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soft4gguk · 3 years

Text

to build a home | chapter six

pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

genre: strangers to lovers. angst. loads of plot. fluff. smut.

word count: 10.7k (lol)

warnings: swearing. straddling. dry humping. fingering. handjob. jungkook big cock. cum – loads of cum. moment of silence bc i didn't write angst once in the warnings.

author’s note: well, surprise! what did I tell y’all about the countryside huh. It does things to me. I love this chapter. I don’t want to give much away but… it’s so soft. and then no it’s not!!! it’s hella hard 🤠. I’m sending a million kisses your way. thank u for all the love always – it means the world!!!! xxxx <3

p.s. happy three weeks of tbah. thank u for being here.

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Texts in bold + italic resemble a recollection of past events.

Chapter Six

In all your years as designated romantic of your generation you’ve come to pick up on patterns that best describe the feeling of falling in love. Now, you’ve grown close. You’ve fallen, never quite landing in love but you’ve fallen enough to have lived through a couple of said patterns yourself.

Free-falling, now… that’s a different thing.

Songs and poems – black and white movies. They all do a beautiful job at portraying something you always found a bit silly, as much of a romantic as you are. They fixate on this idea that the world seems rosier when you’re falling in love – that you see things in a different light. Take in the world in a different way. That one day you feel love and the next you wake up and your commute to work is brighter; friendly faces and fresh flowers everywhere. They make us believe that love is the door that opens our eyes to the wonders of the world. And as unbelievable as it seems… you can’t deny it.

You see it.

You feel it.

You lay in the grass after a Sunday stroll with Lucy that ended up turning into a picnic. She’s singing along to some love song, swaying her head from side to side as she hums – something about the world ending and no other way that I can spend it. You’re about to full on judge her for playing Justin Bieber but an absentminded smile tugs at her lips and the sight alone is sweet – not to mention the fact that you know exactly which smile put that one on her face.

You smile, too.

You’re not too far off. You look up at the sky again. So far, you’ve made up five shapes in the sea of endless clouds above you. The very abstract outline of a strawberry. A dove – yeah, it’s missing a wing but it’s a dove alright. Two blurry faces leaning against one another, one a bit taller than the other. A croissant. And last but not least, an angel. It’s still up there – face formed by faint specks of white cloud, a perfect halo on top and big wings at his sides.

You try to look for your strawberry, only the shape now resembles a liver more than anything. You wince – it’s love.

You feel it in every song, in the cup of coffee you had this morning. In the yellow dress you’re wearing – the same one you wore the first day you met him. You smile, having had no idea of just what you were getting yourself into back then. Remembering just how much of a mistake it all felt like when you sat there, opposite him, as he teared apart at your every ounce of confidence. He was right – mistakes can be…

“What’s all the grinning for?” Lucy’s voice breaks you out of your pensive state.

The best thing to ever happen to you.

“Him.” you reply, simply. “You?” you roll over to your side to face her, head resting against your arm.

“My him.” She giggles. “What exactly, though? Still digesting yesterday?”

You shake your head. “No. Or yes. I don’t know. Maybe…”

“It’s good, ___. I think what he did was very brave.” She says.

You nod your head, that soft smile back where he left it. “Me too. I don’t think I’m over thinking it. It’s just that…”

“You can’t stop thinking about it.” Her grin is mischievous, knowing.

You roll back, the grass feels cooling against your arms. “Yeah,” you sigh, a bit more dreamily than intended.

The silence is comfortable and you welcome it as you both lean against the tall book shelf in your impromptu seating position on the floor. You stretch your legs in front of you, fumbling a bit with the rings on your fingers and he taps his feet repeatedly in a slow motion – eyes fixated on them.

“So… good mistake or bad mistake?” You say, breaking the ice that feels everything but cold.

Jungkook smiles to himself. No trace of a mistake roaming around in his mind. Just you and your lips against his.

“Good. Just good.”

“Good.” You bite your lip, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. “What now?”

Jungkook waits for the nerves to hit – the regret. But it doesn’t come.

“I guess… I mean, fuck. There are so many things that I still have to… heal from, or whatever my therapist says. I don’t- I would never want to lay that on you, though.”

You nod, taking his words in. A bit surprised at his sudden ability to communicate.

He grabs your hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “But… you. I don’t want to run from you anymore.”

You turn to him, giving him a tender smile. “I don’t want you to run from me either. We can take it slow… there’s no rush. I want to know you- really know you. At whatever pace you set.”

“I want to know you, too.” You shy at his words, gaze looking down at where your hands entwine. “We can… ease into it. I mean, I still have to get over the fact I’m five years your senior.”

You try with all your might but you break, snorting at his words, trying to keep your laughter at a library-friendly volume.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, voice serious but a grin forming at his lips, too.

“Sorry, sorry. That is- preposterous, sir.” You tease, “only add like… fifteen years to that and you could be my father.” You feign shock.

His hand comes up to your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he tries to control his own laughter. “Please don’t say that.”

You laugh. “Sorry, sorry.” He can feel you pouting against his palm. “Jungkook,”

“Yes?”

“I- I can’t wait. To know you, I mean.”

His fingers lace around yours once again, a soft, genuine smile when he says, “Neither can I.”

The aroma of fresh coffee fills the air and complemented with the bright sunlight coming through the big window it adds to the overall heavenly atmosphere the morning holds. It’s a Monday and you’ve never felt keener to get out of bed and kickstart the week.

And yes, your commute to work was brighter and filled with friendly faces. Fresh flowers, too. In fact, they sit on top of the kitchen counter – three pretty sunflowers, tall and proud. You always did think the sleek, white space was in need of some oomph – key word for: love. So, you took the liberty. Mrs. Chae held them as if they were a newborn baby, excitedly placing them in a vase with some fresh water.

In front of you, is your breakfast masterpiece – a bright smoothie bowl for Soori who has taken on a passion for, well, all sorts of fruits. You place the neatly cut wedges on top, adding some granola to it. And Cheerio’s. A bit of an odd combination, yes, but the kid loves her Cheerio’s. You cut the strawberries into a heart shape, just like Lucy taught you that one time you were helping her garnish a fruit tart. Everything is more interesting for Soori if it takes on a fun shape and you easily comply – testing your creativity to make life just that more fun for her.

Right on queue with your train of thought, you hear her distant baby babble that grows louder and louder the closer she gets to the kitchen. Your gaze snaps to the direction of the entrance, excited to see her.

Jungkook comes into view – body slightly bent over and waddling a bit before his own gaze comes up, eyes landing on yours as he gives you a warm smile. You return it, frowning slightly when you realize there’s no Soori in his arms, even though you can hear her. He giggles softly, looking down, a proud look to his face. You round the kitchen counter, hands coming to cover your mouth when you see her. Her tiny fists hold onto Jungkook’s middle and index fingers, her short little legs moving rapidly in-between jumps and steps. She’s wearing pink Carhartt overalls with a white baby tee underneath. The tiniest pair of Chuck Taylor’s you’ve ever seen on her speedy feet.

“Oh my Goodness! Look at you, Soo.” You fall to your knees and she shrieks once you come into eyesight, walking towards you excitedly with the help of her dad who still holds her by her tiny hands. Once she’s in your arms, he lets go. You hold her to you, wrapping her in a hug, kissing her chubby cheeks. “That was so good, princess. You did so good!” You coo and she giggles, open mouth returning your kisses – a sloppy slobber all over your face but you don’t care.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Jungkook says, looking down at the two of you, his heartbeat picking pace slightly at the sight. “Yesterday she stood all by herself for 3.7 seconds.”

“What? No way, Soo.” Your baby voice is on and she jumps in your arms. You pull her closer to you. “That’s amazing, bub. You’re going so fast. Too fast,” you pout, surprised by how much you’ve seen her grow in such a small amount of time.

Soori’s hands come to rest at either side of your face – Jungkook thinks about how much it resembles the way he holds her before he showers her with kisses. She’s starting to mimic everything he does and when she leans her face forward and leaves another set of open mouth kisses against your nose his chest flutters – a feeling he can’t quite explain. All he knows is that it feels so light. So right.

“Good morning,” he says finally as you get up from your kneeling position on the floor, Soori in your arms as you place her on the crook of your hip.

“Morning,” you return, a smile forming at your lips at the sight of his. You let yourself get lost in his face, because you can. He looks so ethereal in the mornings. You notice he’s not wearing his usual dress shirt and slacks, having opted for a much more casual look in blue jeans and a flowy blue shirt, the first three buttons tentatively open, exposing his tan skin. “Is it spirit day at the office?”

He scoffs at your teasing, playfully rolling his eyes. “No. Not going to the office today, actually. Well- technically I am. I have to go oversee some renovations at the hotel.”

“Oh…”

“It’s in a location by the river. My parents are actually there at the moment. Staycation and whatnot. So, I’m bringing Soori with. And you.”

Jungkook sees Mrs. Chae’s eyes widen at his words – specially the last ones. He walked right into that one though, he’ll admit that much. He clears his throat before he adds, “as in, you know- Soori. For Soori. If you don’t mind.”

You chuckle slightly, biting at your tongue. “Of course. Let’s fill her tummy and we can go.”

He nods, not missing the glint in your eyes and your playful smile before you turn around.

You’re wearing a pretty white dress, the fabric hugging your waist perfectly before flowing at the bottom. Just like Soori, you’re wearing a pair of white Converse. He walks himself right into that dreamy thought, too. Only this one he did purposely.

It’s going to be a long day.

And for the first time in a long time, he looks forward to it.

Jungkook and you divide the task of getting Soori strapped into her car seat – you keep her distracted by letting her fidget with your fingers and he works the harness around her chest and tummy, pulling on it until he’s sure she’s safely tucked in.

“Hey, you’re so good, baby.” He coos at her, pride swelling in his chest at her mellow behaviour. She smiles, holding at his finger and pulling him closer. She has a tight grip on yours too.

Jungkook smacks his lips against Soori’s cheeks, earning himself a giddy giggle from her. She scrunches her little nose when he kisses down her neck, tickling her. She tries to push him away, never once letting go of her hold on your fingers, bringing your hand to Jungkook’s face as her loud snickers fill the car. They’re contagious and soon enough, the three of you are laughing.

“Does Soori have tickles?” You ask her, free hand coming to poke at her sides as she jumps and screeches at the feeling.

“She’s so ticklish.” He says, coming up for air for about a second before he dives right back in, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck. She kicks and screams, full-on cackling now and you can tell that it’s not gonna be too long until she gets fed up. Her hand comes up to either side of Jungkook’s head and you tug at his hair slightly. “Hey, hey. That’s enough. She’s going to run out of smiles and then what do we do.”

Jungkook laughs, heart wrenching at your sweet voice that you reserve just for her – liking how you use it on him, too. “Never,” he says, landing one final kiss on top of her head before he straightens his body. You settle into the seat next to Soori and he frowns, saying, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean,” you return, confusion in your words.

He bites back a chuckle, a grin adorning his face. “Come sit at the front with me.” It’s more a statement than it is a question and he sees you hesitate, eyes zeroing down on Soori’s hand around your fingers and then back to him. “She’ll be fine, come on.”

You hesitate for yet another second before you’re exiting the backseat of his sleek car, making your way to the passenger’s seat. You both get in at the same time and you watch as he gets comfortable, starting the engine and maneuvering the steering wheel as his free hand flies behind your headrest, body twisting slightly as you exit the parking space. Soori whines in the backseat, something awfully close to Da before she breaks out in unintelligible babble. When he glances at her she’s looking at you, small face scrunched up in disappointment.

“Hey, you. We can share, okay? Let daddy have her for a minute?” Soori diverts her eyes, gaze already focused on whatever is going on outside the window, bringing her pacifier back to her mouth and suckling on it.

You giggle. “She’s growing at speed lighting. She’s full on trying to talk now. And walk!”

“I know. We already made a made a pact though – she’s not allowed to do either when I’m away at work.”

“I imagined she agreed to it right away?” You tease.

“Of course. She’s loyal like that.” He looks in the rear-view mirror, smiles when he sees her eyes on him. He turns to you, “how are you feeling?”

“Good. Very good.” You say, a bit sheepishly. “You?”

“Me too,” a lopsided grin forms on his lips and the sight has you weak at the knees.

“Did Taehyung pick up on it?”

He turns to you for a second, a look on his face that says what do you think. “Did Lucy pick up on it?”

“Touché,” you say, “is that… bad?”

“No. They might tease me a bit but they wouldn’t do anything to make me feel uncomfortable before I’m ready to talk about it. Taehyung and Jimin, though… they just have a sixth sense for that stuff. So, it’s hard to keep it a secret.”

“So, we’re a secret?”

He looks at you briefly, an apologetic look to his face. “Does that bother you?”

You smile, reaching for his hand that rests on his thigh. “No. I think it’s the smartest thing to do. At least until we… figure us out, I guess. I am your nanny after all.”

“Nope. You’re her nanny,” he says, motioning to Soori. “You two can talk business later.”

You laugh, playfully swatting his leg. Before you can move away, he’s locking your hands in his hold – intwining your fingers together. It’s all so overwhelmingly good. The lightness to his mood, the witty jokes, that relaxed expression taking over his face. His hand on yours – finally. You missed it, the feel of his skin. The butterflies it sends to your tummy, the warmth it radiates. You could give up on a steady heart rate any day if it meant experiencing the euphoric feeling of having him close.

“Jokes aside,” he starts, “I wouldn’t want her to… lose you.” His face falls, so evidently that you don’t miss it. You can feel it – the way his head is being swarmed by intrusive thoughts right now. Full of bad news. Uncertainty. Fear.

You squeeze his hand. “I know we have a long way to go of… figuring things out. But she’s important to me, too, and I wouldn’t jeopardize that either. I wouldn’t take that leap if I… if I wasn’t sure. About you. About wanting to try. And getting to know you.”

He only nods. His silence makes you feel uneasy, like maybe you pushed too far, said something that would put him in a compromising position. You know his walls are high and even though the full story is still unknown to you, the pieces you do have form a painful puzzle.

So, you don’t say anything – giving him enough space to process things in his own time. Understanding that trust is a tricky thing when broken. Like a mirror, it reflects on everything that stands its way – morphing our own truths, making us feel unbelieving, undeserving.

