer one of my questions. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“So, I was single when I came to Russet.” Jimin paused. “It was the first time in a long time, and I may have hooked up with a couple of people.”

“Hm,” you said tightly.

His eyes danced with amusement. “Jealous?”

“Answer the question.”

He laughed. “Anyways, I only hooked up with Sabrina the one time. Afterwards…” Jimin sighed. “I felt kind of weird about her asking me to switch partners. Then I overheard what she said about Ari at weigh-ins and just didn’t feel like anything more... Plus, there was the other reason.”

“And what was the other reason?”

“I was starting to like you,” he said, a bit softer. “The day you said you wanted to be friends was a giant weight from my chest. And the more relaxed you were around me, the more… I don’t know. The more I liked you, I guess. My mom has always called me her hopeless romantic,” Jimin said with a smile. “I don’t know about that, but I can be single-minded when I like someone. That was part of the reason I told Sabrina we shouldn’t hook up anymore.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

His smile turned lopsided. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah. I guess it does.”

“My turn, then.” Smile disappearing, his gaze darkened. “Why did you really call me that night at the club?”

“Oh. That. Well, I –”

“And don’t say it was because I had a car,” Jimin interrupted. “There were a lot of people you could’ve called to help. You didn’t, though. You called me. Why?”

You hesitated before you realized there was only one answer. “I wanted to see you,” you said honestly. “I was scared, I was alone and… you were the person I wanted to see.”

Jimin’s gaze had become nearly black, the air between you thick with something unsaid. You were suddenly conscious of all each part of your body pressed to his. When Jimin shifted on the couch, you moved somehow closer.

He hesitated, then glanced at your mouth. “I don’t…” Jimin licked his lips, sounding hoarse. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“You won’t,” you told him.

Something uncertain passed over his face. “Maybe we should take things slow.”

“Or,” you said slowly. “I could tell you things I like about you, instead.”

“And what would be the point of that?”

Your gaze shifted to his. “You’ve told me a lot tonight about how much you like me,” you said softly. “About how long you’ve liked me. I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

Something in his gaze cracked and he nodded. The TV in the background was quiet, only the noise from the street and the whoosh of the heater breaking the silence.

“First,” you said, glancing down at his lap. “You have really nice hands.”

Jimin’s lips twitched. “My hands? I’ve always thought they were small.”

“Wrong. They’re the perfect size. Never have they dropped me.”

“Mm, that’s a good point.”

“And your smile,” you said.

“What about it?”

“I like your smile,” you told him. “It makes me smile.”

His eyes crinkled in demonstration. “Oh, yeah?”

“And your ears.”

Jimin laughed. “My ears?”

Reaching out, you delicately traced over an edge. “I’ve spent a long time looking at your profile, Park. I know what I’m talking about here.”

As your fingers moved lower, feather-light down his jaw, Jimin’s smile disappeared.

“I like your jaw, too,” you told him.

In the darkness, his gaze glinted, and you felt his jaw tense.

“And your lips,” you added, gaze lowering. “I like those a lot.”

“Y/N…” Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Yeah?”

He slowly exhaled. “I just don’t want you to regret this.”

“Jimin.”

He opened his eyes.

Your expression was serious. “I told you I wouldn’t jump into something before I was ready,” you said, lifting your other hand. “But I’m not in love with Finn anymore. It doesn’t hurt when I think about what happened last semester. I like you, Jimin. I want you. I don’t want to keep pushing you away. I get if you’re unsure about this, though. If you’re unsure about me.”

Jimin’s gaze roamed your face. “Unsure?”

“I know I hurt you before. I shouldn’t have kissed you and ran away. But I promise this isn’t like that. I’m not running away. I’m the furthest thing from running and I –”

Cutting you off, Jimin pressed his lips to yours.

You shuddered a little, leaning into his kiss before he pulled back. Jimin exhaled, barely a breath before he kissed you again.

Noses brushing, lips lingering, the kiss slowly deepened. Your hands curled into his hair, pulling him forward to bask in his warmth. It was dizzying, how different this felt than last time. Last time you’d been heartbroken, desperately yearning each time your lips had touched.

Now, Jimin felt like air, like sunshine as you drowned in his presence. Hand grasping your waist, Jimin moved you closer so your chest nestled to his. Lifting his fingers, his touch skimmed your jaw, your hairline before he circled the nape of your neck.

Drawing away, he bit down on your lip. With a low sort of moan, Jimin sought your lips again. When his mouth opened yours, his tongue swept forward and you nearly combusted.

This was only to tease, though. Only to taste before he pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Thumb skimming your jawline, Jimin tilted your head back to brush a kiss to your throat. Moving higher, he worshiped a slow path up the column of your neck. At your ear, he nipped gently before he returned.

Now, his kisses began to deepen. Mouths opening, your tongues brushed only briefly before he chose to withdraw. You were glad you were kissing on the couch, because suddenly your own legs felt weak underneath you.

Hand re-gripping his waist, Jimin pulled you against him. Eager, your hands found his neck and the blanket dropped to the floor. It wasn’t enough, though – you needed more, wanted to feel him fully beneath you. Rising on your knees, you swung a leg over his lap and settled on top.

Jimin hissed, his head hitting the back of his couch. Your dress had ridden up in the process, exposing your thighs – his thumbs skimmed the surface before he looked up.

“Shit,” Jimin croaked.

Smiling, you bent to kiss him again. Jimin arched upwards, each part of your body electric where you touched. He shifted his hips, granting friction and heat which made you short-circuit. Pressing yourself closer, your thighs sild backwards until they nestled around his waist.

Jimin’s hand found your spine, pulling you closer as his hips pushed upwards. You groaned when you felt him shift underneath you. The kisses grew steadily hotter, this ache in your core increasing with every touch.

“Can I…” Pulling away, Jimin glanced lower. “Can I take off the sweatshirt?”

“Yeah,” you said, a bit dazed.

Jimin didn’t waste time, helping you pull this swiftly overhead. It was tossed on the ground and when your dress was revealed, he inhaled.

Slipping his hands up your bodice, Jimin met your gaze. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he confessed, his voice hoarse.

“Do what?”

Your breath hitched when his hands skimmed your breasts, lingering in all your softest places.

“Touch you,” Jimin said. “It was torture to see you, to look at you and not be able to do this. Not how I wanted, anyways. I’d tell myself not to think about it, but…”

“Jimin.”

He paused and looked up. “Yes?”

“Touch me. Please.”

Without hesitation, Jimin slid his hands lower. Cupping your ass, he pulled you against him and allowed his other hand to drift up your spine. You shivered, closing your eyes as your head tilted back.

His hands slid up your front, over your breasts and under the straps of your dress. Jimin’s thumbs drifted lower, brushing your nipples through the fabric of your bodice. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him and saw his gaze darken.

Reaching higher, Jimin cupped the back of your neck and returned your lips to his.

He kissed you slowly, purposefully as you melted forward. Shifting against him, the kiss began to intensify. Mouths opening, your tongue swept forward in bold strokes against his. Suppressing a whimper, you ground your hips on his lap.

“Is,” you murmured, breaking free. “Is your bedroom unpacked?”

Jimin went still. “I – mostly, yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, releasing your thighs as he stood from the couch.

You laughed, sliding down his front as your feet hit the ground. Tugging your dress down, you followed Jimin when he grabbed your hand. He pulled you down the hall, coming to a stop at the last room on the row. Pushing open the door, he flicked on the light and came to a stop.

Stepping forward, you glanced around Jimin’s room. You recognized some of the items from the two times you’d visited Jimin in the dorms. Photos of his family were carefully hung on the wall and he had the same pillows laid over his queen-sized bed.

Turning around, you took a step backwards and sat on his bed. “It’s nice,” you said, patting the comforter. “I like it here.”

Jimin watched you, his gaze half-lidded from the hall. “I like you here.”

Cheeks heating, you watched him enter and gently shut the door. Leaning back on your elbows, you arched a brow.

“Where’d we leave off?”

Jimin exhaled as he crossed the room. “I think you were on my lap,” he said hoarsely, kneeling beside you.

You nodded, moving to straddle him as he leaned to the wall. Catching your waist with both hands, Jimin pulled you against him, kissing you roughly even before you sat down. Suddenly ravenous, his hands slid to your ass as he rolled you against him. Inhaling sharply, you sucked his lower lip between teeth as he groaned.

Reaching up, Jimin tugged on your hair as you inhaled, throat exposed for him to kiss slowly down your front. When he returned to your lips, you ground your hips impatiently over the bulge in his pants.

Shifting his weight, Jimin’s spine hit the wall. He stared at you, slightly dazed with his kiss-reddened lips. Without looking away, Jimin lifted his fingers and began undoing his shirt. You stilled, watching each inch of skin be revealed. When he reached the last button, you gave in and helped push this aside. Smiling, Jimin sat up as his shirt fell to the floor.

You weren’t sure where to look first. Hands faltering, you slid them up his abs, over his shoulders and down his biceps. He was so perfect, it almost hurt to look at. Jimin’s breath quickened as you touched him and slowly, he lowered you down to the bed.

“Enough,” he said roughly, returning your lips to his.

As you kissed it turned lazy, nothing but grinding and touching. Jimin’s hair was messy beneath the pull of your fingers. He didn’t seem to mind, his own hands digging into the curve of your thigh. Playing with the hem of your dress, he deftly slid upwards.

“Jimin,” you said, breaking free. “Unzip me.”

His gaze darkened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Jimin nodded, following suit when you sat up beside him. Turning around, you exposed your back and Jimin began to lower the zipper. He moved slowly, taking his time as his fingers brushed skin. Holding the dress up with your hands, you waited until it was fully unzipped before releasing it to the floor.

Turning around, you found Jimin’s jaw slack.

“You…” He roughly inhaled while he scanned your body. “Lace, Y/N? Really?”

“Do you like it?” you asked.

You may have gone overboard preparing for tonight. Although you hadn’t been sure what would happen, you also hadn’t wanted to be caught off your guard. Tonight, your constant need to plan had come in handy. Beneath your dress you’d worn a crimson lace bra and panties – a matching set which Jimin seemed to like, based on his expression.

“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, lowering his lips to your neck.

Kissing slowly down your chest, he came to a stop where the two halves joined together. Skimming the length of your torso, his hands trembled a little when he brushed the lace.

Jimin looked up. “I’m sorry I keep touching you,” he murmured. “I just – you’re driving me crazy. You’ve been driving me crazy.”

“You said that before,” you whispered.

“I meant it.”

Kissing again up your body, he lingered in places your skin was exposed. Inhaling, your eyes fluttered shut as you grasped his shoulders.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs. “Part them,” he murmured, and you obeyed.

Heart racing, you opened your eyes and watched Jimin drag a finger slowly up the center of your panties. Even you could feel how damp the fabric was, how wet and ready you were for him.

Lifting his finger to his lips, Jimin sucked. “You’re soaking,” he breathed, sounding eager. “So good to me.”

Lowering his head, his tongue flicked your breast. Teasing the nipple through fabric, he urged and he sucked until it was fully erect. Moving onto the next one, Jimin grazed with his teeth until it pressed wantonly into the lace cup of your bra. Moaning his name, you arched against him.

Finding your wrists, Jimin pinned you backwards as he continued. Thighs caging your waist, he kept you hostage with his exquisite torture. The lace of your bra was now drenched, Jimin sucking debauchedly through fabric.

“Jimin,” you groaned, twisting on the sheets. “Please.”

His hips rolled lazily against your center. “Not yet,” he insisted before pulling back. “Not until you make a mess of my sheets. Want to ruin these panties.”

Sliding a hand between your thighs, he lightly circled your entrance. Feeling how wet you were, Jimin softly groaned. Sitting back on his heels, he finally relented and pulled your panties down. Tossing these to the floor, he returned to your thighs and spread your legs.

Lightly, Jimin dragged the pads of his thumbs up and down your panty line. “God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured. “Got my sheets fucking soaked.”

Separating two of his fingers, he slowly dragged his digits up and down your folds. You inhaled, feeling needy while you watched him touch you. Each brush of his fingers had you dripping – teasing over your entrance, he refused to give you exactly what you wanted. Feather-light, Jimin circled your swollen clit with his finger.

Hands gripping the sheets, you could only stare while Jimin brought you closer and closer to the edge. He was barely touching you, but it was the most turned on you’d ever been in your life. Jimin’s thumb swiped over your clit, rubbing you gently as you keened in frustration, arching against him.

He continued like this until you were gasping, begging for more and then – only then – did he slide a finger inside you. Legs trembling, you arched on his mattress and stared at him, glassy-eyed. When Jimin began to move in and out, you lost all control.

Lowering his head, he closed his lips over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered as you broke apart.

Barely did he suck before you were coming undone, pulsing around his fingers. Shuddering with pleasure, you collapsed on the bed as you rode out your high. Gently, Jimin pulled out his finger and returned to your lips.

Reaching behind you, he undid the clasp of your bra and tossed this on the floor. Once you were fully naked, he pulled you against him. You felt limp, thoroughly sated, but familiar excitement began to stir at his front pressed to yours. Tilting your head, he gently kissed you while your fingers wound in his hair.