And as much as you want to pour all the love that brews inside of you onto him at once – to have him know he’s got you; you figure the best thing you can do is to not aid that reflection further by imposing your own fears onto it. Fear doesn’t cancel out fear but understanding does.

Understanding, you conclude, can sometimes be stronger than love.

Growing up, you were always in a constant state of praise. From your teachers, your parents – hell, even your friends. There was something so captivating to the people around you about how collected you were, how dedicated and applied. Back then, of course, your world was smaller and your priorities didn’t go as far as making sure you excelled in school, volunteered at your local church to put a smile on your mom’s face and be someone your small group of friends could rely on.

So, needless to say, self-control was easy. You used to believe promiscuity was simply a side effect of hormonal angst and not having enough to do. Thankfully, you were exempted. Not from the hormonal angst, no. In fact, sex was always something you felt drawn to in literature and art. But as for not having enough to do, that just wasn’t your case.

And even when a lot of these beliefs went away along with your naivety you still remained somewhat good at keeping desire cool, calm and collected.

But you’re only human.

And only so strong.

You feel like the universe is playing a silly little number on you now – making you pay for whatever twisted wave of superiority you rode as a teenager. It was probably induced by spending too much time volunteering at the church and cringing at the descriptive way in which your heart and road to heaven would be corrupted by having pre-marital sex, courtesy of the nun that taught your bible study group.

Your body shudders, cringing at the memory alone.

Your eyes divert to said silly little number – sporting that perfectly fashionable baby carrier of his, a sleeping Soori flushed to his chest, as he talks business. And you’re speaking business. Casually blurting out numbers that don’t make mathematical sense to you because how does money even work? Correction: how does money even work like that?

He walks alongside the architect as they review plans, numbers, paperwork, strategy – you name it, Jungkook seems to have the lead on everything. It takes you by surprise when he takes a hold of the pencil and tweaks at the paper plan, adding to the perfect drawing of what will be the new rest & relaxation space. In simpler words, a spa. With all the luxury amenities, in perfect tune with the whole essence of the hotel.

The hotel alone surprises you, not having expected the paradisical feel to it. It felt like a small oasis, only twenty minutes away from the city, surrounded by so much green and crisp, fresh air. You’d passed by The West End multiple times, the one in the city, that is. A tall, glass building that spewed modernity and money just by being in its close vicinity. This West End though, as luxurious and modern as it was, had a more relaxed feel to it.

Jungkook seems to be exceptionally involved with this one, that usual passion he carries about his business soaring just a tad higher. To you, it feels like this one in particular hits close to home and you wonder why. He gets visibly excited when the architect retrieves his iPad, showing him a colourful digital visual of what’s to be the final outcome. Soori fidgets slightly in the carrier and he puts a hand to her face, caressing gently in a soothing manner, making sure his voice goes back to its normal pitch. She’s full-on teething now and her discomfort is painful to watch, especially for Jungkook. So, when nap time came and she wanted nothing more than to be held by her father it came as a no-brainer to him – always taking advantage of whatever time he can have with her during the week.

And this right here is just why you think the universe is playing games with you. Torturous, evil games. Because no, that goody-two-shoes behaviour didn’t last a month in university. You, of course, not only matured and fell victim to the freshman fifteen but also navigated through your sexual awakening in a, needless to say, healthy manner.

But Jeon Jungkook is hormonal angst mixed with three out of the seven deadly sins and you have no desire to repent.

If the pull that draws you to him was only physical then you’d make do. Brave it like a good girl and impose that self-control that carried you through your innocence. But the tension that builds in your body for him happens to go slightly beyond just the physical.

It’s his mind, too. That big brain of his, oozing intellect left and right – how effortlessly it comes to him to lead, persuade and gain people’s trust. How everyone that works for him respects him for all the good reasons, as opposed to fear. How he puts his all in whatever it is he does, perfecting it until his interest wears off and then he moves on onto the next big thing – never ceasing his ability to learn and grasp new concepts. You think his mind is exceptional and that just makes him all the hotter.

His humour and light-hearted ways are one hell of a magnet as well. The witty banter and sharp comebacks, funny without ever being mean. The way no matter what his titles are, to his friends he will forever be the youngest one – their Ggukie. And how he lets them, basking on it, welcoming the love and letting himself be babied. You like the way he can’t help but get giddy when something really cool catches his eye – how even though he’s seen a lot, he never acts like he’s seen it all, letting himself still be surprised by the world around him.

And last but not least – how good of a dad he is. How out of all his titles and duties, that one seemed to be the one he carries with the most pride.

“So, what now, darling?” Your dad said.

You’d barely had enough time to remove your cap and gown, finding a comfortable position in the booth at the diner.

“Well,” you hesitate for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I quit my job at the bar.”

“Oh, honey. That is great news. That was no place for a young lady,” your mother adds, relief filling her face. You appreciate her concern.

“That is good, ___. It was only holding you back. What other offers do you have lined up?” Your father presses, curious and, frankly speaking, gullible.

“Well, dad- it’s not that easy.”

“Of course it’s not! Finding a job is a job of its own, ___. When I was your age I walked the streets tirelessly, paper in hand, circling every single option, talking to anyone that was willing to listen about my qualifications-”

“Dad.” He finally stops, looking at you, “I think that’s very admirable but, in this day and age we use Linkdn and no one is really willing to listen. You think you know rejection until a faceless HR worker ghosts you.”

“I understood two things from what you just told me but, nonetheless, darling, the value of good, honest work never goes unappreciated.”

You contemplate his words for a second. “I was thinking about volunteering at the library… we just passed it actually. It’s a book club for little kids.”

Your mom beams at your words, always one to encourage any sort of helping hand. Your dad, on the other hand, looks a bit crestfallen at the thought.

“You know, honey,” your mom takes it upon herself to break the heavy silence that falls around the table, “when you were a little girl you loved playing with dolls. You’d dress them in your old baby clothes and even made me get you real diapers for them! You went on to become a scholar, a bright young woman but… I always did think that you’d come into this world to be a mother.”

You know she doesn’t mean for her words to hit you in the gut like a clean punch but they do. Not because you didn’t share said dream but because you didn’t believe it was your only one. You didn’t think you’d have to sacrifice your talent and brains to be the very first thing you wanted to be when the world was four walls and an endless array of dolls: a mom.

“You’re a good dad.” You tell him, when it’s just the two of you and Soori, who has just begun to stir awake, once again.

He looks at you, surprised by how flustered your words find him. “Thank you. I try…” he replies, voice laced with honesty as he lets out a sigh.

“And a good hotel owner… person.”

He laughs at this, head falling back on his shoulders. “Thank you. Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know,” your gaze lands on the tall trees as you walk a narrow walkway back to the main lobby. You wish you could hold his hand. “I like seeing you… in action.”

“Yeah?” You only nod and he doesn’t miss the faint rosy tint that creeps up on your cheeks. “I thought you’d find it boring.”

“There is very little in this world I find actually boring.”

“I like that about you.”

God there it is. The gentleness of his soul. The butterflies that set flight once again, having never truly left.

You let yourself stare at him, a liberty that makes the sight of him all that more enticing. He stares back, a desire tugging in his chest to either tell you just how much he likes not just that about you but also the way you always speak your mind and hold his gaze so intensely he can sometimes even read it. Or just kiss you. His mind holds the debate, eyes traveling to your lips as he surrenders into the temptation. He’s just about to lean in when a higher force settles it for him.

“Darling!” You both turn around, slightly shaken as you’re met with the sight of none other than his mother.

“Hey, mom. How are you?” He says, walking towards her.

“I’m good, I’m good. Let me see her!” She’s excited and that’s all Soori needs to fall into her arms as soon as she’s freed from the coziness of the baby carrier and Jungkook’s chest. “Oh, look at those teeth. She looks just like you. Well, she’s prettier- no offense, honey.”

“Non-taken and agreed.”

“___, it’s good to see you again.”

“You too, Mrs. Jeon. I like your hat.” Jungkook can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips as his mother is taken aback by your compliment. His hand flies to his mouth to cover the impending chuckles that threaten to come out of it.

“Thank you.” She replies, her voice slightly confused but he can tell she’s flattered by the look on her face. “Your father’s at the restaurant waiting. Your meeting took too long, darling. You know he doesn’t like to wait. Let’s join him, shall we?”

She doesn’t necessarily wait for a reply from either of you, promptly turning around and heading to the direction of the restaurant. Soori’s in her arms and from a distance you can see how her eyes widen as her grandma speaks to her as she would a friend. ‘It is almost your birthday. I have no idea what to get you! What are you into these days? I hope you didn’t inherit that god-awful habit your father had back in the day of putting everything in his mouth. It turned just about everything into a choking hazard. What’s your favourite colour? Why don’t I ever see you in a dress…’

You can’t help but snort, a closed-lipped smile locking in your laughter.

“She’s in for a real treat when she finds out she was in tears the other day because I had to turn the Animal Planet off because all of a sudden the screen panned out to a lion absolutely devouring an emu.”

You break, full-on laughing now at the sole imagery of a nonchalant Soori and a frenzied Jungkook fumbling with the buttons of his high-tech remote control.

“Or when she finds out she can’t wear dresses because she likes to show everyone and their mothers her belly button.” You add.

“If I kept them on their toes just imagine her.”

You both remain in a peaceful silence for about a second as your laughter dies down.

“Hm, well… it’s all a karmic cycle so be prepared.” You muse, humming as he frowns.

“Nope. I’m prepared, you see? I at least know the god-awful habit is all babies. Not just me.”

You turn around, walking backwards as you face him. “Nope. I wasn’t talking about baby Jungkook.”

��Ha. Well, I stand my case. I also happen to be prepared. I have a bullshit radar for rebellious teens.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “I was an angel.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you look too much like one.”

“That’s just a bonus,” he flirts, picking his pace so he can get closer to you.

You click your tongue, biting your lip before you say,

“No. that’s just deceiving.”

Lunch is a smooth affair. Jungkook is merely an observer as his mother entertains Soori with random lady-who-brunches talk and his dad picks an interest in dissecting your literature degree. At first, it’s a bit patronizing and Jungkook visibly tenses next to you – it almost feels as if he was introducing you to them in the very same sense you’re both very well exploring. But his father, with a deep-rooted love for the classics, caves – engaging in quite the conversation. He doesn’t quite recognize the majority of the names you both throw back and forth but he looks at you in total awe. You talk about things with such passion and excitement. With love. And it is then that the thought haunts him:

You are love personified.

Jungkook doesn’t know just what that means. Or why his heart and brain ganged up on him and put the thought in his mind – engraving it. But it makes sense to him. You have a softness about you, a lightness that you carry that sheds light into the darkest of spaces, breaking down the tallest of walls. The hardest of men, i.e., his very own father.

Now, his parents might fall into most of the stereotype that characterize the filthy rich but, being assholes for no reason is not one of them. So, they welcome you and Jungkook can tell it surprises you. He also knows that a big part of their approach is due to the fact that they can so clearly see how fond Soori is of you and that is the one thing they’ve weakened for in all of Jungkook’s twenty-eight years on this earth. They have a weakness for her he doesn’t even think they had for him and he thinks it’s only normal, especially considering the circumstances. In fact, he’s grateful for it.

You all say your goodbyes, his mother pressing a kiss to Soori’s forehead before she lets her know, ‘table manners will be discussed with urgency during our next meeting’. She just giggles, grabbing a fist-full of her hair and tugging playfully, making her yelp. Jungkook feigns a stern front, attempting to tell her off but in reality, he just finds it hilarious.

Once they’re out of eyesight you turn to him, eyebrows raising in amusement.

“So, Mr. Jeon’s a romantic.” You state, making him wince in surprise.

“Sorry, come again?”

“Come on. Barret, Neruda, Keats… Baudelaire. The greatest poets of our time. All moved by a little thing called love.”

Jungkook doesn’t know enough to agree but coming from you he doesn’t doubt it. He doesn’t doubt you’re so well-read in something you carry so well. Love.

“I’ve heard my dad’s name followed by many adjectives but romantic is a first.”

“Are you one, too?”

“What?”

“A romantic.”

He hums. “Elaborate.”

“What is there to elaborate in?” You laugh, taking Soori in your arms when she decides to perform her free-fall from her father to you. It’s a good thing you’re both well-trained, always ready to catch her.

“Well,” he gets nervous, your effect on him makes his brain malfunction at times. “It’s a broad term, isn’t it?”

“Mm, depends. How do you see it? Do you see it as love or do you see it as love?” Your voice lilts at the end and he can’t help but laugh at it, half amused and half endeared.

“I don’t know,” but whatever he sees you at, that’s the closest. “But I have my set of beliefs.”

“Ah. So you are.”

He rolls his eyes but you don’t miss his smile. He can’t deny you, really. Because as much as love failed him, he can’t help but see it. He sees it in his parents, in their odd little ways of showing it. In his friends, in how he’s seen even the most untameable of characters be swooped off of their feet and straightened in one swift movement – all because of love. Love walked out on Jungkook but it left him the thing he loves the most. And the one person that he knows will always love him. She has four set of teeth and looks dangerously close to another free-fall as she smiles at him.

And he sees it in you. In the way you take on the world. In the way you speak and read your books and write in that beat up journal. In the way you sing to Soori who will most likely know the entirety of Elton John’s discography by the time she’s two.

Love feels so scary to Jungkook right now – it threatens to break him, even. But he’s not blind to it.

“Come on, I want to show you something before we go.”

“What is it with you and non-traditional means of transportation?”

The three of you stand at the end of the dock that sways softly to the beat of the current of the river. A long and sleek speedboat right in front of you. It’s beautiful – dark wood exteriors with black and white detailing, a royal blue flag with The West End insignia on it. You all but gawk as Jungkook jumps in, unconsciously taking a step back with Soori in your arms.

“You know, for someone who’s so easily entertained you sure are hard to impress.” He says as he digs through one of the compartments beneath the seats, retrieving a small, pink life-jacket, presumably Soori’s.

“What about this screams easy?” You sneer, making him let out a loud chuckle.