Jimin moved slow, letting you take the lead. Your core continued to throb with oversensitivity, although this seemed to lessen the longer you kissed him. Before long, your nipples were hardening as you rubbed against him. Fingers digging into your thigh, Jimin pulled this over his hip to watch you lazily grind.

Realizing he still wore pants, you lowered a hand, determined to fix this. Jimin helped, dragging the zipper down to throw both these and his boxers down on the floor.

He bent to kiss you again, but you placed a hand on his chest. “Wait,” you murmured. “I want to see you.”

Jimin exhaled, leaning back so you could take in his body. If you’d thought his chest was unreal, it was nothing compared to his trim hips, sculpted thighs and cock nestled between.

“Oh,” you said, dragging a hand down his front.

Jimin shuddered a little. He was already hard, his cock thick and pretty with a reddened tip. It made your mouth water to look at, wanting to lick up the shaft. Reaching between you, you closed your fist around him and slowly jerked him off.

You watched in fascination as Jimin responded. His jaw tightened, abs tense while you teased over his frenulum. His cock responded instinctively, hardening further the longer you touched him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin shook his head. “No more,” he said huskily, taking your hand in his. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Oh?” you murmured, gaze darting lower.

He chuckled, a rough sound in his throat. “I like watching you come,” Jimin confessed, his cock hard between you. “It turns me on. I’m… still trying to recover from your last orgasm.”

“Oh,” you said, in a completely different way.

Jimin exhaled, hair falling forward. “I hope that doesn’t weird you out.”

“Does it… weird me out that you like giving orgasms?”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“How else would I put it?”

His grin became devious. “You could ask for another.”

Breathless, you nodded and Jimin’s gaze darkened.

He descended your body, not wasting any time as he positioned himself between your legs. Licking slow up your center, you gasped and instinctively drew your legs higher. Jimin didn’t bother easing you into it. No, now he ate you out like he wanted to.

Kissing your folds, he returned to your clit and sucked this into his mouth. Rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue, he teased and released before you knew what was happening. He continued to do this, spreading you underneath him and bringing you close to coming, only to pull back and leave you maddeningly empty.

Spreading your folds, he began licking sweetly over your clit. This was followed by loose, lazy sucking and more tender flicks. You stared dazedly at him between your legs, the sight more erotic than anything you could’ve imagined.

Grinding his cock into the sheets, Jimin thrust his hips while he pleasured you. You could tell he enjoyed this; each grunt from his lips was more affirmation. Moving lower, he circled your cunt with his tongue just to lap up your juices. You gasped at the sensation, having never felt it before. Flicking your clit with his thumb, Jimin fucked your cunt with his tongue before he slowly withdrew.

Spreading you wide, he returned to your clit and you clasped a hand over your lips before a moan could escape. Each curl of his tongue left you gasping, writhing beneath the pleasurable onslaught of his mouth. Pulling away, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh before he rose up your body.

At your mouth, he kissed your fingers. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he told you. “I want to hear the noises you make, Y/N. It makes me feel good.”

Removing your hand, you slowly nodded.

Jimin just grinned, dropping between your legs to begin eating you out again. This time, you didn’t hold back. Jimin seemed to appreciate this as you slipped further from control. He was so good with his mouth, making you see stars as your legs started to shudder. When he slid his finger inside you and fingered you again, your hands fisted in the sheets.

“Ji-jimin,” you gasped, writhing beneath him. “Jimin, I – oh.”

He began to move faster, adding a second finger as your insides clenched around him. Everything tightened, hovering at a breaking point while Jimin continued, relentless. His mouth on your clit, his fingers inside you – everything broke apart when you came, gasping his name.

Jimin didn’t move, kissing your sex as you slowly came down. He lapped at your sex, licking up your arousal before withdrawing his fingers. Once your breathing had steadied, Jimin returned to the sheets beside you.

“Good?” he breathed, draping an arm over your waist.

“Oh my god, yes,” you exhaled, burying your face in his chest.

He laughed, pulling you closer. Jimin started to pull away, which made you look up and frown.

“What are you doing?” you said.

He paused. “I’m looking for a tissue.”

“Why?”

“I… I’m kind of at a loss here.”

“No, I mean why now,” you said, baffled. “I can come again, Jimin. I want to come with you inside me.”

Jimin stared at you a moment.

“Unless…” Uncertain, you hesitated. “You don’t want to…?”

“Fuck,” Jimin muttered, sounding hoarse. “No – I want to. I really want to. Are you sure, though?” he said, reaching to open the side drawer of his bed.

You grinned when he pulled out a condom, ripping this open.

“I’m sure,” you murmured, moving closer.

Jimin rolled the condom onto himself, pausing before he went any further. Shifting his weight so he hovered over you, Jimin searched your gaze. Reaching lower, you casually stroked his cock and guided him to your center.

He didn’t enter yet, content to take his time. Instead, Jimin bent and kissed you, dragging a hand down your side. His fingers paused at your breast, tweaking your nipple until it stood fully erect. Moving to your waist, he curved under your ass and lifted your hips to his.

Arching upwards, you felt his cock brush your center. The touch made you pant, wanting him inside you and wanting it now. Rolling over his length, you marveled at the feel of him between your legs. Having him so close and not having him inside you was maddening.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he murmured, continuing to thrust between your thighs.

“Please,” you begged him.

“Alright, baby,” he said and rolled you onto your back.

It was the first time he’d used the endearment, sending a wave of warmth through you as your legs parted. Reaching lower, Jimin positioned himself at your entrance. It took him a moment to work his way in; you were so wet, he needed a second try. With only his tip inside, you immediately clenched and buried your head in his shoulder.

Lightly, Jimin brushed a kiss to your hair. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, making you glance up. “I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay.”

Laying slowly back down, you tried to relax while he worked his way deeper. With slow, shallow thrusts, Jimin finally bottomed out and you stared at him in amazement. His cock was thicker than you were used to and stuffed to the brim like this, you felt so full. Glancing down, you saw his hips nestled snugly to yours.

When you looked up, Jimin met your gaze. “I’m sorry,” he exhaled, hanging his head. “I just – I need a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” you blurted, immediately worried.

A smile passed over his lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” He looked up. “You’re just… fuck. I feel like a damn virgin. You’re so tight and wet, I’m losing my mind.”

Hearing him say this sent a shiver through you. Shifting your hips, you reveled in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Jimin groaned. “No,” he protested. “You can’t do that right now.”

“Do what?”

“Try and make me move,” he murmured. “I know you can’t see yourself, so you can’t see how hot you look. Tits out, pussy spread and dripping all over my cock.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

“Sounding like that.”

“Jimin. If you don’t –”

He suddenly thrust deeper, grinding his pelvis against your core and making you groan. Speechless, you stared as he slowly pulled out. Jimin teased you with his tip, moving a few inches back in before he thrust again.

“Oh,” you groaned, jolted upwards on the bed.

His gaze dropped to your chest. “Fuck,” Jimin said quietly, dropping down to an elbow.

He moved again in earnest, thrusting slowly in and pulling back out. It made your breath catch, needing more but loving the torture. It was torture to feel every inch of him and have Jimin continue to hold back. You knew he could go faster, deeper, but wanted to stay in control.

Dropping his head, Jimin slowly kissed your neck. His cock continued to move, fucking you slowly as your legs opened wider.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

Your hips chased after his, hoping to coerce him deeper.

He smirked. “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” you said, arching against him. “I want more.”

“You want it harder?”

As he said this, Jimin increased his strength. Keeping the tempo the same, each thrust of his cock had your lips parting with pleasure.

“Yes,” you whimpered, barely hanging on.

“And faster? You want that, too?”

You nodded, slack-jawed as Jimin sped up the pace. His cock began to pound into you, hand fisting in sheets as he gave it to you hard. Arching underneath him, your hands dragged down his back as Jimin fully let go. With each thrust of his hips, his pelvis brushed your clit and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“More?” he teased, continuing to fuck you.

“More,” you whimpered, sliding your hands up your breasts. Tweaking the nipples, you watched his gaze harden. “I want more, Jimin.”

He immediately moved, as though he’d been waiting for this. Grasping your ankles in one hand, he lifted them high overhead and pulled his cock out. You gasped when he did so, your hands falling to the side while you were put on display. The position pushed your pussy lips together, giving an incredible view of your dripping cunt.

Jimin plunged his cock back inside, nearly making you scream. It felt so deep this way – so deep and hard and deliciously wanton. Jimin fucked you from above, hips slamming into you and making your breasts bounce.

Jimin groaned, his hips never faltering. “Touch them,” he said, lowering your ankles to one shoulder. “Touch your tits for me, baby.”

You obeyed, hands sliding over your breasts to tease your nipples. This sent a shock of pleasure straight to your core and Jimin hammered your g-spot, making you see stars. Jaw slack, you could only lie there and take it while he made you come.

It was too much, the wave of pleasure threatening to overwhelm, but then Jimin leaned forward and you finally snapped. You felt him release into the condom as you fell apart, rope after rope of hot cum inside you.

Eventually, Jimin softened and fell onto his elbow. As he opened his eyes, he sought your gaze and you smiled. His cheeks were flushed, his hair dark and sweaty and you couldn’t help the deep surge of affection within you.

“I don’t know about you,” he murmured. “But that was pretty fucking incredible.”

“Same here,” you whispered. “I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Three orgasms weren’t enough?”

“Were they enough for you?”

“No.” Jimin laughed. “I could watch you come all night. But we should probably get you cleaned up and all that.”

“Probably,” you agreed, although you made no effort to move.

Eventually Jimin sighed and gently pulled out. Tossing his condom in the trash, he showed you to the bathroom and let you do what you needed to do. When you returned, Jimin was on top of his bed. He’d put back on his boxers and held out his sweatshirt.

“I thought you might want this,” he said, uncertain.

Smiling, you took it and lowered it over your head. Climbing beside him on the bed, you rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled beside him. Listening to his breathing, you concentrated until yours started to match.

Outside, cheers erupted from the street. Scrambling upwards, you fought to look out Jimin’s side window. As you hurried to see what the commotion was about, Jimin groaned when you flashed him your bare ass, but followed suit.

Glancing outside, you realized it must have turned midnight. Fireworks went off over the skyline, people cheered below, and someone had lit a sparkler on the street. Voices drifted higher, wishing each other a happy new year as slowly, you turned around to face Jimin.

He smiled at you, his happiness clear when he pulled you to him. A dizzying rush of what-if’s and excitement went through you and somehow, you knew this would be only the beginning.

“Happy new year,” he murmured.

“Happy new year,” you whispered, tilting your face up to his.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this series 😊 It’s been a whirlwind, so thank you for sticking with our main characters throughout the journey! I hope you enjoyed and are having a wonderful holiday season :) happy (almost) new year!

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jimin smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts series #bts writing #jimin series #jimin writing #bts dance au #jimin dance au

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teasty · 3 years

Text

kiss yourself (03) || h.js

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader

● genre: angst, smut, (kinda) fluff || fwb to lovers au || college!au || non!idol au

● words: 10.4k

→ summary: It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules.

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately.

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

a/n: a lot happens in this chapter,, it's pretty fast paced but it is what it is ~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | CHAPTER THREE

“I want you to fuck me dumb, Jisung. I want to think about nothing but you.”

You refused to cry, no matter how bad you wanted to.

You didn’t actually head back to the dorm, deciding you weren’t tired enough to fall asleep fast enough and that you simply wanted to have the comfort of being alone for the time being. You’re so fed up, so irritated and stressed, not even Jisung fucking you over and over again until you’re too weak to even speak could fix it. Neither did you feel like dealing with Jeongja, so you headed straight for the 24/7 cafe a few blocks away from the school. You didn’t go there often, but you went there a few times with Jisung in the mornings. You weren’t as familiar with the place like he was, but you knew for a fact that it was open all day, every week day.

There was only one other person in the cafe. A young, tired looking woman who typed vigorously on her laptop, which was plugged into the wall along with her phone, which she listened to whatever on. She must be a college student, since she had a backpack at her feet and a lanyard hanging from her pocket. You didn’t recognize her, so she was probably your senior. She gave you a subtle glance before turning back to her laptop, and you ignored her. Walking (more limping) up to the cashier.

“Welcome. It’s pretty late,” said a man who didn’t seem too young, but nor too old. Probably in his mid - twenties. He had a small stubble on his chin and his longish hair is tied back, a few rebellious strands framing his decently structured face. You could make out his toned chest and broad shoulders underneath the beige button up he wore, a dusty pink apron around his waist, accompanied by a pair of black slacks. He’s attractive, you couldn’t deny. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too late for a pretty little lady like you to be walking around, alone, in a tee shirt?”

“I’m fine on my own,” you admit, “I’ve been here a few times, but I can’t remember the menu. Mind handing me one?” The man nods, reaching over something to grab a one sided menu, and he hands it to you. After glancing over it, you felt too nauseous to eat, but you needed caffeine, something to keep you going since sleep wasn’t going to be an option for you tonight. “Can I just get an americano? Make it large, please, I need it.”

“Oh, coffee at this hour?” He chuckles.

“This is a coffee shop,” you glance around, a little agitated.

“Yeah, yeah,” the man laughs out, waving a hand as he pressed a few buttons on the cash register, “I’m just teasing you, sweetheart. Is that all you want? An americano, large?”

“No, get me the green tea, too,” you sigh, placing down the menu. It’s not like you to get bitter drinks, let alone two. You’re actually more of a sweets kind of person. But, since you’re not feeling too well, you just want hot, bitter drinks to keep you from going insane.

The man nods, “Hmm, tough night?” You nod slowly, “Surprised you came to a coffee shop. Most people who have rough nights usually hang around at the bar down the road. What made you come here of all places?”

“Well, it’s the first place I thought of,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t want a hangover in the morning either. I always know how those go. Never had the best luck when I’m drunk.” You chuckle, smiling wistfully for a moment before it turns into a bitter frown at the thought of your vague first time with Jisung. You shake your head slowly, subtly. It wasn’t a mistake. Not at all. It wasn’t bad luck. But, right now, it kind of feels like it. You’ve gotten more attached to Jisung than you have the years before you both started fucking around. “Plus, my friend used to bring me here. Thought I’d see the place alone.”

“Well, I appreciate you stopping by,” the man smiles down at you, and you give him a brief one back, “What’s your name? What should I put as the name, sorry.”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” you grumble out your name.

“Are you a foreigner?”

“No. My parents just aren’t born here,” you respond, having gotten the question hundreds of times in the past.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/N) (L/N),” the man smiles, and you chuckle softly as he rings up the order, “My name is Jeongguk. I assume you go to the college down the road?” Jeongguk asks as you sit on one of the stools at the counter. You sigh, your shoulders dropping as you nod slowly. Watching as Jeongguk prepares the americano. “Ah, I used to go there. I already graduated.”

“What was your major?” You ask curiously.

“I was a fine arts major. I only have my undergrad, but I’m saving up to go back and get my masters,” Jeongguk says.

“Oh,” your eyes brighten, intrigued by the sudden conversation, “If you don’t mind me asking, what’ll you do with your masters once you get it?”

Jeongguk sighs, his head tilting slightly as he focuses his eyes on the drink in his hand, perfecting it, “I’m not sure, actually. There’s a lot of things I could do. I could just work under a company to make things for ‘em, like designs and shit like that. But, I’m more into painting. Heh, but there’s not much painting can get for you nowadays. I haven’t seen many jobs that take in painters, so I’m reconsidering whether or not painting should be my go - to.”

“Right,” you nod, completely understanding, “It’s an amazing skill to have, though. You could probably start up on social media and sell your works worldwide.”

“Social media’s never been my forte, but it’s a thought,” Jeongguk passes you the americano, and you don’t hesitate to take a sip of the hot drinking, cringing slightly at the bitter taste. But, you soon get used to it. “What’s your major?”

“Political science,” you chuckle.

“Oh - ho! We got a smarty - pants over here, now don’t we?” Jeongguk jokes as he grabs a white, bulky mug from a shelf. You chuckle, a bit flusters. Already feeling better from this conversation with him, “The only person I knew in political science was Chris! You know Chan? Bang Chan?”

“Yeah, he’s on my committee, we’re friends,” you shrug a shoulder.

“Nice. Let him know I said hi, won’t you?” You nod quickly, taking another sip of the coffee, “Is it as much work as they say?”

“Well, with this dumb team I was pressured into, yeah, it’s a lot more than most other people with different majors seem to have,” you answer, and Jeongguk nods slowly, listening intently as he puts a kettle filled with water on a small stovetop. He then turns to you and leans against the bar table separating you both, “It’s fine, though. I’m just doing it to get a job so I can provide myself with enough money to get what I need and a bit more to have what I want. People in that field get lots of money, you know?”

“Yeah, just depends on what you decide to be,” Jeongguk nods.

“I guess you’re right,” you nod slowly, “I’m most likely to graduate with my bachelors, but I’m gonna take law so I can be a lawyer. Either tort or criminal, I don’t mind.”

“Ah, those are tricky fields in law, aren’t they,” Jeongguk chuckles, and you nod slowly, “Well, I wish you the best of luck. By the way, when did you and Chris become friends? I’ve been friends with him for a few years, now, and I don’t recall him being with you.”

“Oh, I only befriended him at the beginning of the year,” you say, and Jeongguk nods, “I went to a party with my friend and met him there. We’re also on the same committee for planning for the school, so we got pretty close.”

“You mean the huge party right before school started up, don’t you?” You nod slowly, “Mm. I know just what party you’re talking about. I think I might’ve seen you. You looked familiar when you walked in, so it’d make sense. Let me guess, were you with one of Chris’s buds? I forget his name, but I think his family name is Han, right?”

Your eyes instantly roll, and you nod, “Yeah. Han Jisung. I went with him.”

“Ouch, what a reaction,” Jeongguk laughs, noting your eyes which rolled sassily, “Did he do something to you?”

“It’s a long story.” You admit. It’s not too long, actually. It could be simplified, but you didn’t want to talk about it to a stranger.

“I have time,” Jeongguk says, smiling brightly.

You raise a brow, “So do I, and I’m going to spend it drinking my coffee.” Jeongguk raises his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. Have it your way,” And finally, Jeongguk finished your tea and gave it to you.

You both talked for the remainder of the night (well, morning) until the sun came up. You had about five coffees, trying different kinds that Jeongguk suggested, and another green tea with honey in it. You learned that Jeongguk graduated early, mostly since he didn’t have enough money, but he was also ahead of the rest of the year by a long run, so he privately graduated. He didn’t start working at the coffee shop until a few months ago, and works the night shift and was the only one there. Apparently, no one usually came in during his shift except for travellers passing by or the tired college students, which were more likely to come by and study.

You didn’t even notice it was morning until Jeongguk’s face illuminated with the sunlight over the city’s buildings. You both traded numbers, and you promised to come again during his shift on his days. He said he’d text you, but you weren’t too sure he would. You were at least thankful to not be totally alone that night, since part of you knew that Jisung was going to get to your head, and you’d be either upset or angry. Jeongguk was able to rid your mind of him, even if only for those five or so hours you sat there, talking to him.

But, once you walked into your dorm to change into a quick pair of different clothes, all you could think about is Jisung. Debating your feelings.

You, however, constantly repeated to yourself that you didn’t even like him like that. He’s only a friend. Only a friend. Have it be with or without benefits, he’s only a friend.

You decided to just wear a pair of baggy sweats and an old hoodie, not caring much for your appearance. Although there’s tons of caffeine running through your system, you were still exhausted from the lack of sleep, and your mood had been dropped. You knew there was probably going to be another meeting today with Chunae, but you couldn’t be too sure. You didn’t get any work done last night (obviously), and you don’t know whether or not you’ll hear it from her or not, whether or not she’ll pull you out of class again for a meeting you could care less about.

You didn’t see Jisung for the first few hours of school, per usual. He didn’t try texting you nor calling you, which you were a bit skeptical about, but you tried to ignore it. You’re supposed to be agitated with him. And, you are. You still cared for him, and you still miss him despite it being only one night. But, then again, he probably didn’t miss you the way you missed him.

He would miss you, sure. But he wouldn’t miss the way you kiss him, right? He wouldn’t miss the way you hold him. The way you love him.

But, you’re not in love with him.

You can’t be.

You did see Chris, though. He actually walked up to you during passing hall and pulled you aside, against a wall. He wore a concerned, tired look as he folded his arms. Staring down at you, and rose a brow. It was silent for a moment until you emit a low, “What?”

“What’s going on between you and Jisung?” Christopher says sternly, and your blood runs cold right then and there. Your eyes widen and your brows raise as you stare up at him. Did he know? You’re too scared to answer.

“What… do you mean?” You utter out.

“Jisung called me last night asking if you were at my dorm last night at, like, midnight. Woke me up when I should’ve gotten sleep…” Christopher grumbles, rubbing his temple, “He said he thought you would have run off to my place. Didn’t say shit as to why, though. Didn’t say a damn thing. The boy even asked me to go to your dorm to see if you were there, but no one answered. I figured you were asleep. I just need to know why Jisung had to call me at fucking midnight ‘cause of you.” Christopher’s Australian accent slips into his Korean, which means he’s probably both irritated and tired.

“Oh… I’m sorry. No, I was out at some coffee shop until, like, five in the morning last night,” You answer truthfully, and Christopher sighs, “Oh, and by the way. I talked to Jeongguk there. He said hello.”

“Really, now? Jeon Jeongguk?” Christopher asks, and you shrug a shoulder, “Well, I appreciate it. Tell the guy I miss him. But, that’s not the point. At this point, I’m kind of concerned. I went over my conversation with Jisung last night all morning and yet I can’t find a single reason why you would be running to my dorm like he thought or why he didn’t go see you himself. Did he do something wrong?”

“It’s not that it’s wrong. I’m just upset about it,” you answer, and Christopher nods slowly.

“Do you mind telling me what that is? If you do, it’s a possibility I can help,” Christopher suggests, but you smile and slowly shake your head.

“It’s not something you can help with this time, Chan,” You sigh, “It’s a bit too personal.”

“Okay, now I’m really concerned. I might have been Jisung’s friend longer, but I care about you, too, (Y/N). Please tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s happening between the two of you. And if it’s really that personal, I promise on my life not to tell anybody,” Christopher says.

You sigh and look around before grabbing the man’s hand and pulling him away to somewhere more private. He didn’t argue, but he seemed a bit surprised at how quickly you acted. You pulled him out to the courtyard, not caring much for being tardy, anymore. Your heart thumped in your chest. The rules vividly recite themselves in your mind; “No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.”

Well, here goes one rule flushed down the toilet.

Once you stopped, Christopher shoves his hands in his pocket, shrugging his shoulders at you, “Okay, now what is it?”

You shake your head slightly, debating whether or not to tell him. If Jisung found out, it’d be the death of you. But, you don’t know if you should be excited about that or scared. You’re not sure how he’d react to such news from Christopher.

You know what, fuck it, you thought to yourself.

“Well?”

“We’ve been fucking since the party,” you blurt out, and Christopher’s brows raise in shock. At both the news and how flat toned and blunt you were being. “I got a bit too tipsy and we ended up having sex. We made specific rules, which is so dumb of me to say since one of them is to literally tell nobody. Which means you can’t tell anyone and you can’t let Jisung know that you know this or he will kill me, Chan. Kill me, got it? Whatever, it… he and I had a bit of a fight after doing it last night.”

“But why?” Christopher carefully asks.

“Because he’s after a girl. A girl I’m not too fond of,” you admit.

“Chunae, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?” You raise a brow, glad he isn’t overreacting to your confession to sleeping around with Jisung.

“Let’s just say that he’s been flirting with her every chance he gets,” Christopher admits, and you sigh softly, looking down in disappointment, but trying your hardest not to make it too obvious about how upset you were, “They share some classes, and he’s apparently been talking to her every chance he gets. Not to mention, Chunae seemed pretty into him, too.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you sigh, tiredness suddenly coming over you, as well as exhaustion, “We fought about it, but I’m the one in the wrong. He has every right to like someone and want to date someone. But… I dunno.”

“Do you love him?” Christopher asks slowly, and you take a seat at the nearest bench, Christopher following behind you and sitting next to you.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully in a small voice, “I really don’t know. One part of me misses him so much whenever I’m without him. One part of me loves him, but the other part just tells me that he’s only my friend and nothing more. But, yeah. He wanted me to stay the night at his dorm, but I didn’t since he only had me over and treated me well because he’s going to cut things off soon.”

“Do you want him to cut things off?”

“No!” You yell, a little too upset with the situation, and Christopher breaths in through his nose. You cover your face with his hands, slightly muffled by your hands, “I don’t! But he says that we will, and I-” you don’t bother to look up, cutting yourself off before you start crying out of nowhere. Your head hurt from the lack of sleep, but your eyes hurt from the need and resistance to cry.

Christopher placed a warm hand on your back, and you breath slowly.

“I don’t want him to leave me, Chris… I really don’t,” you shake your head slightly. Christopher’s hand massages your back and shoulders reassuringly. His warm hand giving you the reassurance you needed.

“I know, (Y/N), I know. It’s alright,” he sighs, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you into a hug. You don’t resist it. In fact, you lift yourself up to let your hands grip onto his shirt to hug him tightly, “If you’ll like, I can talk to Jisung. I won’t tell him that I know about the… benefits… but, I’ll let him know that you just don’t feel comfortable about his relationship with Chunae, alright? How does that sound?” Christopher’s voice is sweet and soft, calming you from your growing tears.

“That sounds perfect, Channie… thank you,” you whisper softly, your head burrowed in his chest.

It’s weird being held by another man. Another man that isn’t Han Jisung. It’s nice, especially since Christopher has such a loving and gentle personality. His hands hug you without any awkwardness, and it’s nice that someone other than Jisung can hug you without being uncomfortable.

But, your comfort was soon taken away when Christopher let’s go of you and shifts in his seat. You look up, and you see someone familiar walking towards you both. At first, your tears — blurred eyes make it impossible to see who it is, but once your eyes are cleared, Han Jisung’s perfect face comes into view. His face is stoic, his lips down turned in a subtle frown. His eyes are focused on you, and you stand up in your spot, clutching your backpack to get ready to leave.

“Don’t you dare move, (Y/N),” Jisung yells loudly, and you freeze at the spot. Christopher’s eyes widening from how aggressive Jisung sounded. Once he’s directly in front of you, he finally looks over to Christopher, and steps towards him, “I asked you to check up on her, Chan. Not do whatever the fuck you guys were doing just now.”