“Pass her over,” he tells you, hands stretching out towards Soori who jumps excitedly in your hold. You hesitate for a second, frowning at him. “Oh, don’t worry. She loves this thing. Look I even-,” he points to the tail of the boat and you see it. Soori Blue – her name engraved in dainty, cursive letters.

“Did you consent to this?” You ask her. She returns your question with a giggle.

You pass her to him and he puts the life-jacket around her, adjusting tightly as she distracts herself with her trusted giraffe. Once he’s done, he stretches his arm out for you. You don’t take it right away.

“Come on, ___. It’ll be fun.” He presses.

“No speeding, just boating, okay?”

“Don’t worry. it’s just boating when baby’s in. We can do the speeding another day.” He winks and you know nothing about his sentence was sexual but the action sends a flutter to your lower stomach.

You get in, taking Soori from him and settling in one of the plush seats as you wrap your arms around her, holding her tight. Just like flying, she takes on this activity like a champ, squirming excitedly when Jungkook gets behind the wheel and sets sail, no destination in particular, just leisurely roaming about the waters.

You can’t quite deny it – it’s soothing. The breeze is nice and relaxing and he sets a steady, relaxing pace. You glance towards him, eyes focused on the waters ahead and hands effortlessly manoeuvering the wheel. The wind dishevels his hair but it’s one hell of a sight as the strands fly freely around his face. He eventually tugs his front bangs behind his ears, making him look ten times dreamier.

He catches you staring. You look so beautiful. Hair dancing in the wind, your hand pressing down on Soori’s silky strands so they don’t fly off. Your white, flowy dress falls victim, too, as it pulls up your legs, exposing your tan skin to him. Soori’s fingers point to nowhere in particular and you pull her to you, kissing her cheeks before you nod and say, ‘water!’. His brain short-circuits at the impact the exchange has on him – on how tender you are with her. Jungkook has always loved to see the world through Soori’s eyes and always dreaded the day she’d outgrow that wonder. But in you he realizes that doesn’t have to necessarily be the case. He thinks that if you stuck around for long enough, she might never outgrow it – just adapt it. Just like you.

He brings the engine to a stop once the boat is far enough for the hotel to be a tiny speck in the distance.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you call out to him, “I’m impressed!”

Your smile widens as he walks closer to you, coming to a seat beside you.

“You like my speedboat?” He teases.

“I like your boat.”

You’re both laughing now, so loud even Soori joins in.

“Is it cliché to say that I like to come here to think?”

“No. I get it. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first place to cross my mind but… I see why it is yours.”

“You can’t escape them here. Your thoughts.”

You turn to him. “Do you escape them often?”

“I guess. Sometimes…”

“We all have thoughts that we want to escape, I reckon.”

“Do you have them?”

“Why wouldn’t I,” you ask.

“I don’t know. You strike me as brave. Like you would run straight towards them.”

“Brave? Me?” Your voice is shocked.

“Yeah,” his eyes meet yours. “You.”

“I’ve never been called brave in my life.”

He scoffs light-heartedly. “It was the first thing I saw in you. Really saw, I mean. When you sat there and put me in my place after I nagged at you during the interview. Nobody had ever sat my ass down so poetically, by the way.”

“You deserved that.”

“I deserved worst.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Your eyes are gentle and sincere and Jungkook melts at your words. At all of you.

“___,” he pauses, contemplating something you can’t read.

“Yes?”

“I haven’t felt sure of much in… a long time. Other than Soori and a handful of useless things, nothing holds much certainty in my life.” Your gaze deflects to the wooden floor at his words. “But you- I am sure of you. And wanting to try. And getting to know you.” He mimics your words from earlier, a timid smile forming at his lips at the relief he feels over saying them back. They’d been stuck in his chest, tickling up his throat every time he all but glanced at you.

You smile at him, a world of feelings taking over you, an airy voice when you say, “you’re brave, too.”

Your words ring in his ears, straight to his chest, knocking the breath out of him. For a second, he sees himself in your eyes – believes your words. And without much hesitation, he kisses you. Leaning into you, gently cupping your cheek with his hand. It takes you by surprise but you let yourself fall into his lips, scooting closer to him on the seat, both your arms still wrapped around Soori who babbles away as she plays with her giraffe. Your lips are soft and he pulls your bottom one in-between his teeth as you let out a sigh – a delicate sound that he catches with his mouth as his tongue finds yours, allowing him to go deeper.

He pulls back slightly, the both of you gasping for air for about a second before your lips find one another yet again – this time in a gentle lock, as he indulges in the plushness of your lips, how full they feel against his.

Your moment is cut short by Soori’s high-pitched shriek. You both look down at her and she smiles, blowing a sloppy raspberry into thin air, happy to have your attention back on her.

You bounce your leg and he pinches her cheek and that’s enough for her to be satisfied, eyes back on her plushie as she jumps straight back into the previous conversation they were having.

Jungkook leans back against the seat and extends his arm to the side, locking it around you until you’re safely tucked in – a cocoon of his warmth as you lean your head on his shoulder and his hand plays with your hair. Soori is in the middle and she mimics the two of you, leaning her body backwards until she’s resting against your stomachs.

“Oh, God. She copies everything,” you say.

“I know. Get ready for double the sloppy kisses.”

“From you or her?”

“Both.”

He leans forwards, his lips coming to smack at your cheek as he nuzzles closer to you.

You giggle at his touch – Soori follows.

Doorway goodbyes have gotten a tad bit harder with a teething Soori. It’s not that she fights being back in your arms after Jungkook hands her over to you – it’s more so having to see him leave and not having the possibility to alternate between the two of you.

Desperate times have called for desperate measures – aka, distractions. Today is half a pancake she nibbles on, chubby hand drenched in sticky honey. She offers it to Jungkook, always the kind girl she is. You think he’s going to take a fake-bite and fake-chew on it the way he normally does but he actually goes for it. Making you gasp in surprise.

“Heeey. Get your own pancake, daddy.” You say in a serious voice.

“Don’t call me that.” He points a finger at you, a scowl to his face. You chuckle.

“Don’t eat her pancake.”

“She likes to share.” He returns, his Soori voice on as he coos at her before kissing her cheeks. “Hey, by the way… we’re having a pool party on Sunday.”

“Oh. Fun…”

“Yeah. Jiminie’s inviting Lucy,” he wags his eyebrows at you. “I’m excited to finally meet her. Properly, I mean.”

You smile, excited for the two of them to be taking this step. “You’ll love her. You all will. She’s the best. Soori will love her!”

“I’m sure we will. But hey, I was wondering if maybe… you could come?”

“Why,” your tone is more brass than you originally intend.

“I want you there. I mean- I know we said… I don’t think they’ll be surprised. They’ll just think you’ll be here for Soori. Unless you don’t feel comfortable with that or- maybe you have plans which I completely understand-”

You smile a little at his rambling, interrupting him as he narrows his eyes at you. “I’ll be here. For Soori.” You see the fallen expression in his face and you break, “and for you. I like seeing you during the weekend. You get less bossy.”

“Funny, you.”

“Oh, I’m hilarious.”

He scrunches his nose, nodding. “Yeah, you kinda are.”

He scans the room for a second before confirming the coast is clear, leaning closer to you and placing a sweet peck on your lips – getting carried away for a second too long as he deepens the kiss.

He knows you don’t know this but you make doorway goodbyes easier for him, too.

“What is it with him?” Kenny’s eyes are glued to Jungkook as he sips on a beer and laughs at something Namjoon just said.

“I don’t know. He even laughed at something Tae said today.” Mai responds, her eyes fixed on the same sight.

“Maybe therapy has been helping?” Suelgi suggests.

“Yeah,” Mai’s voice drifts right in tune with her thoughts. Her eyes look for you, sat in Soori’s mat playing with her and Dae. “Therapy…”

“Whatever it is… it makes me happy. I mean, I hadn’t seen a smiling Ggukie in a while. I missed it.”

“Me too. And just overall, he seems different.” Suelgi says.

Mai smiles, simply nodding as she sips on her glass of wine.

He’s different alright.

“Hey,” you walk towards the small circle Jungkook, Lucy, Hobi and Jimin have formed.

They all greet you back, enthusiastically.

“Soori sort of drifted. She was with Yoongi on the couch so…,” you say to Jungkook, feeling a bit awkward at not knowing how to approach him with so much people around.

It’s not that you regret coming. It’s just that you don’t really feel like you quite fit in the environment. There are many eyes on Soori, all wanting to give her undivided attention and play with her. So, it’s not like you can do your job and mingling feels slightly out of place considering that you, well, keep one hell of a secret. A secret you try not to make obvious. So, you’ve been avoiding Jungkook at all costs.

“Yeah, the little kids tend to tire her out quickly as she tries to keep up with them. Have you eaten? Are you hungry? Do you want something to drink?” You frown slightly at his words, hoping your eyes convey the words your mouth can’t.

“No. Thanks. I’m actually looking for her ducky. I can’t seem to find it and she’s been making the ducky face so,”

“Oh. Shit, yeah. I think I might’ve left it in the playroom this morning. We were playing videogames.”

“We?” Hobi snorts at your remark and you instantly regret it. “I’ll look for it. Where in her playroom?”

“Not hers. Mine. Here, I’ll come with.” He says and before you can say anything else he starts walking towards the inside of the house.

Once you make it to the long hallway, the same one that leads to his office, he turns to you – face laced with concern.

“Are you okay,” he asks.

“Yes. Sorry- I just- I’m bad at keeping secrets. I feel like my dumb face gives it away.”

He smiles at this, relief flooding his body. “It’s not dumb. And I’m sorry. Maybe it was a bit selfish of me to have you come… I just- wanted to see you.”

“No, no. I want to be here. I wanted to see you, too.” You sigh, leaning your back against the wall. He takes a step closer to you, expression unreadable – perhaps with something dancing in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he mocks nonchalance.

“Jungkook,” your hand comes to push lightly at his tummy, “there’s like- everyone out there.”

“Why would they come here?” He takes another step forward.

“I don’t know? Bathroom?”

“There’s a bathroom in the pool house.”

“Oh?”

“Oh,” he says, finally closing the space around you and clashing his lips to yours in a soft, slow kiss.

You whimper against his mouth, not really expecting to be this close to him today. It’s healing, really, to be able to just be with him after having him so tentatively close to you the whole day yet so out of reach. You hear a nearing voice – Namjoon’s it sounds like.

“Jung-”

“Shh,” he tells you, grabbing your hands and walking backwards, opening the door behind him. He closes it, securing the lock.

You look around you – a huge room with blue LED lights illuminating it. A couple of arcade games lining the walls, a pool table and a huge black couch that sits in front of an even bigger TV.

“What is this,” you ask, eyes still scanning the room in awe.

“My playroom,” he states simply, pulling you to him by the hands and closing your lips around his once again.

You realize it, the moment you circle your arms around his neck, fingers getting lost in his dark locks as his hands find your waist, making their descend until they squeeze around your hips. You realize just how bold of a move it was to put the two of you in an empty room. Alone and unsupervised. Not even by the prying eyes of a baby.

Mistake, mistake. But what have we said about those?

He lets out a throaty moan against your mouth as you pull at his hair gently, hissing as your nails soothingly run over the spot. The feeling sends goosebumps down his skin and his hands travel down until they land on your ass. You push into him and he squeezes, hard. You moan when you feel him against your lower belly and marvel at how hard he feels through the thin fabric of his swimsuit. He pulls away some, forehead resting on top of yours as your ragged breaths mix together.

“Fuck,” he pants.

“We can just… kiss a little,” you whisper against his lips.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he ponders. “Slow…”

“Slow.” You repeat and before you can process the lie his lips are back on yours.

He walks forwards, arms around your waist as you walk backwards, letting him guide you towards the couch. His knees hit the back of the cushions and he sits, legs spreading and body melting into the pillows as he looks up at you with hooded eyes. He looks heavenly – red-bitten lips glistening with the trace of yours, ruffly hair and slightly flushed cheeks; the soft tint traveling down his neck all the way to his chest.

“C’mere,” he intwines his fingers with yours, pulling you to him until you’re straddling his lap.

“Hm, feels oddly-” a sigh escapes your lips as his mouth connects to a tender spot at the side of your neck, “familiar- fuck.”

And Jungkook knows he’s a goner. The moment his teeth scrape down the sensitive skin and you whimper and squirm in his hold, hips buckling against his, the way he dreamed of the last time he had you in this position. He knows this is where boundaries come to die.

“These dresses will be the death of me,” he says as his hands snake past the hem, kneading around the soft flesh of your ass.

You rut your hips against his, more firmly this time and you can feel him better now – almost fully hard, long and thick as you drag your clothed cunt over him, tiny little whimpers leaving your lips as your eyes shut at the way you tease your clit with every roll of your hips.

He feels it, too. And he can’t help but get high off of your pleasure, on the way your nails push against the soft flesh at the nape of his neck – the way your mouth parts slightly against his own, your hips picking up pace as he groans, hands on your ass as he aids your rhythm, alternating between rapid movements and deeper slow ones.

He’s fully hard now and he can feel the tension building up in his lower stomach, the way it caves in, making him shudder at the sharp pleasure that shoots through him as his cock throbs inside his pants. He tightens his grip around your hips, pulling upwards and away from him until they’re hovering over his. His head falls backwards, hand coming to run through his hair as he collects himself. “Wait- I’ll cum,” he pants.

“It’s okay,” you assure him.

“No. I want to- can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.”

Your voice is so lenient, so airy it sends Jungkook spiralling right into the very root of his lust.

Fuck slow.

His hands grip at the hem of your dress, bunching the fabric upwards until it rests against your tummy. Your hands replace his, holding onto your dress as his fingers run down the smooth of your legs, coming up to toy with the strings at one side of your bikini bottoms. His eyes divert from your lust filled ones all the way to his fingers as they leave feathery touches on your skin. He sees it then – a small butterfly tattoo that rests on your side, just below your hip at the curve of your ass. He groans, doubting he’s ever seen anything sexier in his life.

“Fuck- what is this, baby?”

The pet name sends your mind down a hazy spiral. “I- I wanted to be able to hide it.”