“What, comforting her?” Christopher stands his ground, standing up despite them both being the same height, “Something you should have been doing instead of me?”

Your hand clamps over your mouth. Jisung’s brows furrow, and his fists clench, but he doesn’t do anything, “I asked you a simple favor. To check up on her for me.”

“And that’s what I was doing,” Christopher defends himself, and you watch curiously. Neither of them spare you a glance, both staring at each other, “I’m not trying to pick a fight here, Jisung. But, it’s not my place to take care of her in… your situation.” Christopher looks Jisung up and down, and Jisung wears a disgusted look on his face. “I only asked what the fuck you did for you to think she was running off to me. ‘Cause, she was actually at the fucking coffee shop all damn morning talking to Jeongguk.”

“Jeongguk?” Jisung’s brows furrow, and he looks over to you briefly. You slowly nod, “Did you sleep at all last night?” You slowly shook your head, and Jisung groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. He turns back to Christopher, “Can you leave, Chan? I need to talk to her.”

Christopher looks past Jisung to you, and you shake your head slowly. Somewhat afraid of being alone with Jisung just for what you will talk about. However, Christopher gives you an apologetic look before turning back to Jisung, “Fine. Call me later (Y/N). If you don’t, I’m stopping by your dorm to check up on you.”

“Alright… Bye, Chan…” You mumble loudly back, and Christopher gives Jisung a subtle glance before grabbing his things and walking away.

You sat back down, half expecting Jisung to do the same. But, no, he stood in front of you. Towering over you as you stared at your feet. His hands stuff themselves into his hoodie’s pockets, and there’s a tense silence.

“Jisung…”

“Why did you run off like that last night, (Y/N)?” Jisung immediately cuts you off, and you can’t find yourself having the courage to look him in the eyes. You felt embarrassed for yourself, but you had to stay and talk to him. You don’t know how to answer. You don’t have a straight answer in your tired mind. “Answer me, (Y/N). We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep quiet.”

“I don’t know, Jisung,” you breathe out, gripping the bench below you, “I… Was just irritated.”

“Why?” Jisung crouches down so you can’t avoid his eyes. Unlike how you thought, Jisung’s eyes were more concerned than angry, like you thought they’d be. His hand escapes his pocket to rest on your knee, “I knew you weren’t irritated. You were just fine before I started talking about Chunae.”

Caught red handed. You stared at him like a deer in headlights, and your lips purse, trying your hardest to find an answer.

“I don’t know, Jisung. I really don’t,” you whisper to him pitifully, and Jisung shakes his head.

“No… No, I know you know the answer, (Y/N). I can make everything better if you just talked to me,” Jisung says in a voice you rarely heard. He’s usually joking around or simply has such an upbeat attitude. It’s so rare to see Jisung this serious, it almost makes you want to cry by how it affects you so. The way his voice lowers, relaxing and calming, yet stern. The way his eyes weren’t bright or happy, but not cold or angry.

It was almost scary.

“You say that as if there’s something wrong with me,” you try to chuckle bitterly, dodging his stare. But, his head moves with yours, and his hand that rests on your knee rises to firmly cup your cheek, turning your head to look directly at him with no exceptions.

“Because there is. There’s something you’re not telling me,” Jisung answers.

“Jisung,” your voice hardens, your heartbeat rising as Jisung’s words tug and pull at your heart, “I need to get to class. I’m already very late.”

“No, you’re staying here until we figure this out,” Jisung’s other hand grips your wrist, tugging at it, even though you never moved to get up in the first place. He seemed on edge, and took a brief glance behind him before turning back to you, “You’re my best friend for life, (Y/N). You know that. I care so much for you, and if there’s something wrong with my decisions, then I need you to tell me.”

“I…” your eyes close for a minute, nibbling on your bottom lip before looking up at him, “I don’t want you to cut things off between us, Jisung. I want to keep doing this… whatever this is. It makes me happy, Jisung.”

“Oh, (Y/N)...” Jisung sighs softly, his head dipping for a moment before he looks up at you with a pitiful smile, “Is that why you were mad last night?”

“So what if it is? You won’t do anything about it,” you answer, and Jisung’s brows furrow, “Even if I begged on my knees for you to keep doing this with me, you’d still reject me, wouldn’t you?”

“I — (Y/N), you know that I—“

“Wouldn’t you?” You cut him off, your glossy eyes boring into his. His hand falls from your face, resting on your thigh, and he squeezes it slightly.

“It depends…” Jisung answers truthfully, “On what I’m rejecting you for.” Your frown deepens, upset with his answer. Even so, you would’ve been upset if he said no. “If it’s for something stupid, like someone told me to stop or I had moral changes, hell no. But if it were for something like… like Chunae and I… then yes.”

You don’t answer him. You just stare at him, blinking every so often to try and keep away the growing tears. He would choose Chunae over you. Of course. You should have known. Everyone loved Chunae. Chunae deserved everyone’s love for how pretty, smart and proper she is. Of course Han Jisung would reject the sassy, immature and lazy (Y/N) (L/N) for a perfect woman like Chunae. You’re not a perfect woman. Not at all.

Not for Han Jisung.

It was then, at that moment of thoughts of Chunae and Jisung running through your head that you came to a sudden realization as you stared into Jisung’s worried eyes.

You’re in love with him.

You’re in love with Han Jisung. Your best friend.

“Get away from me,” you mumble.

“What…?” Jisung’s brows furrow.

“I said get away from me,” your broken voice whimpers out, “You make everything so much harder for me. Everything…” You shove away his hands and stand up, but Jisung is quick to scramble up and wrap his arms around your waist, his chest pressed against your back as his face burrows into your neck.

Your heart burns badly. It’s painful, too painful. You feel as though you’re going to collapse from how painful it is.

“Don’t go, yet. Please. You’re confusing me, (Y/N),” Jisung whispers into your neck, his warm breath sending tingles down your spine.

“No. I said get away from me,” you try and push him away, scooping your arms under his to try and push him away. But, Jisung is oddly persistent.

But, you eventually get away, grabbing your things and dashing off.

“No, (Y/N), wait! Please!” Jisung yells after you, but you're already to the building doors, throwing yourself into the building and dashing to the girl’s bathroom to recollect yourself.

And, thankfully, it’s empty. You throw your backpack down and lean against the sink. Finally, you let the tears fall. They fell down your cheeks fast and hot, the aching feeling of relief in your mind allowing you to breath slowly as the tears dripped mercilessly down your face, showing no signs of stopping.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you cried. You were quiet. Making no sound other than sniffling here and there. You don’t even try to wipe away the tears that stain your face, too bothered and eager to cry to do so. Your eyes grow red and big, your cheeks reddening from the tears and your heart aching badly in your chest.

Once the thought of being in love with Han Jisung enters your mind, you look away from yourself. Your head falling, and you grip your hair. Shaking your head in your arms, Letting out muffled, “No, no, no!”s as you started to weakly, softly sob. Your body trembles with your tears.

You can’t be in love with Han Jisung. It’ll only end in your heartbreak. Jisung will cut things off immediately, and probably push you away once he finds out. You can’t for the life of you let him find out. You’re too scared to tell him yourself, so you have to keep it a secret from anyone who might be able to tell him and have him believe it. It’s too risky, so you’d have to keep this painful secret to yourself, no matter how badly you wanted to babble on and on about how much you hate this feeling and about how good he makes you feel, emotionally and physically.

You didn’t say a word to anyone after your short breakdown in the bathroom. You soon grew too tired to cry, and too stressed to go back to class, so you waited out that period before your lunch hour would come by. You didn’t know where to go. There would be girls hogging the bathroom, and hundreds of other students roaming the campus. You really didn’t want to be around people at this point, but you didn’t have much of a choice in the first place.

So, you went to the courtyard. You called Christopher, telling him about what happened, and he said he was going to be there right away and to meet him by the outdoor canteen. So, you sat at an empty table, waiting.

You scrolled mindlessly through your phone, wearing a blank, stoic expression as nothing was present in your all — too tired mind. Your backpack resting against your leg as you waited.

When you hear loud footsteps coming near, you look up. Not expecting who it was at first. It’s Chunae, and she looks on edge and upset. Her perfectly tinted lips frown darkly at you, and she stops in front of you.

“And where were you last class period?” She asks, and you raise your brow, turning off your phone and resting it on the table.

“Not there? Why do you care?” You scowl back at her, staring up at her with a dark glare. However, she doesn’t seem to back down, only to get angrier.

“I was supposed to give you more papers for people to contact, as well as parents and volunteers,” she throws a stack of papers in front of you. And you gawk at it. She already gave you so much shit to do beforehand, why the hell is she giving you more? You already have enough work, she should know that. She knew as well as the rest how busy political students are. And she had the audacity to throw a stack of papers on your desk and demand you to analyze and contact each person? “I want them done by this weekend, no exceptions.”

“You don’t get to decide that, Chunae,” You scoff, smiling bitterly at her. Your own anger rising, “I already have enough shit from the other stack of documents you thrusted down my throat on top of my school work. I’m not doing all this shit in less than a week!” You nearly yell, but you don’t raise your voice too much. You thrust an angry finger at the stack.

“Listen, (Y/N),” Chunae sighs, “I’m not in the best of moods right now. I don’t want to deal with bullshit right now when we’re on a tight schedule. This event is in danger of being shut down completely if we don’t finish it soon.”

“And does it look like I give two shits?” You sarcastically smile.

“Don’t joke with me, (Y/N), and please control your language. It’s giving me a headache.”

“Oh, boo — hoo,” you roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair, “What do you want? A cookie?”

“Don’t, (Y/N). I swear.” Chunae vaguely threatens, and you smirk.

“You swear what?” You urge, standing up slowly. Taking a step towards her, and she takes a small one back. Her expression doesn’t change. Her dead, yet beautiful brown eyes glaring into yours, “What’ll you do? Give me more paperwork? Tell me off to Daddy? Punch my teeth in?” You glare down at her hand, cocking a snarky brow at it before glaring at her, “I’d like to see you try to lay a finger on me.”

“Like you could do any better,” Chunae snaps, and you’re surprised how she’s snapping back instead of de — escalating the situation. It makes you excited. The urge to punch her only grew, “Your words are louder than your actions, (Y/N). Don’t underestimate me.”

You laugh loudly, “Ha! That’s funny! You… scary? Hey, I give an A- for effort, how about it?” You elbow her arm jokingly before turning back to glare through the paperwork she so selfishly threw your way.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” Chunae snaps.

“You forget who’s older.”

“You forget who has Han Jisung.”

You freeze. The paper falling out of your hand as you turn slowly to see a smirking Chunae. Smiling as though she killed off her worst enemy. Your mouth falls open, and you scoff.

“What… the fuck did you just say?” You grumble darkly, her hands balling into fists at your sides.

“I said… You forget who has Han Jisung,” she repeats slowly.

You had heard her loud and clear. Just like you heard Jisung when he confessed his adoration for Chunae. You were just in shock. You did not expect this out of someone like her. And, just like that, all your respect was lost for the woman. She crossed a border she could never escape. She’s crossed a line she can never retract over. She’s pushed buttons inside you that can’t be fixed.

“I dare you to say that again.” You growl through gritted teeth, and in the corners of your eyes, you can see Christopher walking up. But, a small crowd had started to watch you and Chunae. He stops by them, deciding not to intervene physically.

“(Y/N)?” Christopher yells, and you turn your head to him. “Is…” He grows silent when he sees your angry glare.

You turn back to Chunae, Christopher watching silently, prepared if anything happens. He pulls out his phone, and presses a few buttons before pressing it to his ear. Speaking to the person on the other line under his breath. You could care less, though, and you mainly focused on Chunae.

“I said I dare you to say that again!” You finally yell, and the people in the canteen grow silent. All heads turning to the both of you, and Christopher continues talking on the phone to whoever it is. Your hand flies up, gripping the hem of Chunae’s blouse. Pulling her intimidatingly close. You’re slightly taller than her, so she looked up at you.

Chunae only chuckles softly, “I have Han Jisung… He’s mine, isn’t he?”

As if on cue, your fist, knuckling white from clenching it so hard, comes into contact with Chunae’s cheek right as an out of breath Han Jisung comes running to the scene. But, you’re too busy to pay him any mind.

Of course, like you expected, Chunae flies to the ground. Immediately cupping her face and letting out a brief cry. And, just like that, you’re the bad guy. You sigh and roll your eyes. Shaking off your hand, which aches slightly from the impact on her defined cheekbone. You turn to Christopher and Jisung. Jisung stands there, staring between you and Chunae, who lay on the ground, holding her black and blue face. Christopher just gawks at you.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?!” Jisung yells.

“Hey, before you overreact, I can explain…”

But, you’re quickly cut off when you feel a yank at your ankle, and you let out a yelp as you get yanked down. Your body yanked down, and the top of your head slams against the table you were sitting out, letting out a loud thunk through the air. And, you can briefly see Jisung trying to run up, but Christopher holds him back briefly.

Your hand flies up to your head, dizziness overtaking you as your mind falls blank for a second. Your head begins to throb, and you hiss through your teeth. However, you’re not gifted with enough time to get over the pain like Chunae did before she towers over you. Her high heels are kicked off, and she presses the ball of her foot into your chest, forbidding airway.