“It’s so sexy. You’re so sexy.”

He tugs at the string that holds your swimsuit in place, eyes widening slightly as the fabric falls apart on your skin, exposing your pussy to him. Your mouth parts, a silent moan breaking at your throat as his fingers come between your legs, digits rubbing at your clit. They travel downwards for a second before he collects your slick, rubbing it all over your little nub.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Is this for me, baby?” His question has your eyes snapping open, lazy gaze fixating on him as you nod and moan as his fingers pick up their pace.

“Y-yes. I’ve- been like this all day.” Your confession has him groaning as he brings your face to him, biting at your bottom lip.

“Yeah?” His fingers tease at your entrance, drawing tight circles against it. You nod hastily and when you do, they push all the way in – middle and ring finger sliding right in, hooking inside of you as he finds that spot that has your legs shaking, weak at the feeling as your hips come down to their original position. “Shit- you’re so fucking tight. Your pussy’s so fucking tiny, baby. Swallowing my fingers.”

“Jungkook- m-move, please,” you whimper and he complies, beginning his assault on your snug walls as he drags the long of his fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot repeatedly until he feels you get impossibly tighter around them.

Your moans get louder, sweeter, against his lips as his thumb draws tight circles around your clit. You hold onto him as the tell-tale signs of your orgasm begin to unfold above him. It’s intoxicating, all of you – the way your hips roll against his fingers, pressing on his cock. The way you whimper against his ear before your mouth finds his and you kiss him, deep. The way your thighs close around him, knees weak at your futile attempts to as his strong legs push yours further apart.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful- you gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes,” your voice is but a whisper, lips not parting from his. “I’m so- fuck. I’m so close.”

“Let go, baby. I got you.”

You cry out when you feel him press firmly against your g-spot, legs shaking as you cum around his fingers, cunt fluttering restlessly around them, powered by his thumb on your clit, stimulating you from all nerve endings. Jungkook can feel the way you gush all around his hand, not once doubting you’ve made a mess out of his swimsuit, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you say, completely fucked-out as you relax against his body, blissfully coming down from probably the strongest orgasm you’ve had, well, ever.

He brandishes your shoulders with little kisses as he removes his fingers from between your legs, bringing them all the way to his mouth before he sucks on them – eyes closing in pleasure. Before he can open them, your hand is closing around his clothed cock, tight grip as you stroke him. He moans, fingers slipping from his wet mouth.

“You don’t have to,” he says, hand coming to rest on top of yours.

“I want to. Please.”

That damn word coming from your pretty lips will see the end of him. He gives you a faint nod as his hand closes around yours, tightening your grip. But it’s not enough, for either of you. Your hips pull back some, and his body jerks as your bare cunt comes in contact with his balls through the thin material of his swimsuit. You roll your hips, pleased with his reaction. Your fingers hook on the waistband of his shorts and his hips raise slightly as you push them past his hips, just enough to free his cock. You nearly drool at the sight of him – cock springing up and away from the restraints, landing on his pelvis. He’s long and thick, a pretty set of veins running from base to tip where he leaks a tiny pearl of precum, arousal so evident as it twitches and he whimpers. Jungkook is in no position to get cocky, considering how painfully hard he is, but a lazy grin forms at his lips when he sees you gawking at the size of him, trying to wrap your head around it. Your tiny hand travels down his stomach, emitting a groan from him as your fingers wrap around his girth – the tip of your thumb and fingers barely able to meet as your fist closes around his cock.

Your head lowers a bit before your jaw twitches, collecting your build-up saliva before you let a string of spit fall from your mouth all the way to the tip of his cock. Jungkook’s eyes roll at the mere sight, a feral moan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, ___. Yeah- fuck. Just like that.” He praises as your palm closes around his tip, thumb toying with his slit as you collect the precum that builds up at your ministrations.

Your touch is soft but firm, twisting at the upstroke, pace picking up as you feel him pulse around you. You bring your other hand down and close it around his base, gripping tightly as your other hand works his shaft and squeezes at his tip. He begins to lose control under you, fingers pressing on the soft flesh of your thighs and hips thrusting up at the rhythm of your merciless grip around his cock. He doesn’t think he’ll last much longer, especially when you start rutting your pussy mindlessly over his balls that feel heavy at the wake of his impending release.

“Koo,” you’ve never called him that and it does things to him, cock fighting with his heart to see who’ll explode first. “Cum for me, please. I wanna make you feel good,” you plead and it’s that innocence in your voice that threatens to tip him over the edge.

“It feels so good, baby. So fucking good- ffuck. There- don’t stop,” he begs as your thumb presses against his frenulum and your other hand strokes his shaft, tight hold on it as you twist your wrist.

You whine, exceptionally loud and Jungkook’s eyes snap open, met with the sight of your face contorting in pleasure as you bite your lip, your hands on his cock never faltering as the friction of your clit dragging against his balls rips another orgasm out of you. He thinks he’s about to pass out as he feels your pussy flutter as you press down on him.

“F-fuck. Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re gonna make me cum,” his hands fly to your hips, moving them against him even as you squirm in sensitivity.

“Yes, please- cum for me.” You sound delirious and that does it for him.

His head rolls back, leaning against the sofa as a feral groan rips from his chest – throaty and dreamy and you think you can cum again just by the way he sounds and looks as he falls apart under you. Face contorting in pleasure as he pulls his lip in-between his teeth, biting hard as his cock jerks in your hold and he spills all over your hands – so much cum some even lands on his tummy. His abs tense and finally release once he begins to come down.

“Holy fuck,” his voice shakes, hands gently coming down and removing yours from around his cock as he cringes with the over-sensitivity.

“That was…,” you start.

He sighs, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “So good.”

You hum in response, face nuzzling against his touch. “I think we should head back. No one is going to believe it was this hard to find a rubber ducky.” You say, looking down at his softening cock.

“Don’t make me laugh just yet, I think I just blacked out.”

You hold back a chuckle, lips gently pressing against his as his hand plays with your hair.

“I’ll go clean up first. I’ll tell them you got a work call or something.”

He only nods, shooting you a lazy smile before you come to a standing position – steps faltering a bit as you regain your balance.

Jungkook’s head is still floating in cloud nine and he lets himself enjoy it for a minute until he can process just how good that was and how it’s about to make slow most likely, probably – impossible.

He walks into the living room, face glued to his phone as he scrolls aimlessly through it.

Yoongi lays on the couch with Soori nuzzled against his side as she suckles on her bottle.

“Hi,” he says when he sees Jungkook.

“Hey, man.” He responds casually.

“You look like you just fucked your nanny,” his voice has its usual monotone ring to it and Jungkook eyes widen at his blunt words.

“Yo. Language.” He scolds, pointing at Soori.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He sits next to Soori, covering her ears, “I did not fuck ___.”

Yoongi scoffs, diverting his eyes back to the tv. “Really now? Are you gonna hit me with another she just straddled my lap?”

Jungkook stays silent.

Thankful his honesty back then landed him into this white lie so easily.

HI. if u made it this far – i hope u enjoyed!! this was my first time explicitly squeezing my sexy juices out and I ENJOYED THAT A LITTLE TOO MUCH. i never want to leave the countryside. i am, officially, becoming a country girl. i truly hope u enjoyed. let me know what you thought!! i love talking to u guys, but u already know that <333 i’m sending loads of love!!!! xxxxx

★taglist★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere @drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie @shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie @girl-meetsevil @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses @kookiecrumb @casspirit0705 @eclectictacozinewobbler @tickledpink55 @rjsmochii @dimcorner @miniiimee @vintageroses10 @amyniu @tessxblxckthorn @emotionaltrashcansblog @fangirl125reader @laurynne5 @thickgrinch @dianaxnyc

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

The Devil’s own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.)

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I wasn’t sure how long I stayed there , staring at the ceiling and trying to come to terms with what had just happened. It was revolting. It was nauseating. It made me want to claw my own skin off. I stared at the intricate designs , carved into the ceiling, the panels that reflected life and made the room seem bigger than it was. The scent of jasmine and rosemary clung to the sheets and the drapes in the room, cloyingly sweet and meant to arouse the occupants.

I wondered how I’d got here.

I had memories of satin silk sheets and bright lights. My father had always spoiled me, the best of the best only for his only daughter and I’d indulged in luxury to my heart’s content. More shoes than I could possibly wear in a life time. Every season’s collection, straight into my wardrobe whether I asked for it or not. Diamonds and rubies and emeralds set in platinum and gold , jewelry to match my clothes and even my car if I felt like it.

I shut my eyes in despair. I didn’t miss the luxury as much as I missed the solitude. The option to just not do anything. My father hadn’t cared enough to see what I was upto and everyone knew that I was betrothed to Jungkook.

And that meant no dates or party invites because after the third guy got his arm in a sling after accidentally brushing past me , word kind of spread. Stay away from Elena Gong or the Jeon kid will break your bones.

I shuddered. It had been an obsession, I thought vacantly.

Jungkook had been obsessed, even back then. I just hadn’t paid much heed to him. Because Jungkook back then had been terrifying but also ridiculously endearing in some way. He had seemed for lack of a better word…..insignificant. I was beautiful and rich, never lacked for attention and he was just one among the dozens. Even if I was betrothed to him, I hadn’t given much thought to him.

And Jungkook had taken my indifference in stride. He’d laughed and played around and I hated to admit it, treated me like a queen. Flowers, chocolates and gifts every other day . He would follow me around like a puppy , and I wondered if perhaps my dismissive attitude towards him back then had been a mistake. Did it push him over the edge?

My heart ached fiercely and when I finally willed myself to move, my body protested.

Every inch of me was sore and aching. My head because of how hard he’d gripped my hair. I sat up on shaky legs, fingers trembling as I pulled my shit up to stare at my body. Bite marks littered my skin, marring the smooth surface and I felt bile in my throat at the memory of his teeth on me. Finger shaped bruises were beginning to bloom around my thighs and I couldn’t breathe over the agony ripping up my insides.

I glanced down between my thighs, at the sticky mess of his release dripping down into the sheets, staining the sheets a murky pink. I shuddered, disgusted. God, I hated him. Where was my phone? My clothes were still there at the foot of the bed and I noticed the small door on the right wall. Crawling off the bed on shaky legs , I limped carefully to the bathroom.

I took Hoseok’s shirt off dropping it in the corner before turning the showers on.

The water felt like a whip on my skin as I sat on the tiled bathroom floor , a small washcloth gripped tight in my hand as I carefully cleaned myself up. I had no idea what the time was… It must be very early or very late. No matter. I had to get out of here and get to Jisoo. I swallowed, imagining her alone all this time. The doctors had said she would be up in Guilt churned as I quickly grabbed a towel from the closet and wiped myself down.

It took me another ten minutes to finish dressing up and just as I finished slipping into my shoes, the door opened. I glanced up, catching sight of Hoseok as he leaned against the door. He looked a little haggard, a black silk shirt unbuttoned to his chest and tucked into fitted jeans. I stared at him, watching the way his gaze roved over every inch of exposed skin, looking just a tad bit worried.

“The Hospital called. “ He said gently, “ They’re ready to release you sister. They want to know if you can come pick her up. The baby’s going to have to stay in the NICU for a couple of weeks.”

I groaned. Great. More bills.

“I need a job. “ I said miserably. “ Help me out.” I stared at him beseechingly and Hoseok gave me a look.

“you know the kind of jobs I provide. You’re not built for it. “ He said shortly and I shook my head, impatient.

“that’s not what I meant and you know it. You and your friends pretty much own every club in the city. Get me a job ….” I whispered, moving to stand in front of him and he recoiled.

Just as always, I thought bitterly. Coward.

As much as a coward now as he’d been ten years ago, when he’d pretended that he didn’t have any feelings for me. Pretended that he didn’t give a damn about me.

The throb in my skull grew in intensity.

My throat was dry and I felt my vision swim a bit. I was tired. Exhausted . I hadn’t slept in….how long really? I hadn’t eaten in a day…for sure… And I likely wasn’t going to be eating for a long while, let alone feeding Jisoo if I didn’t get a job right away. I had twelve thousand won to my name and that was it.

“Jungkook-“ He began but I was sick of his name so I growled.

“Fuck, do you want me to beg Hoseok? I will… I can’t … I need a job… Please.” I said desperately, staring at him and his gaze softened.

“Elena, stop looking at me like that, fuck.” He swore, turning and punching the wall hard. “ fuck.”

“Just help me get a job. I’m not asking you to give me money or something. You don’t even have to get it for me… Just tell me who’s hiring ? Somewhere away from Jungkook and his men.” I whispered , and the sheer irony of it didn’t escape me. Jung Hoseok was possibly one of Jungkook’s main men.

He ran his hand over his forehead, shaking his head.

“You’re going to get me killed someday.” He muttered, “ Fine. There’s a club down in Itaewon. It caters to cops and lawyers exclusively so Jungkook and his men usually keep out of it. My friend owns the place. His name is Im Jaebum. I’ll get you a job there , waitressing. Is that alright?” He said softly and I wanted to sob in relief as I nodded. Itaewon meant pretty close to where the bakery was. I could take the bus.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him and call you. Here…” He held out a wad of cash and I took it greedily, eyes widening at the 100,000 written on the margin of each note. This was a lot of money.

“Hoseok…”I said stunned and he shrugged. “ Get food and baby stuff for Jisoo. If she’s going to feed the baby she needs to eat well. Fruits and veggies and lot of protein. If you run out, tell Jaebum you need some advance. He’ll pay you well.”

I nodded, stuffing the money into my pockets quickly . I swallowed when my insides throbbed, aching something fierce.

“Thank you.” I said softly, staring up at him and he hesitated, before reaching out and gently cupping my face in his palm. I flinched at his touch and he recoiled.

“Was he… Did he hurt you?” He whispered quietly and I smiled bitterly.

“Wasn’t that the whole point?” I sighed, shaking my head . I hesitated . I wasn’t sure if Hoseok would listen to me but I had to try at least.

“ Can you not tell him? That… That I was a virgin?” I asked quietly and he nodded.

“Wasn’t planning to.” He said casually.

I stared at him. I’d always found him handsome. Beautiful. Perfect . And I wondered where we had gone so wrong.