You’re a little too dizzy to think, but you’re conscious enough to react. Your hand flies up on instinct, your hands gripping her ankle and twisting it with your hands, causing her to fall. Before she could have time to get back up, you climb back on top of her and straddle her stomach.

She kicked and struggled, but your hands gripped her wrists (all too familiar with this position with the help of Jisung), pinning them to the ground. Your head aches, throbbing painfully. You’re still dizzy, trying to stay conscious from both the lack of sleep and from your head hitting the table.

“Hey! Hey, calm down. Just, oh fuck, my head. Oh, my god, Chunae, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You grumble as you squeeze your eyes shut, as if that would ease the pain. But, it doesn’t.

Jisung and Christopher eventually come over. Jisung’s arms wrap around you, just below your breasts as he pulls you off. You don’t struggle, but Chunae does. Christopher struggles pulling Chunae away, who still tries to pummel you.

She got a good hit on you. But it wasn’t really her. She just yanked your ankle, which threw your head against the table. You melted into Jisung’s arms, and he helped you to your feet carefully. Every movement made your headache worse. It blistered your head, sending shots of pain through your body. You tried your best to stay conscious, but it was a bit more difficult than one might seem. So, you focused on the way Jisung’s hands held you to try and keep you awake.

You faintly heard a teacher running over, asking about what the hell was going on. Jisung excused him, saying that there was a fight but it’s been handled and he’s taking you to the nurse’s office. So, the professor let you and Chunae go without much argument (probably not wanting to deal with something like this in the middle of the day.

But, Jisung didn’t take you to the nurse’s office. Christopher did, though, dragging a struggling Chunae away to the nurse’s office with no help. Jisung whispered incoherent words to you as one of his hands gripped your waist, the other holding your hand as you stumbled on your own two feet. Your vision blurred and your stomach erupted in pain. You had a concussion, all because Chunae as able to swipe at your ankle.

You were in too much pain to think clearly, hanging onto Jisung, “Ji… my head hurts so fuckin’ bad.” Your words are muffled by the lump in your throat that grew from the pain.

“I know, baby. She got you pretty good, didn’t she,” Jisung’s soft words seem to calm your head a bit, but it goes away the moment your foot plants on the ground to take another step, “It’s alright… I’m sure she wasn’t in a good mood, that’s all.”

“Shut up,” you grumble out, and Jisung sighs softly, squeezing your waist briefly as he walks you through a pair of doors and down a hall.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). Let’s not talk about Chunae right now. Let’s just get you to rest for a bit,” Jisung reassured, and you thanked whatever god is out there that he’ll shut up about Chunae.

“Where’re we goin’?” You look around, squinting through your blurred vision, as if that’d help (news flash; it didn’t).

“Back to my dorm,” Jisung answers, and you turn to him, “Jeongin isn’t back, yet, so don’t worry. Besides, we have better shit than the nurse will give you. She’ll just give you an ice pack and tell you to move on with your day, now won't she?” You think about it for a moment, although nothing goes through your mind. But, you agree with him and nod slowly.

The rest of the walk is silent. Sometimes, you’d nearly trip over your own feet, but with Jisung’s hand on your waist, he always caught you and whispered words of reassurance that never truly got all the way through your brain. Eventually though, you both made it to Jisung’s dorm. He unlocked it with one hand easily and threw the white door open. Not bothering to flick on the light before he walked in, kicking the door closed, and sat you on his bed.

Once you sat down, you felt like you’d been holding the world on your shoulders. You got a bit of relief since you weren’t moving around as much, but it still hurt like a bitch. Your head throbbed, everywhere. Your body twitched in pain. You couldn’t think straight nor could you see especially clearly, and you felt like you were about to throw up all of the coffee and tea you’d had this morning.

Jisung shuffled through one of his drawers before pulling out a first aid kit. He took his chair from his desk and rolled it in front of you, sitting on it and placing the first aid kit in his lap before opening it. “Dad always said to keep it handy. Turns out it’s finally coming to good use. I just need to see if there’s a wound on your head.”

And, so, without struggle, you lay forward, your head resting on Jisung’s knee as he gently moved your hair to the sides, looking for something. He did end up finding a bruise on the top of your head and said that it would be best to leave it alone for the time being before icing it. He gave you a few pills of over the counter medication to help ease the pain. But, he seemed a bit conflicted. It was mostly silent, you didn’t really talk since you didn’t have the strength to nor the will to. Chunae might be pretty weak, but with a blow to your head on the table like that… that’ll fuck you up real good.

Once you’re laying against his pillows, Jisung finally pipes up again.

“Come here.”

“Hmm?” You look up, and Jisung’s legs are spread slightly, one hand on his thigh as he looked over to you. His hair shadowing his eyes slightly.

“I said come here, now don’t be stubborn,” He motions you over with his hand, and you groan and squeeze your eye shut as you sit up and slide off of the bed and walk up to him. Jisung guides you around and slowly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“Jisung?” You mumble softly.

“Shh… This is going to help you with the pain, baby,” Jisung whispers against your ear, and you feel his press a gentle kiss to the back of your ear. You breathe in sharply, somewhat knowing where this is going as Jisung’s hand grips at your shirt. “It’ll make your head feel so much better, baby. I’ll make you feel good, alright?”

“Mm… how would that help?” You sighed out, your head already leaning onto Jisung’s shoulder, your eyes closing in relaxation as Jisung’s hands caressed your stomach, nearing both your breasts and your womanhood, but not daring to go near just yet.

“It’ll make all your muscles relax. It’ll make you feel better,” Jisung whispers into your ear, making you shiver, “Don’t you want that? You want me to touch you, babygirl?”

You can’t think straight. All morality and logic is thrown out your mental window, so you nod quickly without thinking. One your hands swiping up to caress Jisung’s neck as he pressed a few light kisses to your ear. “Alright, (Y/N). My sweet baby. Just relax for me, alright?” The praise makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you nearly forget that he’s only your friend. Your legs spread slightly, your back pressing to his chest. Letting him hold your weight. “That’s my good girl. My perfect (Y/N).”

His. His perfect (Y/N). Those words made you happy, oh so happy. Even if a thought couldn’t bear to finish in your head, you still enjoyed such words. It’s a break from the name calling and the dirty talk. It made you feel like the only girl in the world. Like Chunae was never a part of the picture to begin with.

Jisung’s hands slowly unbutton your jeans, his lips still pressing kisses to the side of your neck and your ear. Occasionally whispering short sentences like, “Good girl… That’s right… Oh, baby…” It makes you squirm in his grasp as he undoes your jeans and pushes them off of you. You weakly lift up your hips to help him a little bit as Jisung lets your pants fall to the ground with a low thud. You press your ass against Jisung, your leg spreading a bit more at the feeling of the cold air of the dorm meeting your clothed womanhood, which got wetter by the second.

You let your head lift, resting your head against Jisung’s cheek to let it rest, but you wanted to watch his hands as they softly caressed your thighs. Sending calming chills through your legs and your gut as his warm hands touched your thighs and hips ever so intimately. You melted into his touch, your lips parting to allow your low breaths to become audible. You could feel Jisung’s breath against your ear and your neck, and your neck craned slightly to feel more of it.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N), you know that?” Jisung’s low, sudden voice sent butterflies exploding in your stomach. You whimpered softly in response, not knowing how to respond to such praise, since Jisung was quite the degrader. He’d usually call you all sorts of dirty things. He’s probably taking pity on you since you’re hurt, but it doesn’t matter. It still makes you feel so happy and so turned on. “My beautiful baby…” Jisung whispers, seemingly to himself as his fingers brush over your clothed cunt.

“Jisunggie… don’t talk nonsense,” you utter out, sharply gasping when you feel the base of his fingers press against your clothed labia.

“What nonsense?” Jisung chuckles deeply, his fingers rubbing slowly circles, making your eyes close in bliss and your head rest against Jisung’s shoulder, your hands gripping the arms of the desk chair as Jisung’s other hand squeezes your inner thigh. “Don’t say that it’s nonsense. You’re only lying to yourself.”

You didn’t respond, basking in the pleasure and praise as Jisung’s experienced fingers rubbed along your clothes labia. Soaking your panties through with your juices (yet another pair of perfectly good underwear ruined by Jisung), the outline of your pussy showing through and letting Jisung touch even more sensitive areas.

He goes for a while without actually touching your bare womanhood. Mainly his index and middle finger rubbing and massaging your labia and over your pussy. Jisung’s eyes focused on his hands as he worked them over you. You feel yourself relax, the pain easing from you. You forget about the headache, the dizziness. The nausea and the aching throughout your body; forgotten. All that’s on your mind is how intimately Jisung touches you. How his experienced hands move over your sensitive pussy in such a delicate, yet firm way. So gentle, yet so emphatic.

So loving, yet so bitterly resistant.

Your mind grows blank. Too caught up in the relaxing pleasure and from overcoming your concussion to think straightly. All that keeps your mind wandering is Jisung and Jisung alone. Not Christopher. Not the man, Jeongguk, that you met at the coffee shop. Not even Chunae. Only Han Jisung.

After long minutes of slowly teasing your cunt, soaking your panties with your wetness, Jisung finally bids you one good deed and taps your hip. Guiding you to raise it as he slips them off slowly. Letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor below. You step out of them. Your bottom half now completely exposed, yet you still wear all that’s on your torso. You didn’t care, though. It was better than being fully clothed, anyways.

“Oh, fuck…” Jisung breaths out in a rugged manner as his fingers slowly brush over the lips of your pussy, your sweet wetness seeping from you, already coating Jisung’s fingertips, “You’re so wet for me, baby. So wet for me. It makes me want to fuck you so hard. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You frantically nod against Jisung’s head, watching as his fingers push against your labia and against your core. Firmly pressing against your clit, and your back arches as you grind your hips on his fingers. “But, I won’t. Not yet, anyways. I’m going to make you feel better, not make you scream and give you a headache all over again.”

Jisung chuckles deeply, as if what he just said was nothing more than a joke, but you didn't laugh along. He doesn’t seem to care, though, since you’re obviously so immersed in the way Jisung’s fingers rub your pussy gently. His lips part slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck as his middle finger teases your entrance.

“Jisung, ahh~... Yes, please, just like that…” you whisper out in sharp breaths as Jisung slowly inserts his middle finger into you. Pumping slowly until his knuckles are pressed against your heat. “Fuck, yes… Love your fingers so much, Jisung - ah.”

“I know, baby,” Jisung tenses below you at your words, and his finger slightly curves inside you, making your leg twitch. But, his hand that caressed your thigh gripped your leg, keeping you steady on his lap. “I don’t usually get to finger you like this, do I? Letting my hands do all the work, hmm?”

No, he didn’t. But damn, you wanted him to more often. You didn’t answer, only with a delicate moan as Jisung’s middle finger slowly pumps itself in and out of you. Curving slightly every time it thrusted into you to hit that special spot. Sending chills through your torso as his finger worked inside you so well. Your walls clench around him, despite how he was going slow. It wasn’t painfully slow, but not enough to make you cum quick enough. It’s a slow burn. Slowly building up your sensitivity as his palm pressed against your clit.

“You take my fingers so well, (Y/N) - ah… You’re always so good for me, aren’t you?” Jisung comments, his voice low, yet gentle. Soft to the ear, and not as aggressive and dark as it tended to be during sex. It sent you on an overdrive. It drove you crazy by just his tone of voice. It made your heart ache and your pussy wetter and wetter. “You don’t know how hard this is for me, baby…”

Oh, you knew. You can feel his hard dick pressing against your ass. The only thing keeping you two apart was his few articles of clothing. But, no matter what he was wearing, you could still feel how he ached underneath you. You mentally applauded him, but you were too lost in the lust to actually bid him something of a congratulations for being able to hold back this long (since he was usually pretty desperate to get his dick inside you).

It’s another minute or so until Jisung pushes in another finger. Slowly stretching you out and making you moan even louder. The way his fingers curled ever so slightly inside you, hitting that special spot over and over again drove you insane. His fingers pressing against it firmly with the tips of it. Your mind hazed with lust and desire, and your craving for him grew even bigger and even more intense.

“Shit, Jisung - ah… That feels so good ~,” you moan out as you meet with Jisung’s knuckles, grinding into his fingers.

“Hmm… does it, baby? You feel good?” You nod slowly to his words, and Jisung breathily chuckles, smiling, “See? I said it would help.”

“I don’t care about that…'' you sigh out softly, although it wasn’t entirely the truth and you were thankful that Jisung’s suggestion was able to subside your headache. “I want you to fuck me dumb, Jisung. I want to think about nothing but you.”

Jisung’s fingers stay inside you, his hand pressed against your throbbing pussy as he looks at your face. You already looked so fucked out. So desperate, your eyes craving and needy. “Are you sure?”

You slowly nod, turning your head and pressing a kiss to his lips briefly. It wasn’t too sloppy, but your tongue brushed over his lips, “Yes, Jisung… I want you to make me your bitch…”

“Oh, sweet, sweet (Y/N)...” Jisung chuckles darkly, his hand pulling itself from your pussy, making you twitch and gasp loudly as his wet hand flies up to grip your cheeks. Pushing your head back slightly as his fingers press into your jaw, holding your head in place as you clenched around nothing. Your pussy craves both release and Jisung ever so badly.