“Do you regret it.” I whispered. “ All those choices you made.”

“Which ones? …” he asked bitterly.

“you know… “ I snapped. “ the ones that lead us here. You and me…. Standing here like strangers. “

“I wouldn’t risk my life for a stranger. Which is what I’m doing every time I help you .” He said quietly.

“So what are we then?” I demanded.

“Old friends” He said casually.

I snorted.

“Fucking coward.” I whispered , loud enough for him to hear as I brushed past him and walked away.

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

I trudged all the way to the VIP room in the hospital flinching because that was probably a lot of money to be repaid , now owed directly to the devil spawn that was Jeon. I had grabbed a small meal on the way before quickly getting the bus to the Hospital. It was little past eleven in the morning and the hallways were packed with people. Sighing, I moved to the room where Jisoo was, slowly opening the door.

Min Yoongi sat on the chair next to the bed, gazing idly at my sister in law.

To say that I was shocked would be the biggest understatement of the century. My lips parted in shock, panic bubbling up inside me as I exhaled sharply.

“What-“ I swallowed gazing between him and my Jisoo, who was sitting up against the backrest on the bed, a tray of food on her lap and a small smile on her face.

“Lena!! You’re here!” She cried out softly, tears filling her eyes at once as she held both her hands up. I moved to hug her but my mind stayed on the man near the bed, his sultry feline eyes trained unblinkingly on her. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to get my breathing to regulate but it was impossible.

What on earth was Yoongi doing here?

“Mr. Min came to see me. He told me he knew Daehwan.” Jisoo said softly, looking sad but hopeful and I felt my heart turn over as I turned to stare at him.

Min Yoongi knew Daehwan as a target . A hit he had carried out himself.

But I couldn’t say a thing. Not in front of Jisoo.

“I’m only here to offer my help. It pains me to see you suffering, Jisoo. I know your husband would want you to be taken care of.” He said softly, his gaze still fixed on her and I didn’t like it. At all.

Bile rising, I gave him a glare.

“I’ll take care of her. Please don’t trouble yourself.” I said shakily and he glanced at me, lips parting a bit, turning into a smirk.

“You look… well rested.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Lena, come on… I know all this…this must be expensive. We can use all the help we can get and Mr. Min-“

“Please call me Yoongi, sweetheart.” Yoongi said charmingly and my sister in law blushed. I felt my skin crawl.

“Y-Yoongi said he has a spare room. I can’t stay in the bakery. And it’s not like he’s a murderer or anything. He showed me his card. He’s a lawyer.” She said softly and I sighed in despair. Jisoo was naïve bordering on stupid and I wasn’t equipped to deal with this.

As I watched she went back to the food, eating ravenously and I felt my heart clench. I could see the twin damp spots at her chest and I noticed the breast pump on the table. It looked brand new. I hadn’t even thought about things she may need after the baby, too preoccupied with all the hospital bills and medicines I would have to pay for.

Diapers. Baby wipes. Those little flannel pieces mothers used to wipe down the baby. I felt my head spin, turning to Yoongi who was staring at me casually.

“Can we talk?” I said quietly and he straightened.

“Jisoo ssi… Please enjoy your meal. And here…” He gave her his phone. “ If you’re done, just give me a buzz on this.” He showed her something on the phone .” Go on try it.”

Jisoo pressed down on the screen curiously and Yoongi’s watch rang .

He grinned as she smiled.

“See? One touch and I’ll be here yeah?” He said softly, and I felt like I was stuck in some kind of drama, glancing between the pair of them.

“Are you leaving?” She asked curiously and he shook his head.

“I’ll be right here, outside. Having a word with Elena. You can finish your food and I’m guessing it’s time for you to pump again? The pediatrician said you’d have to pump every two hours with the milk so… if you get it ready, I’ll drop it off at the NICU.” He said calmly.

Jisoo nodded, staring at him with wide eyed gratefulness and I sighed in despair.

Yoongi moved to the door and I gave her a small smile before following him.

I waited till the door had closed behind me before turning to him, furious.

“What do you think you’re-“

“I want her.” He said shortly.

I felt my jaw come unhinged.

“No.” I hissed, furious and helpless with rage. “ Yoongi-“

“Don’t make me put a bullet in your head for this, Elena.” He said calmly and I exhaled shakily.

“She’s… You know she’s not like us. She doesn’t know anything about this life. As far as she knows my brother was a surgeon who got killed in a hit and run. You want to …. What do you really want? Did Jungkook put you upto this?”

“If Jungkook would have his way, your sister in law and your new nephew would both be dead. You know this.” Yoongi said casually. God, could I ever have a conversation with anyone without Jungkook being dragged into it? When did my life get twined so intimately with him?

“Where is he?” I asked quickly and Yoongi shrugged.

“He’s out of the country. He left an hour ago.”

“Switzerland….” I said before thinking and Yoongi stiffened.

“How did you know?” He demanded and I froze.

“I… I overheard …..someone.” I muttered and Yoongi moved so fast I barely caught it. The next second I was pressed up against the wall, his forearm pressing into my throat and holding me down while he held a knife right against my jugular.

“Nice try. Now the truth.” He hissed.

“Ouch..” I choked out , coughing a bit. “ Fine.. Hoseok.. Hoseok told me.”

Yoongi pulled back.

“You fukcing him?” He asked casually and I glared at him.

“none of your business.” I snapped.

He laughed at that.

“I know you aren’t. Hoseok loves his dick too much to risk having it castrated.”

I sighed, shaking my head. I wasn’t here to talk about these bastards.

“Just leave Jisoo alone.” I said quietly and Yoongi sighed.

“What are you going to do with her, Elena. You can barely afford to feed yourself. You should be thankful I’m taking her off your hands.”

I ignored his nonsense and moved till I was pressed up against him, fingers curling into his chest. Yoongi looked surprised, lips twisting in displeasure when I blinked up at him.

“please.. Yoongi…” I begged, “ Don’t do this to me.” I said quietly. “ I … she’s all I have… She… My brother had nothing to do with any of this. You know that….He left this life decades ago. I don’t… I don’t know why Jungkook wanted him dead in the first place. I loved my brother and my brother loved his wife. I owe it to him … Please…just…Please leave her alone.” I whispered softly, letting my fingers drop to grip his arm.

He tugged his arm away at once.

“ She needs more than empty platitudes and good intentions. She needs food and a place to stay with her baby. I’m giving her that.”

“And what do you get in return?” I demanded angrily. “ She just gave birth, fuck you. You can’t touch her , not unless you’ve lost the last shreds of humanity in that conscience of yours.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not doing this for sex, Elena. If I wanted easy pussy, I would have come to you…” He smirked. “ Don’t forget that Jungkook and I share our toys, yeah?”

I opened my mouth to retort before remembering that I was trying to get him to listen to him.

“Then why? What do you want…tell me?”

“I told you. I want her. As she is.” Yoongi shrugged.

“You killed her husband.” I said , voice shaking as I remembered what Jungkook had said. About my brother begging for his life because Jisoo was pregnant. And how Yoongi hadn’t given a shit and shot him anyway.

“A minor inconvenience. Trust me if I’d seen her before I killed him…” He sighed, shaking his head in regret and I frowned.

“You would have spared him? “ I asked bitterly and Yoongi laughed.

“No.. I would have killed him sooner.” He smirked. “ Is there a point to this whole conversation… I’m getting bored and Jisoo’s waiting inside.”

“We’re supposed to get her out of the hospital today and-“

“I’m taking her home.” He said briskly. “ I’ve already spoken to her. And She’s agreed that a ramshackle , dilapidated bakery isn’t the right place for a new mother and a tiny baby.”

And the worst part was that I couldn’t even disagree.

And I couldn’t help but feel angry, betrayed. Jisoo was…. How could she? She hadn’t even bothered to talk to me about it… Just agreeing to move in with Yoongi. She was older than me. Supposed to be the smart one. My body ached. If that was the bed she was going to make , she could lie on it.

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

“Going somewhere?” Jungkook’s voice made me freeze.

I swallowed, straightening and stepping back almost instinctively. He stood in the doorway, a cigarette held between his teeth as he stared at me . He looked like he’d showered as well, hair still damp and the smells of citrus and mint permeating the air around him.

It was exactly ten days since I’d last seen him and I’d settled into a routine of sorts. Im Jaebum’s bar, Venom was an exclusive club in Itaewon and I could easily disappear into the shadows, staying low and using the beret ( a part of the uniform ) to keep my face hidden as I served the patrons. Like Hoseok had said, the place was filled with cops and lawyers. Yoongi was a frequent fixture here , stopping for just a drink on most days before heading home to my sister in law.

It made me sick but there was nothing I could do about it. Jisoo and little baby Yunsu were both home and needed a l,ot of care. And Yoongi apparently had a cook, a housekeeper and a nanny who helped her out. Jisoo was wary, her senses finally returning but she was also clearly glad to be out of the streets.

“I’m going home after I finish my shift. “ I said softly, trying not to stare as he stepped into the room. I turned away from him moving to the shelves and pushing the small canister in place.

“Where’s home?” He asked casually. I flinched when he stepped right behind me, fingers reaching out to curl on my shoulder, pulling me back till I was flush against his chest. The heat of his body seeped in through the thin fabric of my blouse and I felt my body heat up.

“You got what you wanted.” I said shakily. “ Let me go.” I whispered, dropping the cleaning cloth in the tray on the lower shelves, before moving to grab the mop. I just had to finish mopping the floor . And then I could leave.

But his grip on me stayed firm. I couldn’t move. Foreboding rose inside me.

Jungkook hummed at that, stepping closer, till I felt his chin brush the top of my head as he bent over me, arms coming around me and fingers lightly unbuttoning the first two buttons of my shirt. I stared at the dark ink on his forearm. , swallowing as he kept coming closer.

“What I wanted? That pathetic little display ten days ago?” He whispered softly “ Just think about this Elena …… I’ve been chasing you for years, I got rid of your entire family and yet I let you live. Why do you think that was, huh? “ He shook his head, “ For two minutes of you lying underneath me like a frigid bitch? You think that’s what I want Elena? Think I’ll be satisfied with that? ” He laughed.

I stared at the wall in front of me and I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t play this sick game with him. Not when he kept changing the rules . Not when there was nothing left for me to gamble or lose.

“Jisoo. I have to go see her. Just… Just let me go see her. I need to see if she’s alright and then we can talk. ” I whispered. Jungkook smiled, tilting my head to the side with his fingers. I felt the damp press of his lips against my jaw and my skin crawled.

“Don’t worry, Yoongi’s taking care of her.” He whispered softly and I felt my heart turn over in my chest at the reminder. I’d been forced to relent because Yoongi had taken her home to a fully finished and decorated nursery , a closet full of baby clothes for her son and nursing clothes for her. She had been bowled over and when I’d told her to think about the why of it…she’d given me a helpless sort of smile. . As far as she was concerned , Yoongi had been nothing but generous and kind… And she wasn’t going to say no to him because she couldn’t afford to..

“I… he promised me he’d let me see her. And the baby…every day. That was the deal.”

Jungkook laughed.

“I thought I made this clear . You don’t get to make deals with anyone because you belong to me. I get to decide what happens to you. Anytime. Anywhere. Do you need another demonstration , Elena?” His hand moved to my breast, groping the flesh, fingers rough and hard and I whimpered in pain.

“No..” I choked out , eyes widening in terror and he made quick work of the rest of the buttons on my blouse. Junkook hummed, kissing the back of my neck and slowly turning me around in his arms.

“Relax. You don’t have a job. How are you going to feed her and the kid? Yoongi isn’t like me. He doesn’t hold a lot of grudges. And for some reason he seems to have a hard on for your sister in law. He wants to marry her. ” He chuckled and I felt nausea bloom.

“No.. Don’t… Don’t do that to her. She’s not like us. She doesn’t know… She doesn’t have anything to do with this life.” I begged, heart racing at the thought of Jisoo, helpless and scared and alone with a baby , trapped with a fucking assassin. Yoongi killed for a living . That was his job. Jisoo was delicate and sensitive.

“She still needs to eat and live right? With what? He’s feeling particularly generous so he’s taken her home . You don’t have to worry about them anymore… Isn’t that nice?” he smirked and I felt my throat go dry.

I clenched my fists, feeling my breath catch.

“The only person you need to worry about yourself is yourself. Isn’t that how you prefer it anyway? Beautiful selfish Elena who never gave a fuck about anyone but herself. Isn’t that who you truly are, angel?” He smiled.

“Not anyone…. Just you… I don’t give a fuck about you.” I said defiantly, staring right up at him.

Jungkook stared at me and stepped closer, reaching out and running his fingers up and down my cheek. I flinched because he still held the lit cigarette.

“None at all?” He asked curiously, lightly tapping on the end of the cigarette, and I flinched when the hot ash spilled onto my shoulder.

“Did that hurt, baby?” He whispered, leaning in and pressing the cigarette to my lips.” I’m sorry. Breathe in for me.” He stuck the cigarette into my mouth and I pulled away , coughing and disgusted.

I closed my eyes as his free hand went to my wrist, tugging me closer. I stiffened as he wrapped his arms around me, drawing me in till my face pressed against his chest, his body flush against mine, one hand moving back to stroke my back.

“I missed you. You’re terrible at pleasing me but I think…with a little bit of training, you can make me cum… ” He smirked. “ Let’s start with a blowjob, yeah?”

I stiffened.

“No.” I said softly and he smirked, pulling back.

“No?” He asked softly. . I felt my throat go dry in fear as I noticed the way his gaze shifted. I bit my lips to stifle the pain as He carefully pressed the lit end of the cigarette right against the curve of my breast , pressing in for a couple of seconds and pulling away just before the skin began to singe. He glanced up at me, and I blinked through the tears, pain spreading all over my chest at the burn. That would leave a scar, I thought miserably.

“Wrong answer. Try again.” He whispered.

“Go to Hell.” I choked out.

I flinched when his fingers slipped up into my hair, gripping hard. My scalp burned, sharp and insistent and instinct made me grip his wrist, trying to get him off but it was impossible.

“Let me go..” I snapped, glaring at him. God, How I hated him.