“You were my bitch since the beginning,” Jisung’s voice grows familiarly dark, and you try to clamp your legs shut from the chills that run through your womanhood. But, Jisung’s hand yanks your legs apart. “Keep your legs spread for me. I’m going to fuck you until you’re begging for me to stop.”

You let out a breathy moan, and, at first, you thought Jisung was going to pull you into a kiss. But, he didn’t. He chose a rougher path. He quickly pushes you off of him. Standing up and pushing you face first onto the bed. The back of his hand pushing your face down into the sheets, the other guiding your hips up slowly. Spreading your legs for him. Such a dirty position, your dripping pussy on display for no one other than Han Jisung.

But, he doesn’t spend much time staring at your pussy. Instead, his hands grip your wrists, and he grinds his clothed, hard cock against your wet pussy. He let out a breathy moan, leaning over your so he was next to your ear as he whispered, “You see how hard you make me, (Y/N)? You see you fucking riled up you make me? Makes me want to fuck this pussy all damn day. Have you sit on my cock all fucking day, huh?”

You moan out in response, your hair spread as your hoodie fell down. Your bra is slightly exposed, and Jisung pulls himself up. Basically ripping off your bra and tossing it to the side. Not even bothering with the hoodie itself as he tore down his jeans.

You couldn’t watch him, so you knew he was fully exposed when you heard the snap and fall of his boxers. It’s almost an instant when his throbbing head comes out and presses against your pussy. Your lips fall wide open as Jisung rubs his cock over your soaking pussy.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so wet for me,” Jisung moans out lowly, “So ready for my cock, like always. So desperate for me. So needy for me cock, aren’t you? Already so fucked out and I haven’t even put my dick inside you yet. Such a slutty girl…”

You moan out, your back arching, presenting yourself more to him, “Jisung! Jisung, please just fuck me…! I need it so bad, please…So bad…” You breath out rapidly, clutching the sheets.

Jisung lets out a shaky breath in response to your begging, “Since you asked so nicely…”

And, like an instant, Jisung was inside you. His hips pressed against your ass, his hands guiding your hips back to meet with his. You let out loud strings of moans and groans of Jisung’s name and incoherent words as Jisung fucks himself into you, raw. His dick throbs inside your wet walls. You clench around him desperately, your back falling limp as you succumb to the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, (Y/N), you do so well in this po-position, don’t you?” Jisung breathes out raggedly, and you moan loudly in response. Jisung’s hands harshly gripping your hips and waist to have you meet back with his harsh, aggressive thrusts. His cock burns your hot walls, burning in such a blissfully good way, it makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Ji-Jisunggie -ah… It’s so… so good - oh, fuck! Just like that, please, just like that!” You scream out as Jisung props up one of his legs, allowing him to have a better angle to thrust even faster and harder. Ramming his rock hard dick into you with passion. Jisung’s hands trail around your waist and ass once you’ve started to bounce back, meeting with his thrusts on your own.

His hands knead your ass. Spreading your cheeks before firmly pressing them. One of his hands, however, reaches up. Slowly crawling up your back, and his hips stagger a bit as his hands grip a handful of your hair. First, his hand merely presses against your head. But, at some point, he yanks you head back. Forcing you up from the bed, and you use your weak arms as support as Jisung’s hand yanks at your hair. You stare at the wall, but you don’t focus on it. You can’t. Your eyes keep rolling back or crossing, mixing beautifully with your loud moans.

Jisung uses the grip on your hair to give him a steadier rhythm as he thrusted into you. His hips slapping against your ass, making it bounce with every thrust. The sounds of skin slapping, your loud moaning and Jisung’s groans and occasional dirty talk filled the room as Jisung pressed wet kisses to your neck. Suckling on the back of your neck especially, and you moan from the feeling of his tongue being flushed against your sweating skin.

It was so much, his cock, the pulling of your hair and his tongue on your neck. Your mind falls blank, thinking of nothing other than Jisung’s cock. Some drool dribbles down the side of your chin as your eyes water from the pleasure. You can’t say anything more, not even being able to form Jisung’s name correctly. You’re so fucked out, so beautifully fucked out.

Jisung definitely noticed it, too, since it gave him the courage to start biting your sensitive skin. It was more sensitive in some places, and you immediately knew that he left hickeys. He bite them gently, yet firmly before running his tongue over the markings.

Your pussy clenched around him dangerously tight. So tightly, it makes Jisung let out a low, broken moan and makes his hips stagger and twitch as he presses himself deep into you. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, babygirl? You gonna cum for me like the good little slut you are? Cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum for me,” Jisung groans out loudly, pressing your head against the sheets again, muffling your loud moans as you feel your climax nearing.

Your knees buckle as your legs twitch and tense dangerously tightly as you feel yourself cum hard. Jisung slows down slightly, riding you out on your high. Your loud moans turn into high pitched ones as your back spasms from the intensity of it.

Right after you cum, Jisung quickly pulls out of you before shooting ropes of white cum onto your ass. You breathe heavily, trying your best to catch your breath as you listen to Jisung moan loudly once he cums, too. Your pussy clenches around nothing, and you feel your entire body relax. All your muscles calm. Exhaustion washes over you like a tidal wave.

And you’re out like a light.

Jisung was a bit concerned as to why you fell asleep so easily. But, he didn’t argue. He gently cleaned you both up while you slept and changed you into a pair of his clothes after he realized you wouldn’t wake up even if he blew an air horn in your ear. He laid you in his bed, as comfortably as he could make you. He wiped the sweat off of your face and watched your sleeping face for a few minutes before he moved back to his desk, grabbing his laptop from his backpack and opening it. Opening work for his classes, since he’ll be absent for the rest of the day.

You slept exceptionally soundly, and he was thankful for that.

Jeongin actually came back that night, too. At first, he didn’t see you sleeping in Jisung’s bed, but once Jisung motioned for him to be quiet, Jeongin looked over to his bed to see locks of (H/C) hair poking out of the blanket. He wondered why you were here, and Jisung naturally just said that you had gotten into a fight and injured yourself and he was taking you in to take care of you. Jeongin didn’t argue much and minded his own business for the rest of the day.

However, Jisung intended to sleep next to you. But, he couldn’t bring himself to. The guilt piling inside him prevented him from doing so.

#han jisung #jisung #jisung han #han #skz #stray kids #stray kids angst #smut #jisung smut #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #han x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz angst #jisung x reader angst

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foli-vora · 3 years

Text

more than words, pt.2

A/N: Really wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction to pt.1 so thank you all so much for your likes, reblogs, kind words and support! I had a few requests to make a taglist so I’ve done it at the bottom - let me know if you’d like to be added! (and I hope I haven’t forgotten anyone) so - on with the show!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing

pt.1 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

You startle when your phone vibrates on the coffee table, the sudden and abrupt noise of it quick to drag your attention away from the true crime documentary playing across your TV screen. You eye it from your spot on the couch, so far, yet only a mere reach away if you could be bothered to stretch the distance. Your eyes fall back to the TV, happy to just ignore it and address it when you eventually have to move from the cocoon of blankets and pillows you’ve surrounded yourself with, but when the reminder alert sounds two minutes after receiving it, a small voice in the back of your head pipes up, saying it could be something important and you sigh tiredly.

The effort to move pulls a low groan from you and you stretch out, snatching the device from the table and back into the warmth before you could tumble onto the floor and really have something to grumble about.

Hey Benny’s mystery girl, how’s your night going?

The text sends flutters through your stomach, your hands immediately clamming up with a brief wave of nerves. This was the guy that Benny was setting you up with – an apparent very close friend and someone who clearly meant a lot to him. Why did you feel so much pressure to make a good impression?

Blankets, cushions and crime show now forgotten, you straighten up and let your fingers hover over the keypad in contemplation.

Do you play it cool? Act like you have a brimming social life, full of fun and endless options, and are not currently sat at home on a Friday night in your pyjamas watching Netflix, eating an excessive amount of snacks? No. No, you shouldn’t put a false image out there. Honesty is the best policy.

Hey yourself mystery fish. It’s a nice and relaxed night on my end, how about yours?

You leave it at that, briefly wondering if you should quickly chuck your phone on airplane mode, delete the message before it could go through and start again.

Did it sound boring? Is that the kind of image you were throwing out there? Maybe you should’ve acted like you were at least doing something productive. But then… what if Benny was there to call you out on your bullshit, knowing you literally have nothing better to do? He’d gladly do it, too.

You roll your eyes at yourself, wondering why you even cared what this mystery man thought about you and your weekend rituals when you had literally never even met. You were who you were, and that was that. If he didn’t like it, then he could take his handsome face and pretty brown eyes elsewhere.

I’m jealous. Stuck out with the guys and all I can think about is sleeping.

Scratch that. Maybe he was a man after your own heart, after all. A picture of a tray of tequila shots and lemons wedges comes through, another text quickly following which had you giggling quietly to yourself –

I’m too old for this shit.

You grin at your screen, opening your camera and snapping a quick picture of your blanket covered legs, snack covered coffee table and bright TV screen before sending it with a little smirking emoji. You’re not disappointed when he replies almost immediately.

Now I’m really jealous – are those Doritos?

Nacho cheese!

The one and only acceptable flavour. Is that Forensic Files? I binged the shit out of that the other day!

OMG it’s so good!

Surprisingly, your eyes didn’t feel as heavy as you thought they would when your alarm drags you from sleep the next morning. You could even say you were looking forward to waking up, which was not how your Saturday mornings usually played out.

Immediately you reach over for your phone and unlock it, smiling like an idiot at the Home safe :) text waiting for you. You chew your lip as you scroll through the many bubbles of conversation, stomach twisting in delight as you re-read through the topics you managed to bounce through in the few hours of texting before you had to call it quits at 2:14am and send a final – Goodnight Frankie x

You had paced your apartment after that, ringing your hands together anxiously and eyeing the clock as the seconds ticked past, scowling at your reflection in the mirror as you took your worries out on your teeth, scrubbing them much harder than necessary. Was a kiss too much? Is it too early for that kind of thing? You had only literally just started talking. Should you quickly text and say it was an accident? It’s not like you can say you sent it to the wrong person – the message had his fucking name in it.

The sound you made when you got a – Sweet dreams mystery girl x – in return wasn’t even remotely human and the words swirled around your head long after you fell asleep.

The reservations you had originally developed on being set up, yet again, quickly dissipated the longer you and Frankie exchanged messages. There had been no awkward block of nothing between texts, no dragging up mediocre subjects to keep the conversation rolling… it had just flowed so effortlessly, so naturally – something which had never happened before with Benny’s previous candidates. The only other candidate that you had managed to have a comfortable conversation with was Will, and that was only after you had both agreed that there was no attraction between the two of you.

Over text, Frankie seemed funny – quick witted and sarcastic – and often had you snorting into your drink over a comment or joke made at his own or his friends’ expenses. No, you weren’t even remotely hesitant about this anymore. If anything, your evening of conversation just made you that much more eager to meet him.

It’s much later in the day when you finally message him, having kept the temptation to message him at bay while you tidied up, keeping it short and sweet with a, How’s the head? You chew your lip, eyes flicking over the message with thoughtful eyes before quickly tagging a little kiss on the end and pressing send. Not even two minutes later, your phone goes off on the coffee table and the clammy hands return tenfold when you read over the message a good fifteen times.

Can I call?

Shit. Shit. He wants to call? And like… talk? With voices? What if you stutter? Choke? Oh god, your throat’s dry. It’s dry – how can you talk with a dry throat? You can’t. Fuck. Fuck. Drink – you need a drink –

You quickly run to the kitchen, filling a glass of water and swallowing it down as quickly as you could, not at all caring that it half spills down your chin and onto your jumper. You gasp for air when you finish, slamming the glass down and catching the drips of water from your chin with the back of your hand. You slide across your floor as you run back out to your couch and grab your phone, typing a quick reply.

Yeah sure.

Too casual. Was that too casual? Should you have added a kiss? Shit – it’s already sent. It’s fine. It’s fine. He asked a short question, and he got a short answer. It makes sense. It’s fine. You yelp when your phone starts to vibrate in your hand, his contact name flashing across the screen.

Oh God.

He’s calling. He’s somewhere out there, phone to his ear, waiting for you to answer and you’re what – standing in your lounge and looking at your phone, watching it ring, like an idiot? What are you doing?

You inhale deeply, clearing your throat a little before swiping the green icon.

“Hi,”

Oh God, what was that? What was that tone?

“Hey. Sorry – looking at my phone screen and trying to reply was making my eyes feel like they’re exploding.”

His voice is deep, hoarse from his night of drinking, and overwhelmingly pleasant to listen to. It brings a flush of warmth across your cheeks, an electric tingle across your skin.

You laugh softly, “It’s alright. Tequila wasn’t a good idea, then?”

He grunts quietly and your stomach tightens, throat suddenly dry again at the suggestive sound.

“It never is.” He groans, melting into a long yawn and you start to feel a little guilty. Did your text wake him up?

“I’m sorry, I should let you sleep –”

“No! No, it’s fine. I uh – I really want to talk to you… if you’re not busy.” He adds onto the end, almost nervously.

“I’m not busy,” you reassure quietly, smiling shyly down at your lap. “I’m all yours.”

He chuckles lowly, and the sound settles deep in your belly, “Good.”

You don’t understand how conversation could just be so... easy with someone you’ve never met. For a brief moment, you worry you might be talking too much, maybe boring him, but when he keeps asking questions, encourages you to continue, you think that maybe he doesn’t mind, maybe he actually is just interested in what you’re saying.

When dinner comes around, you’re in a fit of giggles as you prepare your food, listening to pots and pans bang and clash on the other end as Frankie prepares his own meal. You cook together, eat together, and then settle in front of Netflix together, debating back and forth on what to watch. The evening melts into night, one movie turns into two, and eventually conversation dies down.

Sometime in the night, you roll over, briefly waking to fix and fluff the pillow under your head when a sound makes you pause. Your head jerks up and you look around, finding yourself sprawled across the couch, and a blanket twisted around your legs.

Glancing over to your phone to check the time, you touch the screen and blink in surprise when you see your phone call is still connected with Frankie, who’s quiet on the other end. You move to press the red button but freeze when a soft snore sounds from the device, and a warm flood of affection grows in your heart and spreads throughout your chest.

He’s asleep.

You listen a moment longer, smiling tenderly when more quiet snores reach your ears. Instead of hanging up, you bring the phone closer, tucking it just beside your pillow before laying your head back down and closing your eyes, letting the quiet breathing soothe you back to sleep.

If the strong butterflies turning your stomach were anything to go by, you were in serious trouble.

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh @peterhollandkait @sara-alonso @starlightsearches @bookishofalder @empress-palpat1ne @shadowolf993 @rosiefridayrogersunday @canyonmirrors @eoz-stuff @blackonemasie @layniapetrovnaaa

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #no benny in this chap #but he's coming

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imagineyouandharry · 3 years

Text

Gypsophila (H.S)

Summary: Prince Harry has been under great pressure to find a wife, and he finds his Queen in a way far more unconventional than he could’ve imagined.

Words: 5,730

Warnings: It’s a bit strange I guess? Idk lol.

A/N: Someone requested a Prince!Harry au forever ago, and then I didn’t really have an opportunity to write for a while, and then this idea sprung up on me and I’ve been lost in this little au for the past few days. It’s like a little twisted fairytale, taking inspiration from Snow White and Sleeping Beauty mostly. Part two is already a work in progress. If people are interested I’ll even put out a little sort of world building lore post with a map of the kingdom etc (I’ve been in DEEP). This part is a bit choppy and barely edited because I was just so eager to write it and get something out, but I would really appreciate any constructive criticism and editing notes! TYSM!! Long story short, enjoy!!!

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Harry Edward Styles did not believe in true love, in fact, he thought it was the most ridiculous idea ever. Harry’s certain he’s laid eyes upon every eligible young lady, from his kingdom and the ones surrounding, and he hadn’t felt a single thing when looking at any of them. He prayed every night that he would find his love the next day, and finally be able to put his parents out of their misery and ascend to the throne. At the age of 27, Harry’s the oldest person in his family to not be married, no one every waited this long in the royal family. He would’ve had an arranged marriage at 21, though when his parents suggested that he ran away on a sailing ship for two months. One thing was clear to him: though he may not have experienced love yet, he wasn’t going to ruin his chances at true by being forced into a loveless marriage. It wasn’t only Harry’s parents, but the entire kingdom that woke each day hoping to hear that their Prince had found his Queen. They referred to Harry as the Good Prince, his subjects adored him, and lived for his acts of charity and selflessness, and they only hoped he would find a Queen that would treat them the same.

Harry’s outlook on love changed however, after his most recent hunting trip. Sundays are for family and hunting, that’s what Harry was always told. No day was for Harry, he’d come to learn that. Living under a microscope meant for very little alone time, and almost no guilt-free alone time. He and his hunting party rode across the fields and out to the dense forest surrounding the kingdom, and over the two hour journey Harry found himself agitated with the topics of conversation going on around him. He wanted a break, tired of everyone only ever speaking about royal duties or politics. Harry had discovered a fresh water lake if he went off the trail, and when he realised they were edging closer to his favourite place he decided to excuse himself with the excuse of needing to fill his canteen.

The natural spring was a hidden treasure indeed. Harry’s entire kingdom was cut off from the rest of the world due to the thick forestland surrounding it. There was only one trail in, and one trail out, and even then only experienced riders were able to make the journey. The end of the trail, in the deep of the forest, was also often lined with thieves and outcasts making it not the safest journey. This spring wasn’t necessarily hard to find, however thick trees that lined the main trail hid the spring, the gorgeous wild flowers, and clearing of soft grass either side. Harry tied his horse to his usual tree, softly parting the bushes careful to not cause any permanent damage, and stepped his way through. His kingdom was full of hidden treasures like this, tucked away in places only to be found by those adventurous enough.

The sound of the running water was most prominent, however the closer he walked to the spring, the more he could hear a faint, delicate singing voice. Harry couldn’t recognise the song, but it was one he’d never forget now. It felt as though his heart dropped in his stomach, and he had to lightly scratch his arm on a branch to double check he hasn’t died and was hearing an angel of heaven sing to him. He walked closer, with quiet footsteps so not to disturb the singing. He knelt down to the edge of the spring and began to fill his canteen, looking around his eyes eventually focused on the source of his siren, standing in the clearing over the other side of the spring as she picked a bouquet of dainty flowers. Lavender, daisies, bellflowers, poppies. Her body was dressed in sage green, the simple dress showed she definitely was not from a wealthy family, but it was simple and beautiful in its own way. Perhaps she sewed it herself, it did look as if it were made for her. He could see her hair shine from here, and the features of her side profile were striking him even from a distance. She didn’t look real. The strange girl across the spring looked ethereal, like her beauty was too surreal for this planet. Had he hit his head? Was he seeing a forest fairy? He hadn’t even realised the staggering increase in his heart rate as he watched the girl, and listened.

He lost track of how long he had been watching her for, snapped out of his daydream when he heard a “Your Royal Highness! We must be getting on!” Harry heard shouting at him from a distance, most likely back where he had tied his horse. The girl had heard the faint noise and her eyes shot in Harry’s direction. His cheeks flushed with heat as their eyes met only for a brief second, before she ran away. The eye contact brought a slight curve to his lips, although she was leaving, at least he got another good look at her.

“Wait!” He called as he stood up, his hand and canteen dripping wet. His eyes softened as she simply left, looking back briefly in her stride, but he’d blown it. “God fucking damn it.” He cursed under his breath as he began to trudge back to his horse, his feet weighing heavy on the ground.

That was the most he’d ever felt, looking at the stranger across the lake singing as if it were for him, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d just lost his future Queen. Half of him wanted to wade through the water and run after her, but Harry wasn’t a often disobedient Prince, when one of his parents or advisors told him to jump, his usual response would be “how high?” It’s ironic how for someone who’s whole life depends on finding his future Queen is given so little time to actually explore a social life, or love life himself. He was always set up with suitors who his parents found best. In the rare times he’s able to sneak away he’d gotten around, and most definitely wasn’t a virgin, but he’d never found a girl who had made him feel the way he wanted to feel about his future queen. He only wanted to please his family, and his realm, but this was the one thing where he refused to compromise.

Y/N was as far away from a future queen as it could come, or at least that’s what her step-mother wanted everyone to think. The entire town hoped to marry their daughters off to the elusive Good Prince Harry, however her step-mother only wanted her biological daughters to have that chance. When Y/N’s father passed away her step-mother sent her out to live as a recluse in a tiny cottage in the woods, she had always feared that her beauty would distract future husbands away from her actual daughters, and didn’t want to ruin their chance of being married. Each Sunday she drops Y/N off the supplies she needs, but that was the only human contact she was given. It wasn’t too bad, she managed to keep herself busy with sewing, baking, or whatever other art or craft she could think of and had the materials for. It was lonely though, and she was ultimately alone.

Well, if you don’t count forest fairies. Y/N hated being outcast into the forest, and spent most of her early months in the cottage crying to whatever wild animal she could find that day that would stick around long enough. Eventually, these wild animals started bringing their fairy friends along with them. They would spend their days with Y/N tending to fruit and vegetable gardens, watering plants, having picnics, and making daisy chains. Her life was simple, and although not one she asked, it was one she was growing fond of. Male company was something she could only imagine and long for, or read about in story books. There were dozens of fairies living in the forest, but she’d become particularly close to a group of some of the female fairies.

Each Sunday before her step mother visits, Y/N will pick her step mother a bouquet of flowers in attempt to win her over, in hopes maybe one day her sweetness will earn her way back into town. Y/N had total obliviousness towards her step mother’s plan, and towards what was going on in the city. This year, any woman over the age of 21 was to present herself to the Prince. Y/N’s 21st birthday fell on the day she was scheduled to be presented to the Prince. The letter had been delivered shortly before she was sent away to the forest, Y/N never laid her eyes upon it though. The letter outlined the royal guard would be coming to collect anyone who failed to present themselves on the day, and to Y/N’s step mother that meant the only option was to make it so Y/N never turned 21, or made it to her birthday for that matter.

Seeing the Prince most definitely did spook Y/N during that day in the field, if her step mother ever found out she’d had contact with a male there was no chance she’d ever be allowed to move back home. She did all she could think to do. She ran. She ran so fast that the petals of the flowers she had picked were ruined in her haste, quickly shutting herself inside the cottage to gather herself before her routine afternoon visit from her step mother. Sure she knew of men to be dangerous and terrible, but she feared her step-mother’s wrath more than anything any man could put her through.

Like any other Sunday, she scrubbed the house and dressed herself in whatever new garment she had stitched herself this week. The fairies had been busy this week and she’d had a great deal of time to herself, embroidering colourful flowers into the soft white linen of the new dress she had made. Her step-mother would bring her fabric and thread to sew dresses for her step sisters. It was something to be proud of, but most likely would be over looked. Little was said upon her step-mother’s arrival, but her character seemed off. Her step-mother’s eyes darted around, checking windows as she insisted on making the two of them tea. Y/N sat down at the small dining table, recounting tales of her week, ensuring to leave out anything about fairies or a boy. She watched a small bunny outside the window, forgetting to speak as awe overwhelmed her whilst she watched its tiny nose twitch. Her daydream came to an end when the sound of the ceramic mug hit the hard wood of the coffee table. “Drink while it’s warm, my love.” Her step-mother told her, sitting down in the seat at the head of the table beside Y/N. It wasn’t long after that that Y/N hit the floor, and her step-mother was shrouding herself in a hooded coat and sneaking out of the tiny cabin.

Elsie, a fairy most close to Y/N, who specialises in healing, came to the conclusion that she was only out for about six hours before the fairies found her. They did all they could over the following weeks to bring her back to life, trying as many possible rituals, potions, and spells to give life to her body once more. Nothing was of use though, and instead they decided to preserve her in a glass case in the clearing amongst the wildflowers. She had professed to them that the clearing by the spring had been her favourite place, so they saw this fit. Preserving her in the glass case was simply because the idea of her beauty decaying away made any of the fairies shriek. Fairies never communicated with humans, however Y/N was different. Elsie had always theorised that Y/N had magic in her blood. Amongst the many spells and rituals they tried to bring Y/N back, they threw in a spell that would hopefully bring her back with true love’s kiss. It was like a safety net, or a ‘what if?’ But they eventually tired and wore out, preserving her was well enough for now. They kept her dressed in the new dress she had crafted for herself, it was so beautiful after all. They had placed tiny baby’s breath flowers throughout her hair, and made sure everything was perfect. They even went as far to adorn her in delicate gold jewellery, with beautiful crystals of all colours. Her body rested upon a large rectangular slab of rose quartz.

****

Harry was dreading sitting in the throne room, while all the eligible females from the town were presented to him like livestock. It made him sick, and left a terrible taste in his mouth. All he could think of was the girl from the clearing. Is she a sign? Is he his ticket out of here? Was seeing her fate? Questions like that simmered over his mind and kept him awake at night, he had been sleeping little and finding it hard to focus on his duties. His best friend Niall was he closest confidant, the only one he had told about the beautiful girl in the clearing that day. Niall cared more for Harry than anyone, really. He didn’t just care about his fame or power or wealth, Harry was his best friend and he hated seeing his best mate so down about his love life and the pressure to marry a woman he doesn’t love. He made it his mission to find the woman, and his detective work lead him down a path he didn’t expect at all. First he went to the clearing where Harry filled his water in the spring, that was where he first noticed something over the other side of the spring that he couldn’t quite make out. He followed the spring and found an area narrow enough to cross, making his way to the structure he’d seen earlier. He didn’t know what to make of this discover, a dead girl in a glass coffin. ‘Forever at rest, only to be woken by true love’s kiss’ read an inscription on a gold plaque. He really didn’t know what to make of this. He didn’t know what to tell Harry.

Sweat lingered Niall’s brow as he made his way back to the castle to find Harry, to tell him of his discovery. “Look… I just need you to come with me and tell me what you think when we’re there.” Niall tells him, his voice somewhat breathless. Niall himself was still in disbelief, shock, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “I just- I don’t know what to tell you. You need to see it for yourself.” He adds.

Harry nods. “I’ll come immediately.” Harry tells him, his trust for Niall outweighing anything else going on in his head. Together they rode to the forest, crossed the narrow part of the spring, and towards where Niall had discovered Y/N.