“Was I your first??” He whispered, dragging me close enough that his lips brushed my ear. “ Never had a cock before? Was that why you were so fucking tight?”

I bit my lips, glaring at him, defiant and furious. Did Hoseok actually tell him? That two faced snake…. God , why did these fuckers never leave me alone?

“Seokjin hyung told me…Told me he was looking forward to breaking a virgin and that made me think….God, I was the first cock she ever had….” He hummed, looking infinitely pleased.

“Yes. And I got to say… I don’t know what the fuss is about. You couldn’t even make me cum.” I snapped and Jungkook grinned, grip tightening and the other hand moving to curl around my waist, squeezing hard.

“Did I make you bleed from between your legs Elena? Tell me I did….Cause that’s fucking hot. ” He whispered, voice low and gruff.

Jungkook, I thought vacantly, was a psychopath.

“Go to Lisa. Go fuck her and make her bleed if that’s what gets you off…. and leave me alone.” I whispered and he smiled, bending down pressing a kiss right where he’d burned my skin.

“I don’t need you to tell me that. She’s my fiancé. The woman I’m going to marry. And you know what that means? I actually give a shit whether she cums or not. And trust me she does. Multiple times. Sometimes so hard she passes out.”

“Or maybe she fakes it. Maybe she passes out because she can’t stand your touch either.” I shrugged. “ Because we all know that’s what she’s good at Jungkook. She faked her friendship with me , she’ll fake her loyalty to you.”

“Always got something smart to say, huh Elena? Let’s see how mouthy you get when I’m shoving my cock down your throat.”

I flinched when he pushed me, hard enough to send me sprawling on the floor. I caught myself with difficulty , throwing my hands out to keep my head from hitting the floor. I flinched at the pain that shot up my body, every inch throbbing because of how rough this fucker had been with me.

Ten days and the aftermath of that night still lingered on me.

And it was three in the morning and I’d spent eight hours on my feet bussing tables , I was exhausted.

I closed my eyes, before pressing my palm against the floor, trying to pull myself up when I felt the press of his shoe at the base of my spine, pushing me down.

I whimpered in shock, my hands giving out and shoulder crashing down into the floor.

“Stay down for a second, baby.” He whispered and I exhaled.

I pressed my palm against the floor, head dropping on to the carpeted floor . I whimpered when I felt him crouch down, foot digging in harder into my back and I curled my fingers into the carpet to swallow the pained sound that bubbled up in my throat.

“I’m going to fuck you again. And this time I want you to do all the work.” Jungkook’s voice came from over me and I flinched. I considered the odds of me putting up a fight and actually winning. It was laughable. I wasn’t going to fight a force of nature. And that was what Jeon Jungkook was.

“ You can’t make me do anything Jungkook.” I whispered finally. “ You can hit me and rape me and kill me but you can’t make me do anything to you. You just have to live with that.”

His foot lifted off my spine and I felt hands on my arms, pulling me up till I was kneeling. I watched as he moved around to stand in front of me.

“Look at me.” He said carefully.” From now you only speak when I tell you to.”

“ Whatever. Let’s get this over with so I can go see my sister and my nephew.“ I said shakily.

He sighed deeply at that, shaking his head.

“See, if it was upto me, I’d just put a bullet in both their heads. Cos at this point they’re just proving to be a nuisance.”

My blood turned to ice in my veins.

“ But, Yoongi’s just getting to know your pretty little Jisoo…And he’s my favorite hyung. So I’m going to let her live. But, let’s not invade their privacy for a while.” He began unbuckling his belt and I felt nausea rise inside me.

“Jungkook?” The voice came from the door and I stiffened. Jungkook groaned.

“Baby, what the fuck are you doing here?” He said gruffly, standing up and using his knee to push me out of the way roughly. I swore, gripping the edge of the table near me to steady myself before turning around to stare at the woman at the door. I stumbled to my feet, still feeling a little out of it. I needed food. Before I collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“You were supposed to come see me tonight. I went looking for you everywhere and I find you here about to get with some common whore?” she shouted and I stiffened, glaring at her.

She stood framed in the doorway, staring at me for a second before letting her gaze wander all over the room. She stared at me, eyes taking in the unbuttoned blouse and I quickly moved to put the buttons back on.

“Did you fuck her?” She demanded angrily and Jungkook hummed.

“Since when did I owe you answers, angel?” He asked casually and I watched the woman’s eyes widen, before her brows furrowed in a frown.

“ So what, I can’t ask you who you’re with ?” She asked angrily and Jungkook groaned , kicking out at the nearest stand with enough force to send it toppling over the side, crashing to floor and breaking on impact. I stumbled, back, wrapping my arms around myself as he fairly growled.

“What the fuck is up with all you cunts today?” He demanded, glancing at me in distaste. “ I come back after busting my ass at work for ten entire days . I just needed to get my dick sucked and you two.” He shook his head, hand reaching into his jacket and I felt my eyes widen when he pulled his glock out, releasing the safety and loading the gun before pressing the muzzle right against her skull.

The woman whimpered, hands held up as he tapped the firearm against her.

“You. You don’t come anywhere near me unless I send for you. Is that clear?” He asked sharply and she nodded frantically, abject terror written all over her face.

He turned to me.

“And you. You’re coming with me.” He said quietly and I felt my eyes widen. I opened my mouth to protest but the girl at the door beat me to it.

“I think not…. You’re not taking her anywhere, Jungkook, I’ll-“ She began, reaching forward to grab him and Jungkook moved so quickly, I could barely blink.

The shot rang out , making me jump and I watched as she crumbled to the floor, crying out in pain. I stared in horror, watching the hole in her arm, spilling blood all over the floor and the hallway and my throat went completely dry, staring at the girl on the floor and the blank, absolutely merciless look on his face.

“Just because I let you sit on my cock once in a while, doesn’t mean you get a say in how I live my life.” He said quietly, using his foot to prod her hip. He glanced at me and I felt my throat go dry as he pulled the glock back to reload it.

He aimed the gun right at me, eyes dark and heavy.

“Are you going to be good for me, baby? Or do you need a physical demonstration as well?” He tilted his head to where the girl was on the floor, pressing her palm against her arm.

“She’s bleeding out.. “ I choked out. “ you need to get her help, Jungk-“

Another shot rang out and I jumped, heart in my throat as I tried to understand what had happened. It took me a second to realize that he hadn’t shot me. That he had fired at the ceiling.

“Answer the bloody question Elena.” He growled and I flinched, nodding.

“I… I’ll listen… Just…” I glanced back at the poor girl on the floor.” Get her some help.”

Jungkook smiled a little. He turned to the girl on the floor and shook his head.

“Get up baby. Go find Hoseok and get that patched up, yeah? And don’t provoke me the next time, yeah? ” He said casually and she stumbled to her feet, looking disoriented and scared as she moved out of the door.

“ And you. “ He glared at me. “Finish dressing up and follow me.”

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

“Where are we going?” I asked nervously, fighting the instinct to just take off at a sprint, as we walked down the road to where his Mercedes was parked.

“My home. Where else?” He said casually and I stiffened.

“Jungkook-“

“Didn’t I tell you not to speak unless I ask you to, Elena? I’m jet lagged and angry. Trust me , you don’t want to piss me off now.” He said casually and I swallowed.

He opened the door for me, the polite gesture so at odds with what he was doing that my head began to throb.

But I climbed in nonetheless. I stayed quiet for the short ride to his apartment , eyes fixed straight ahead and Jungkook was quiet too. I was too exhausted to be scared, I thought despondently, my eyes drooping because of how long I’d been up. Glancing out the window, I watched the cars whizz by, people living their lives, completely unaware that almost all of them were merely tiny little gears in a machine run exclusively by men like Jungkook. That all their lives, spent working and earning and dying…it was all meaningless. They had no say in anything. People like Jungkook were the ones who got to shape the world to their liking. The ones who got to play God.

And Jungkook was definitely the closest to an omnipotent human I’d ever come across.

Powerful, untouchable and terrifying.

So perhaps, it was a little flattering, that I was the one thing he couldn’t get out of his head.

I glanced at him discreetly.

He was beautiful, I thought with a pang. One of the most beautiful men on this planet. Despite the years, his boyish charm was still right there on his face and he could slip on a plaid shirt , a white t shirt and stone wash jeans and pass off as an innocent college student. I stared at the taut jaw, the long column of his neck and the broad back. His biceps bulged when he gripped the steering when and my eyes lingered on the long fingers curled around the wheel.

I jumped when his hand moved to grip the stick shift , curling on the knob and yanking it back with force. I swallowed, thighs pressing together as my mind shifted to that night in Hoseok’s club. I hated myself for how often I relived it. And not always with disgust.

My fingers fell on the ring on his finger. His engagement ring, I thought with a pang. Lisa. Beautiful, wonderful Lisa who had been a dear friend . Once. For all her shortcomings I knew she loved the man who sat next to me. Cared deeply for him, even. Why else would she do this to me? She must have strong feelings for him , if it had prompted her to throw away our friendship of over a decade.

“You’re cheating on her then.” I said quietly. His reminder to not talk to him rang in my head but I couldn’t stop myself. He wasn’t a stranger. And that ring…the ring that promised to bind two people forever….. I’d worn it too. For him.

Jungkook didn’t reply, merely glancing at me in passing.

I sighed, looking at my knees, feeling my shoulders tremble a bit.

“Is she going to be there?” I asked quietly.

He exhaled sharply. I noticed the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“No.” He said shortly.

“She lives with you right? You said we’re going home ….then where is she-“

“What is this, twenty fucking questions?” He snapped and I swallowed. “ I’m not taking you home to my fiancée Elena, do I look like a fucking idiot? “ He shook his head.

Before I could demand more answers, he was pulling over into a side alley. I watched as he carefully parked the car before stepping out. Second later, he was coming around and opening the door.

I stared at him, gripping the hem of my blouse, tight. My stomach twisted into knots.

“Can’t you just let me go?” I whispered softly, pride forgotten in the wake of my tiredness. Jungkook stared at me, face eerily blank.

“Get out of the car.”

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

“Like it?” He asked softly and I stood on the threshold, taking in the lavishly decorated apartment on the top floor of the building. I noticed the portrait right up front, a large full sized photo of me and Jungkook from nearly a decade ago, wrapped around each other in a hug , showing off our engagement bands.

“What is this?”

“It was supposed to be your wedding gift. From me. I bought it for you. Nine years ago. Thought you should see it.” He said quietly.

I stayed perfectly still , as he wrapped his hands around me in a hug.

“Why did you leave me, Elena?” He asked quietly and I felt my throat go dry.

“Why do you still have this place? Get rid of it.” I snapped. He laughed at that , pulling away and turning me around till I stared at him.

“ Will you stay here, with me?” He asked softly and I froze.

“You’re out of your mind.” I said shortly.

He hummed.

“Possibly. But then, the problem is this. If I tell you , you can’t leave this place ever again….There’s not much you can do about it, right?” He said thoughtfully and I felt a sob building in my chest.

“I… Don’t.” I said shakily.

“You should see the bedroom. Come.”

His fingers wrapped around my wrist dragging me past the lavish couch and sofa, past a well kept bar onto a wide hallway dimly lit. He stopped at the second door on the right, reaching out to open the lock. The room was plunged in darkness and I hesitated.

“Go on… After you, Mrs. Jeon.” He said softly . I could feel distaste creeping up my spine at the name, shivering a bit as I stepped into the darkness.

“Can you imagine, if we’d gotten married. This is what our first night together would be like…” He pressed against my back, arms coming around me , so gentle that I shivered.

“Jungkook…what are you doing?” I asked shakily.

“Shush…. “ He whispered, moving to unbutton my blouse again. I grabbed his wrists quickly.

“We aren’t married. I’m not your wife.” I said sharply and I felt him go still behind me.

“Shut your mouth and play along like a good girl.” He said quietly. He shook my hands off, moving to undo the buttons again.

Not sure what he expected, I stayed perfectly still as he hummed, pressing soft feather light kisses down my jaw and past my shoulders. His hands stroked up and down my arm as he laughed .

“Did you miss me Elena…..all these years…” He said quietly. “ Because I missed you. So much.”

He hugged me close, tight and hard.

“Are you scared?” He whispered, “ honey?”

“Oh, God…” I choked out, nausea rising up in my throat at the endearment.

“My wife…” He whispered, pressing a few more kisses against my skin before pushing me a bit towards the bed. “ Should I turn on the lights? I wanna see you.”

He nudged me towards the bed and my legs gave out when I hit the edge of it, legs turning to jelly as I sat on it, shaky and creeped out and terrified. Jungkook moved to turn on the lamp on the bedside table, a soft golden glow lighting up the bed .

“Look at you… so beautiful.” He whispered and I watched as he tugged off his shirt, before moving to his belt. He was watching me like I was something precious. Like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“What are you doing?” I asked quietly and he smiled, running his fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest. He stopped at a large ornate tiger lily, inscribed right over his heart.

“Do you like it?” he said softly. “ I got this for you. My Elena…. As delicate as a lily and as brave as a tiger.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“Either fuck me or let me go, I’m not here to talk about-“

He slapped me, so hard that my head whipped to the side, my face feeling like it had caught fire. I gasped, the pain spreading all over my jaw and I couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened. I pressed shaky fingers to the throbbing skin near my mouth, eyes watering at the sting.

“Didn’t I tell you to play along, angel?” He whispered sharply and I closed my eyes , shuddering.

Play along. Do it if you want to get out of here alive. ‘

Fucking psychopath.

“ It’s beautiful, Jungkook.” I whispered softly, glancing at him with teary eyes. He nodded.

“We’ll get one for you too. A wolf. With the initials JK on it…. Right here…” He lightly traced a path over my collarbone and I hoped to God, this was some sick fantasy. That he wasn’t seriously considering tattooing his initials on me.

“Strip for me baby… All of it. I want to see you.” He whispered and I hesitated just long enough to take a deep breath. I reached back, quickly undoing my bra clasp and pulling the fabric off. I hooked my thumbs into my skirt and my panties, tugging both of them off me, swiftly. I dropped all of it on the floor next to the bed, before moving to kneel in the middle of the bed, staring at him with a smile that felt physically painful.