“Is this the girl you were talking about?” Niall asks, however when he looks from the girl to Harry, he knows the answer. Harry couldn’t help but fall to his knees, pressing his palms against the glass as he looked inside. He noticed how long her eyelashes looked, and the freckles on her nose. His nose was almost touching the glass as he leant here on his knees at the side of her, taking her in up close.

“What happened to you?” He whispers, his eyebrows knitting together. Niall gives him a moment before he decides to mention the plaque at the foot of the structure.

“It uh, says something weird about being awoken by true love’s kiss. I don’t know if it’s true, and it’s revolting to think you would kiss a dead body for nothing, but someone has put her here. Someone made this. My grandmother in her old age would mutter stories about forest fairies and their magic… It just makes you wonder, you know?” He ponders, his eyes wandering away. It felt silly to bring up magic, it was something very commonly dismissed.

“Help me get this off.” Harry said as he brought himself from the ground, the soft grass had left green stains on his tan riding pants. He pushed the sleeves of his white linen button down up past his elbows, and the two men carefully lift the heavy glass case up off of the rose quartz Y/N had been resting on. It wasn’t easy, and the glass at the bottom dug into Harry’s fingers before they set the glass piece of the structure down on to the grass. “Alright. Here we go.” Harry said, in attempt to psych himself up for kissing a dead girl. She didn’t look dead though, just sleeping, you could only tell she was dead due to the missing rising and fall in her chest with her breath. “I might start walking back to the horses, give you some privacy.” Niall said, giving him a slight smile. He also didn’t really want to witness someone kiss a dead person, if she didn’t end up waking up.

“Good luck. Take your time.” He adds, part of him had no doubt it was going to work though. The stories his grandmother would tell him of the forest fairies were something he’d always held on to, those stories were amongst his most treasured memories. He’d always had some hope.

Harry waited until he could no longer hear Niall’s footsteps before he leant down close to Y/N, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. He took a moment, if this never worked it was going to be the last time he’d ever see her. He couldn’t fathom coming back to this spot if this didn’t work. His heart began to ache at the thought, it made his chest feel tight, and gave him the urge to rub at the spot.

“I really hope you’re who I think you are.” He whispers as he looks down at her. “This might seem like absolute madness. I don’t even know your name, but if you wake up for me, I swear to you I will be yours forever.” He began, to Harry this almost did feel like a ritual, it felt special, and the words he was speaking were amongst the most genuine he’d ever given life to. “I promise, I will protect you. I will provide for you. I will love you. I will never, ever harm you. I will love you until my very last breath, I just need you to do this one thing for me.” His voice was barely a whisper now, and breaking as hot tears welled in his eyes. He very carefully leant down, pressing his warm, puffy lips against her cold, smooth ones. He didn’t know how long to wait, but it didn’t feel wrong. It was a sweet, tender kiss. His eyes closed, and he felt at peace. It felt more than at peace. The long grass, wildflowers, and tree branches that surrounded them began to stir with wind, petals floating up into the gusts that took them. This girl had a tendency to make him feel like he’s dead and in heaven. Her lips slowly began to warm, and skin began to glow with heat. It felt like they were floating, as if the universe was made up of just the two of them. The flowers beneath him began to grow taller and more dense, and it began to feel like his heart was pulling towards hers. It felt like a tether had been formed, connecting their energy, he could feel as her heart began to pump blood again, and her energy radiate from her skin. It felt too surreal.

Slowly, Harry removed his lips to allow Y/N to breathe. He let a hand lay gently resting on her cheek as he watched her gasp for her first new breath, eyes shooting open as she looked up at him. It wasn’t shock she was met with when her eyes met Harry’s, but peace. The luminous green eyes that were gazing down upon her were like lighthouses, guiding her towards safety. So many questions began to race her mind as she came to reality, unable to decide which one to ask first. As if based on intuition, Harry decided to speak. “I uh- I’m not too sure what happened to you but my friend found you here today and brought me to you. I believe I saw you a few weeks ago, in the same spot. I’m not sure how long you’ve been out here, but there was this little plaque at the end of this thing here, that said something about a kiss to wake you up… I’m sorry for kissing you without your consent, but I couldn’t risk not taking this chance.” He didn’t mean to ramble or to overwhelm her with his spiel, but he was overwhelmed himself with everything that had just gone on. True love’s kiss. His queen. His true love. The other half of his soul, in human form. Y/N’s lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. She closed them once more as she sat up and looked around, swinging her legs off the side of the marble before looking back up to Harry. Her movement had disconnected his hand from her face, and they both longed for each other’s touch once more already. Her eyes began to well with tears as she began to think about how she got here, her last memories.

“I can only assume how overwhelming this must all be for you… We can stay here as long as you need, it’s just us. When you feel ready for it, I can take you back to my home and we can get you showered and fed. I don’t mean you any harm.” Harry doesn’t even need to add that last sentence though, because she can feel it. She can feel his love for her, she could almost hear it if she listened closely enough, as if his heart was now beating a song for her.

Harry stood back, as if to give the doe eyed girl some space. She looked at him as if he was the most precious treasure on Earth, he’d never felt so overwhelmed with love. This was followed by her delicate hands reaching out, taking ahold of his as she brought herself to stand in front of him. “Is it alright if you hold me for a second?” She asked softly, needing time to process things.

It had been so long since she had been touched affectionately, she couldn’t really remember it. Her father was never affectionate, nor her step mother or step sisters or anyone else she’d met. She felt comfortable with the stranger in front of her though, and didn’t have the energy to resist the magnet like force pulling her towards him.

“Of course.” He responds, his voice soft as he wraps his arms gently around her frame, pulling her into his warm figure. Harry was like the perfect, giant teddy bear… but he wasn’t really that soft. Pressed against him she could feel how chiseled his features are. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she relaxed into him, cheek against the skin of his chest kindly revealed by the first few buttons of his shirt being undone. “What’s your name?” He asks, tangling his fingers in her hair to lightly rub his fingertips against the tender skin at the back of her neck.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Yours?” She asks, looking up to the tall, broad man.

“Harry.” He decides on leaving out his royal title or last name.

“Just Harry?” She asks, her eyebrows raising.

“For now. We have plenty of time to talk about me later.” He notes, removing the same rogue strand of hair as before from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. It was almost as if her hair had a life of its own, breathing, like the other flora growing in the forest. He had noticed the baby’s breath in her hair, though her hair moved, they remained in the same places, as if growing out of their place on the strand of hair. “What do you last remember?” He asks, needing to know if whatever put her in eternal sleep had been by accident, or as an act of malice. She looks back away from his face, resting her cheek once more against his chest.

“My step-mother, Styephania came over, she made me tea. That’s all I can really remember.” She said, unable to stop the disappointed sigh from escaping her lips. Maybe she’d had a freak health accident, like a stroke. Just because she’d been mistreated by her step mother her whole life, didn’t mean she was capable of murder. She knew her step mother didn’t put her out here though, this was the work of fairies. They were looking on, hiding in the bushes as they stood witness to young love blossom in front of them, not wanting to disturb the two of them. “I look crazy, and it sounds crazier saying this, but I’m certain the forest fairies are responsible for looking after me and putting me here. The day she came over was the day I think you saw me here, and I’m not sure how I’m meant to feel but I don’t feel like I’ve been a dead body since then. I feel like no time has passed at all.” Harry avidly listened to her speak, her voice like caramel, seeping in his ears and warming his whole body. Harry wasn’t phased by her mentioning fairies, Niall had suspecting this being their work earlier. It was the only explanation Harry could think of. He couldn’t understand why her step mother would leave her here, why she wouldn’t find her help.

He didn’t want to worry his sweet girl now, he wanted to make sure she felt alright, safe, and cared for. His grip on her wasn’t too tight, but firm in a comforting way. “The plaque… It mentioned how you’d only be woken by true love’s kiss.” He figured the longer he waited to tell her the stranger it would be. His cheeks were red, as if embarrassed or ashamed to tell her about the plaque, how strange it all was. Her eyes met his, and the connection gave him whiplash. He couldn’t peel his eyes away, getting lost in the little pools. He wanted to know everything about her, what she liked, disliked, what she ate for breakfast, her favourite songs, flowers, secrets. Everything.

“I don’t know if I know what love feels like. The only men I’ve spoken to are all twice my age. I wasn’t really allowed to see boys. You’re definitely much, much more beautiful than I would’ve imagined a man to be, and I’m certain that my heart is literally beating for you now, since you woke me.” She tells him, the descriptions of heroes in stories she would read, or how she would imagine the older men to look when they were younger, were incomparable to Harry. The compliment made his cheeks flush. With each beat of her heart, it was as if it was pulling her closer to Harry, calling out for him, begging for him to love on her and soothe the ache in her chest.

“How has God made something so sweet?” He mumbles, he hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud at first. “You’re breath taking. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, and trust me when I say I’ve seen a lot of them. Even from far away, the first time I saw you… You make me nervous. You make my heart race, and my palms sweat, and I get butterflies in my stomach and nervous when I think about saying the wrong thing or not having you like me. It’s as if you’ve been carved by God himself, like he was showing off when he made you so beautiful. I wish I’d met you sooner.” Those last words burn his throat, how easier the last few years would have been if he had just been able to find her sooner.

*****

Harry sent Niall back to the castle first, having him instruct everyone to clear out the path that the Prince and his soon to be queen would take to his suite, he didn’t want to spook her with people around. The guards had to stay though, non-negotiable. He also had Niall ensure the doctor was on standby, just to check on Y/N and stay in the castle over the upcoming weeks in case anything else happened. Security was going to be increased, and tightened, and a warrant put out for her step mother.

The two hour horseback ride to the castle would give them well enough time to get to know each other, Harry and Niall had also switched horses, Niall’s being the slower of the two. “I don’t want to startle you when we get there. I also don’t know how to really tell you this. I’m in the royal family, so the guards and whatnot are something to just be ignored. They’re for your protection. I don’t know if you heard much of what I was telling Niall earlier, but you’re going to be very safe here, and we’ll find out what happened. I’ll look after you, I promise.” His eyes are ahead as he speaks, looking over the vast green fields ahead of them once they eventually emerged from the forest.

“Still just Harry, to me.” She reassured, sensing his nerves about revealing this information to her. His shoulders relaxed at her reaction, and a smile formed on his lips when his mind began to wander into what their future may be like. His queen.

“Hey, one day that’ll be King Harry to you.” He joked, thankful that it was received with a laugh. Her laughter was almost as sweet as her songs, and for the rest of the journey he made it his mission to mine as many possible laughs out of her as he could, like little nuggets of treasure. After making their way through the fields that lined the forest, they went down a long road that served as a divide between two of the castle’s towns, and at the end of that road just past a small valley of mountains was a sight far more glorious than Y/N had imagined. Her village was a small village that contained mostly candlemakers and dressmakers, and it sat further to the east, people only ever going out there to purchase fine candles and clothing. It was niche though, and not many could afford the fineries the master crafters in her village would create. Y/N hadn’t even really seen a home larger than a cottage, Harry’s castle looked large enough as if it could contain its own little world, a complete wilderness of towers surrounded by fine gardens, protected by a large moat with a standalone drawbridge. Harry didn’t even need to announce himself, the drawbridge was already in the process of being lowered for him.

“I had Niall clear our path, I don’t want to overwhelm you. I’ll introduce you to everyone when you’re ready.” Harry reassures her, she hadn’t even thought of anyone else though, too in awe of the sights around her. Flowers she’d never seen before laced these gardens, with fine marble sculptures and fountains protruding from them.

“I can’t believe this is your home.” Y/N whispers, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Your home too, if you’d like.” Harry replies, though his words immediately shrouded him with nerves about rushing Y/N into anything. It was stupid, they were each other’s true love’s, but it felt wrong being strangers, so Harry tried his best to conceal things. He’d never been in a conventional relationship before, never mind whatever this arrangement is or was going to be. He just knew he wasn’t meant to rush things, so he tried to refrain from expressing his feelings as best as he could. Her arms around his waist tightened, Y/N needing to feel as close to Harry as possible. He held the reins in one hand, the other arm resting over hers around his stomach, holding on to her arm to make sure she couldn’t let go.

“I’d like that.” Y/N reassures, gently rubbing his side to soothe him. Harry was too caught up in his own feelings to pay attention to how calm Y/N was. She could feel his anxiety though, and continued to try to soothe him as best she could. Y/N knew very little about Harry so far, but what she did know was that he was kind, caring, and had a lot of worries. She’d never been a worrisome person, and if anything would even refer to herself as naive, it was something she’d always been almost ashamed of but in this moment felt like maybe she’d been made to be by Harry’s side. Y/N liked the idea of spending her days being Harry’s rock, a voice of reason. She’d rather a man like this than one who had no emotions, that was for sure. It could’ve been whatever was now eternally bonding them, but she swears she was feeling his emotions, able to see his aura if she really studied hard enough. She sunk into him some more, her arms around his waist, cheek resting against his back. Harry made sure to take it extra slow, giving his love enough time to appreciate the flowers. She seemed to like flowers, and his mother took pride in this being the most beautiful garden amongst all of the kingdoms. He couldn’t wait to show her all the fineries that came with his life.

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