“I’m going to make you feel good, baby.” He whispered quietly, crawling over on top of me.

“Lay down for me.” He said, and I felt repulsed, as he kissed my lips, soft and gentle, pressing in till I was flat on my back, legs parted so he could lie in between.

It was so different from last time and somehow ten times worse.

Jungkook pressed kisses all over my face, whispering gentle words against my skin that felt like acid.

“So beautiful…. Mine. You were always mine Elena. Mine to touch and mine to break . Mine to love and mine to fuck.”

I stared as he loomed over, his face inches from mine, his gaze deceptively affectionate, his eyes warm and almost soft. I watched as he came closer, his lips closing over mine. Instinctively I kept my lips together but his fingers curled around my thigh, squeezing hard enough to make me whimper, lips parting . He pressed his tongue in then , licking into my mouth and I brought my hands up, instinctively wrapping around the bare skin of his shoulders and my body thrummed at the feeling of his muscles under my fingers.

Curiosity made me foolish, and I found myself tracing the hills and valleys of his skin, fascinated by the way the muscles flexed, every time he moved his arm.

“You like that? I worked hard on those…” He chuckled, watching me curl my fingers around his biceps. He was so… big. I moved my fingers up to the hardness of his chest, splaying my palm on his pecs and my fingers caught a hard little scar, almost perfectly round and deep.

“What is this…” I asked , curious my finger dipping into the healed skin and he hummed.

“Your father . He shot me when I was chasing his car down in Jeju Do. Foolish bastard. Thought he could outrun me.” He laughed .

I glanced at him, catching his eyes and the ebbing laughter , my heart twisting.

“Then why am I here? You hate my father. You killed my entire family. So why am I here, Jungkook?” I asked foolishly, my heart breaking a bit and he hesitated.

“Because you’re mine.” He said simply.

I closed my eyes in despair.

“If this was our wedding night…. What would you say…?” He asked suddenly.

I stared at him, confused.

“What?”

“If we got married back then… When you were eighteen. And it was our first night together….. what would you say?”

I sighed.

“I’d ask you to ….to be gentle.” I whispered.

He nodded.

“Tell me , then.”

I stared at him, feeling helpless.

“Go on, Elena.” He said again.

“Jungkook…” I began but he shook his head.

“Ggukkie.” He said softly. “ Call me GGukkie… That’s what you used to call me …when we were young.”

I clenched my fists, on his chest, resisting the urge to push him off. That wouldn’t end well for me.

“GGukkie…” I whispered, finally, glancing up at him, licking my lips and parting them gently, eyes as wide as they could go, “ you know its my first time right?”

Jungkook’s eyes fairly danced at that and he hummed, leaning closer.

“Is it, baby?” He asked, reaching up to brush my hair away, fingers gentle on my face.

Get into it. Get into it and get it over with.

“You know it is…” I pouted, “ No one else can touch me. I’m yours , aren’t I GGukkie…”

He laughed, rubbing his nose against mine.

“That you are, kitten.”

Kitten? That’s a new one.

Shut up and stay in character , fuck.

I was so fucking screwed.

“ So… will you be gentle?” I whispered , “ I don’t want it to hurt.”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around me rolling over and taking me with him till I was lying flat on top of him.

“Then how about this angel? You can ride me…. As slow and gentle as you like. Make yourself feel good on my cock, yeah….?”

I stared at him.

I’m gonna fuck you and you’re going to do all the work.

He’d played me like a fiddle.

“Well baby? Go on…. Take my pants off.”

I exhaled angrily, before moving down, to tug on his pants. He helped me take them off kicking off his boxer briefs as well.

That’s a beautiful dick. Objectively. Very pretty.

Shut the fuck up.

“ Get it wet for me baby….” He said softly. I glanced down at the hard length of it, jutting out of the small thatch of hair and felt my mouth go dry . Which would be counterproductive if I wanted to get it wet. So I swirled my tongue around my mouth, trying to get my mouth moist, before leaning down and carefully wrapping my lips around the head.

Fuck, he tastes good.

I shook my head a bit to clear the voice in my head, glancing up at him with my lips stretched around the soft pink head and he was looking right back at me, eyes heavy and dark .

“Go on baby, take more of it in, use your tongue…make me feel good.”

I closed my eyes, letting the spit coat the hard length of his cock, sinking down till the tip began to inch down my throat. I sucked lightly, running my tongues back and forth on whatever skin I could touch and it was like sucking a lollipop except the lollipop was thick enough to stretch my mouth wide and hit the back of my throat.

I felt his hand reach into my hair, gripping hard and I whimpered.

“Be gentle…” I whispered, pulling off and his eyebrows shot up , clearly in surprise . He stared at me for a second, as though considering my request and then his fingers loosened , threading through the strands soothingly.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered . I went back to sucking him off, somehow my natural tendency to work hard making me bob up and down, using my tongue and taking him as deep as I could. I felt a sick sort of satisfaction when he moaned in pleasure and for some damn reason I wanted to draw more sounds out of him.

This is a dream. Either that or you tripped over a pothole and fell into another dimension.

“ Are you wet ? Come here, so I can check….” Jungkook said softly and I pulled off moving up to straddle his hips. I flinched when he reached down, tracing my slit with carefully fingers before slipping in two. I tightened against the intrusion, still sore on the inside and he pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to my mouth.

“Suck…and get them nice and wet if you don’t want it to hurt.” He said quietly and I wrapped my lips around his fingers, letting my spit coat the slender digits.

When he pushed them back into me, the slide was easier , wetter and I gripped his shoulders, trying to relax around him. It felt foreign but also good… I felt good…

I stared down at him, the broad muscled body and the handsome face and for a crazy moment I imagine what it would have been, if I had married him. Would it have been this….this… weird pleasure that was somehow both painful and exhilarating at the same time. I bit my lips as he curled his fingers inside me, rubbing at some spot high up inside me that sent heat shooting straight up my spine, slick dripping out of me and onto the hard planes of his stomach like honey from a comb.

“Now sit on my cock.” He said quietly. I trembled, reaching down to lightly grip his cock, moving till the head lined up right against my slit or where I thought my slit was. Biting my lips, I lowered my body, feeling my body cleave to let him in, his cock pressing in and in and in.

My knees gave out and I slid down the length of him, the sudden, incredible fullness knocking the breath right out of me.

“ Fuck…baby….you alright?” He whispered and it messed with my head, the way he actually looked concerned and worried and I couldn’t take anymore of it.

“Please… Please… I just… I want to go home…” I whimpered, feeling full and stretched out, my thighs trembling and my insides wet and warm and somehow stuck between wanting more and wanting it to end.

Jungkook grunted, fingers curling over both my hips and lifting me lightly and with ease.

“Come on baby…. Ride me….” He whispered, “ Put your hands on my chest and roll your hips, up and down .”

I did as he said, one hand braced against his chest, the other gripping his shoulder as I tried to move on him but it was hopeless. I had no energy or inclination to do this and the pleasure was fast ebbing into frustration. Jungkook seemed to sense it because he growled.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking bad at this… Fine… Just lay there and let me use that stupid cunt of yours.” He snapped, gripping my waist and folding his knees just enough to brace his feet on the bed. I gasped as I got lifted a bit , his cock slipping in impossibly deeper , the tip nudging close to my cervix , the lightest brush of it send sharp jolts of electric pain pleasure up my spine.

“Oh fuck,..” I breathed as he pistoned into me, hips hitting my ass with brutal force as he fucked up into me and I could only tremble, eyes fluttering shut, fingers going numb from how hard I was gripping him.

“You’re gonna cum today… I’m gonna make you cum on my cock…” He growled, reaching down and pressing his thumb against my clit, rubbing softly, slow circles that were almost gentle compared to the brutal pounding oh his hips and I felt my mouth go slack, wetness slipping out of my tongue and dripping down my chin because of how excruciatingly good it felt, having him so deep, pressing in against the edge of my womb and I and to press my palm, right up against my belly , stunned because of how my body seemed to open and shift to make room for him.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, right inside your womb, fuck…. Gonna carry my babies for me, right sweetheart? Gonna watch you get round and full with my seed , watch you drip milk all over me with those beautiful tits….fuck…”

The shock of his words sent me over the edge, my body clenching down on him as I came, my orgasm so strong that I felt like I was cramping up on the inside and I toppled forward onto him, landing on his chest and bouncing a bit. Jungkook grunted a little, wrapping both his arms around me, holding close as he fucked me right through the aftershocks, body stilling only when I stopped shuddering and I felt warm wetness spill inside me, so deep that I knew I would have to swallow three morning after pills after this, although I was on birth control.

Because one could never be too sure with these things.

Jungkook stayed still under me and it took me a few seconds to catch my breath. I finally levered myself off of him, legs shaking as I rolled over and onto the bed before breathing in huge lungfuls of air.

“Can I go?” I choked out.

Jungkook grunted. “ Get the fuck out of here.”

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

When I stumbled out of the cab, exhausted and out of my mind with self loathing, I didn’t expect to see Hoseok sitting on the pavement outside the bakery, leaning against a streetlight, face warm but determined.

“Hobi?” I asked stunned. “ What are you-“

He cut me off with a kiss.

I stared wide eyed as he pulled me into an embrace, wrapping me in warmth and scent of his cologne, his hands impossibly gentle around me as he all but cradled me against his body, his lips moving gently against mine.

“Elena…” He breathed against my lips, eyes glinting . “ I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years. I’m so fucking sorry for being such a coward but you deserve to know… you deserve to know how I feel about you.”

I stared at him in disbelief, my heart pounding as I punched his chest in desperation.

“No… No fuck you… what are you doing…. He’ll kill you…” I hissed and he tightened his arms around me.

“I don’t care.” He hissed. “ I don’t… I can’t just… I can’t let him hurt you like this. I won’t. I’m going to tell him. I’m going to tell him to let you go or lose our friendship.” He said angrily and I trembled.

My heart raced because Hoseok was the only one I’d ever loved. In every way a girl could love a boy. He was and had always been this confusing breed of brother and friend while everyone had drooled after Jeon Jungkook , I’d always been drawn to him…drawn to his quiet strength and to the way he had always treated me as an equal…

But… but Jungkook…. Jungkook who would put a bullet in his brain without a thought if he thought that Hoseok was trying to move in on something that belonged to him…..

“Hoseok…just… Don’t. I… I love you too…” I breathed out, tired and scared and so fucking worried because what if someone was listening even now..what if word got to Jungkook and he tried to hurt ….i couldn’t even think it.

“Come find me when Jungkook is busy . When he can’t find us…” I said softly, reaching out and pressing my palm against his face.

“I’m not scared of him.” Hoseok growled and it was ridiculous.

“But I’m scared of losing you. “ I said quickly. “ We can’t… He can’t know. Ever.”

Hoseok nodded before pulling me close again.

“Was he too rough?” He whispered and I blinked, flushing. I shook my head.

“No.. I. No. I think…”

“I hate that he was the one to touch you, first. You.. You deserve to know how good it can be…. How gentle.. I want to… fuck…” He shook his head pulling away and I wrapped my arms around myself.

“We can’t…” I said quietly. “ you know we can’t.”

He glanced at me, eyes blazing and lips parted and I groaned.

“Don’t look at me like that Hobi…” I whispered, shaking my head.

“Tomorrow. He’s going to Jeju Do , to inspect a new resort. He won’t be back till the day after. Call in sick at work.” He said quietly and I bit my lips, feeling a bit like a whole idiot.

I nodded.

He reached forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

No self preservation skills at all, I thought miserably.

If Jungkook found out…….

Author’s Note : I’ll add the taglist here tomorrow

#bts smut #bts fanfics #bts fics #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook fics #bts fanfic

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hematomes · 3 years

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remember when i said i had the hottest takes of all? well that's it im gonna say it bc it keeps happening and it just makes me feel so bad im like,,, done

as a poc myself (mixed, african dad nd white mom just so yk), it really, really doesn't sit right with me when people edit light-skinned, existing poc characters' pictures to give them the most stereotypical black features. im talking big lips and nose, poorly-edited curly hair, obviously the dark skin etc.

im gonna have to develop a bit so it's kinda understandable? so here we go ig

i get the point. i get the need for representation, we are DYING to be represented and i fully enjoy seeing black characters in the medias i consume, every goddamn time. but i cannot understand how it's acceptable to erase other cultures AND gratuitously edit someone else's work in the process. im gonna take genshin as a simple example bc this is the only one that's affecting me right now, but im guessing it happens in other fandom as well

seeing characters from inazuma edited with the most stereotypical black features of all times just rubs me the wrong way. it's, in my eyes, like saying you think asians don't matter as much as blacks, because you're erasing one type of poc representation to favor another one, and that's not right. that's the opposite of right, even.

im not talking about blasians. they exist, im aware, they're gorgeous and valid and i do wish they had more representation in the mainstream media. but who's just as valid? light-skinned asians. (small edit: so are dark-skinned asians that aren't blasians, btw) i just came across an edited itto with half-assed curly hair, big-ass lips etc, like... the original picture was just edited. which is why i want to nuance it a bit; redrawing a character and headcanoning (is that even a word) them as blasian can be cool, why not, do your thing, it's nice. but just editing someone else's work to erase one representation and making it about something else entirely? yeah, no, doesn't seem right. the artists work their asses off to create beautiful designs, to represent a culture with details thrown around, every last bit of the character is carefully designed and... it's just so disrespectful to throw that shit away and replace it for clout?

i wish people would, idk, draw ocs, or even real fanart for that matter. but simply editing someone else's art is never ok in my opinion, and it always infuriates me because if someone edited xinyan with light skin (and claiming they headcanon her as a light-skinned asian) they would get crucified. in a heartbeat.

i might get crucified myself but im just sick and tired of seeing these edits so at this point im getting desperate.

and what pisses me off the most with them is that their notion of representation is picking the most stereotypical features, slap them on an already finished design and call it a day. im gonna be honest, this looks just as racist to me. reducing black people to big lips and nose, dark skin and curly hair is.. basically insulting. almost blackface, actually???? like, fr.

now, this is just my opinion, after going through these edits numerous times and thinking about it long and hard. once again, i get the point, but the execution is just so..? they're always, or almost always depicting black culture as the aforementioned features. im tired of seeing asian erasure and feeling fucking guilty over it as if it's my own fault.

#i hope it's clear enough tbh im just feeling so bad lmao

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qianinterprises · 3 years

Text

Among the Horses {Part One}

Pairing: farm boy!Jaehyun x female!Reader

Other Characters: OC's, Haechan (sorta, kinda, not really), Renjun (sorta, kinda, not really)

Genre: fluff, angst, country au, farmboys and lady's au, falling in love, slow burn, friends to lovers

Warnings: verbally abusive aunt, yelling, degrading (not the fun kind)

Word Count: 3.8k

Overall Synopsis: Being sent to live with your aunt isn't exactly something wonderful, especially because she's verbally abusive and downright determined to turn you into a "proper lady" who a wealthy man will want to marry. However, perhaps living there won't be so bad. After all, you've got a handsome farm boy teaching you to ride horses.

Part One Synopsis: Arriving at your aunts is very challenging and trying. After being put through the ringer with your attire, you finally get a chance to explore the green world, and spend more time with the farm boy who'd picked you up from the airport.

Author's Notes: So I started this a while ago and didn't really do anything with it, but I love it and I really wanna write more so yeah... Also, I've posted this on a03 as well.

Tagging: @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon @hwangful

A white, dirty pick-up truck pulled off the main road and onto a long, winding dirt road, leading them closer to a grand house that you had only been to a few times in your life. The place you’d be living for the next year or two.

The truck bumped along the loose gravel, crashing over potholes, sending you bouncing on the very worn cloth of the cab, your eyes glancing worriedly to the male beside you, one of his hands planted firmly on the hard steering wheel, the other loosely placed on the stick shifter in the center of the bench.

“Are you sure the tires won’t… fall off?” your voice was thick and laiden with worry.

He glanced over at you, warm brown eyes gazing intently into yours, the opticals flecked with curiosity and amusement. Embarrassment crept under your skin.

“You haven’t been out here in awhile? Have you miss?” he asked, tone filled with friendly amusement.

You awkwardly scratched at your nose, a bit of a nervous habit she’d picked up over the years.

“No. My parents never had the money to travel.”

Your voice was small, etched in nervousness and anxiety.

He cast you a gentle smile as he pulled the truck around a sharp curve in the road, and there it was.

The house was huge, at least three stories high and stretched across the land it was perched upon. The foundation red brick that looked freshly cleaned (it probably had been), a contrast to the pearly white of the rest of the structure. The curves and contours of the slightly oddly shaped house made it more enchanting and nerve-wracking, especially as you grew closer, tires hitting the smooth cement before your driver moved the shifter and parked the truck.

“Head on in, miss, I’ll get your bags.”

His accent was a combination of Asian mixed with southern, an odd mix that somehow seemed so delicately smooth and perfect, especially the way he drawled over the “r’s”

“Miss?”

You’d been stuck in your thoughts, eyes wide as you surveyed the prospects of your new home.

“Right, yes, thank you,” you said softly, moving to get out, the door creaking as it was opened.

Your black, falling apart sneakers hit the tan pavement of the driveway, the hooks of your overalls rattling loosely against your torso as they accommodated your movements; the loose denim legs falling just above your knees as you pushed the dingy door closed.

The male you’d ridden with, Jaehyun, he said his name was, pulled the latch of the truck bed and reached up to grab your mismatched luggage, his sturdy frame pressing into the hot metal of the truck.

“Do you need some help?”

Your voice was small, mixed with worry and hesitation.

You’d do just about anything to prolong the inevitable.

“That’s quite alright, miss,” he began. “You should head on inside. The heat is a harsh place for a lady,” he answered.

You looked down, playing with your fingers, but you didn’t reply. Instead, slowly moving toward the brick steps that would lead to the entrance of the beautiful home.

Anina Lee was a strict lady. She liked things just a certain way and she got them how she wanted. She didn’t tolerate bad behavior or disobedience. And she had a strong dislike for people that got in her way. Thus, she had never been married.

She lived alone, if you count having two live-in maids, a chef, and a stable hand that slept in the barn as living alone.

Alina was your aunt. Your mother’s elder sister who had alienated your mother when she’d married a man of lower class. That same man later had a wife who blessed him with three kids to care for, spending his days fixing the cars of those more fortunate than him, hoping to make a buck for his family.

That’s why you were here. A young girl, coming of age to be married off and starting a family of your very own. Your family couldn’t support you any longer, and as you prepared to move away in hopes of finding some sort of job or a life, your aunt had hastlessly offered to take you in. Your mother had all too happily obliged, hoping her only and eldest daughter would learn a thing or two from the elder woman, maybe turn you into the lady your mother and father had tried for years to make you.

The stainless white door slowly opened and an older woman stood in the frame. She was clearly in her 50s, stress lines drawn thickly in her forehead, wrinkles in the corners of her dull gray eyes, deep lines around her nose and mouth, her neck sagging just a little beneath her sharp jaw. She was a small lady. On first glance one may have a hard time understanding what makes her so fierce. She was small in stature, small in size and in frame, but she had the tongue of a snake, the heart of a lioness, and the skill of a chimp.

“(Y/N)! You’re finally here!”

You stood a good few inches taller than the woman, but that made you more nervous if anything. You made her way up the steps and, as you reached the woman in the door, you were promptly pulled into a proper hug that severely lacked warmth.

“I can’t believe you got on a plane and sat amongst all those people in that ghastly attire. You must change at once!”

The woman’s voice was so shrill it could pierce glass, but you held back the flinch.

“Martha!” the same voice called into the house as she pulled you in, shutting the door and encompassing them in the cool air conditioning.

A larger lady appeared, dressed in stained blue jeans and an ugly yellow shirt.

“Please show my niece to her room and help her change into something more… feminine and lady-like,” her aunt’s voice commanded.

“When you’re finished dear, have Martha show you to my study.”

There was no endearing term in the word “dear.” Simply an icy addition to a perfectly manicured sentence.

You watched your aunts receding form, pencil skirt tight on her legs, black heels sharply hitting the hardwood intimidatingly.

“Come with me, dear. Let’s get you changed,” the larger lady spoke softly.

She was older, maybe 60 or so, her skin dark tan, although you couldn’t tell if it was the sun or her natural skin pigmentation. Her voice was grainy, but soft and endearing. Motherly she’d dare say. And you thought that this woman may actually make living here bearable.

You followed the lady up the grand staircase, up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway until you reached the end. The lady pushed open the thick white door and stepped inside, you following her closely.

Inside, the room was surprisingly rustic. A simple, full-sized bed with an obviously homemade comforter thrown across it. A light gray plush rug beside the bed. The hardwood floors were surprisingly and delightfully bare. One large section of the wall was home to a large bay window that stretched from the ceiling to the plush gray cushion of the bench. There were a few flower paintings and other pointless nicknacks scattered on obsolete surfaces around the room, but you paid no mind to them as your attention was drawn to the lady opening the large mahogany grand dresser and plucking out two cloths.

She unfolded both neatly, placing them on the bed and you sighed. The skirt was long and pleated, patterns of red and white stretched in an annoying kaleidoscope arrangement across the nearly pointless garment and the white shirt appeared to be partly transparent.

“Go ahead and get changed dear, I’ll help you when you finish,” she said kindly and turned her back.

You waited for her to leave the room but it was apparent she had no intention to. Awkwardly, you began unhooking the straps of your overalls, letting the fabric clang to the floor. Your skin heated up, feeling all too exposed before sliding into the skirt, the itchy elastic clinging to your hips uncomfortably. You pulled your stained blue t-shirt off, swapping it for the crisp white one that you feared you’d stain in the next few moments.

The lady turned around, her wide hips bumping into the dresser slightly. The dresser was sturdy enough not to jostle, but it was obvious the corner was sharp and painful. You almost felt bad at the way the lady’s face winced, but it was quickly pushed away as calloused hands began gripping the delicate skin of your arms, squeezing along the skin up your arms.

She tsked and turned around, rummaging through the dresser once again, only to turn around with a black, light cardigan.

You gawked. Why on earth would you wear that atrocious thing in this weather? It was the middle of August! Not December!

“I know. But if your aunt were to see your arms, she’d have a fit. She probably still will,” she said.

You sighed. Your aunt hadn’t changed one bit. Your skin was fragile. The tops of your forearms lightly tanned, a pigment passed on from your father. The rest of your arms and body entirely was light. Lady’s should be gorgeously sunkissed to be beautiful and to be taken seriously.

With a huff, you put on the long black sleeves, the intricately designed cotton draping over your shoulders perfectly. But that didn’t mean it was any more comfortable. You could already feel the added heat seeping onto your skin. You’d be sweaty and uncomfortable soon.

“Now let’s do something about your feet.”

You looked down; your worn socks had holes all through them, mud permanently stained to the sweaty fabric.

Bustling from the room, you were left stunned in the wake of the surprisingly fast woman, watching her round the corner and disappear down the hall to fetch something to apparently “fix your feet.”

You thought you’d do something to speed along the process. The more time spent getting you dressed in these ridiculous clothes, the less time you had to explore the outside world. You made your way to the bay window, taking a seat on the plush cushion that accommodated you nicely. You pressed your back against the edge of the wall and turned your gaze to the picturesque green world filled with surprisingly lush looking grass, dips and hills along the valley, and the tops of trees further off in the distance. All this land was yours for the roaming. You couldn’t wait to get out those doors and go exploring.

The sound of water sloshing in a pot brought your attention back from the window, glancing curiously as the large lady placed the pot down in front of the window.

“Put your feet in.”

You didn’t argue. You were hesitant, but thought better than to argue and have your aunt boil you alive in this pot.

As soon as your dingy, dirty, mud pasted feet hit the water, you hissed. The temperature felt that it could boil the skin right off.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s hot, but your aunt is expecting you down soon and I have to do this as quickly as possible,” the lady said.

Grabbing your left foot, she picked the appendage up from the water along with a suds coated dish sponge and began mercilessly scrubbing away at the tender flesh. You whined and howled, tears pricking to your eyes as your skin was scrubbed and abused by the harsh bristles of the brush. You attempted to yank your foot away, but the tight grip on your ankle prevented much movement. You were stuck suffering as the skin became reddened from the irritation.

As soon as the painful experience came to a close, your now pink feet were dried with a towel before being slid into a pair of eccentrically beaded, golden strapped sandals that accentuated the rest of the over-the-top outfit nicely.

“You seem presentable enough now, although I’m sure the mistress of the house would have a few unkind things to say about your wild mane.”

You tried not to take offense. You liked your hair. It was an untamed mop that curved wildly carefree, blowing in the breeze that picked up the thick tufts.

“Thank you for your help ma’am.”

She bowed at the waist, a kind smile on her lips.

“No need for the ma’am dear. Call me Martha, or Mrs. Rivera if you must.”

And with no more haste, Martha Rivera led you back down the grand staircase to the bottom floor, the tight flats biting at your heels and ankles with every step you took, fighting off the winces that followed. You rounded a few sharp corners, venturing into a large sitting room with an extravagant flat screen high on the wall and couches that looked brand new. Through a dining room, table decorated with a sequined bronze cloth and the finest China you’d ever seen, although that wasn’t really a stretch. Finally, they made it to a large oak door, cracked just enough that you could see your aunt’s silhouette sitting behind an elegant red desk, glasses perched on her nose, pen in hand, eyes married to the computer screen. Mrs. Rivera left you by the door, and you almost spun on your heel and walked away. But of course, that would be too easy.

“Come in child. Stop standing in the doorway.”

Your blood froze in your veins. You pushed the door open and stolled in, tripping over the lion skin rug, stumbling a bit before catching your balance. Harsh wisps of breath rushed past your aunt's lips and the chair creaked as the weight lifted from it.

You straightened your back, staring fearfully into the cold gray eyes that trailed over your face and down your clothes.

The woman began moving slowly around you, manicured nails and boney fingers tracing over the outline of your clothes and jaw, running through your wild mane and down your hands, inspecting the bitten off nails. As she walked, she muttered things like “hair won’t do” and “horrible posture” before she stood back in front of you.

“You simply won’t do,” she said sternly.

The words hit hard. You may have been expecting something like this, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less.

“You look like you’ve been sleeping with the horses. Your nails are pitiful. Your skin is far too light.”

She gripped your jaw, tilting your head up harshly to expose your still slightly chubby neck.

“Can you ride a horse?”

The question was sudden and it caught you off guard, but you answered as quickly as your brain would allow.

“N-no. I’ve never ridden before.”

The woman sighed loudly, hot puffs of air pouring out of her flared nostrils.

“That’ll have to change. Starting tomorrow, you will be taking riding lessons from the stable boy. Every lady should have the basic skills of riding,” her tone was cold and brisk as she looked away and perched back at her desk.

“You’re dismissed. Dinner is at 6. Don’t be late. You may roam the grounds.”

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed her niece and immediately went back to work, not bating another eyelash as you fled hastlessly from the room, your eyes welling with tears as stress and fear washed over you, although more relieved that it was over and you could finally do something for yourself. You’d start by ditching these God forsaken shoes.

You made your way around the back door of the house, more by pure necessity than memory, simply logically thinking the best way around in the expansive flooring. When you made it, a smile broke across your face as you unfastened the painful shoes, kicking them off in a sloppy jumble by the door before opening the heavy door, the heat of the afternoon hitting your face, not that you minded.

As you stepped out, bare feeting meeting hot cement, you stripped the cardigan from your shoulders, draping it over a random, sun baked chair. You tore off through the grass, laughing giddily, breeze blowing wisps of your hair, skirt fluttering delicately over your skin. It would be difficult to do anything in the blasted thing, but you wouldn’t give yourself enough time to strip down into something better, opting to enjoy the last of the day while you could. And you’d start in the bright red barn your eyes immediately fell on.

Making your way through the soft grass that squished under the weight of your feet, you strolled into the half open barn, the soft snorts of animals bringing a smile to your lips. Just because you couldn’t ride, doesn’t mean you didn’t love the animals. You loved horses especially. They were such beautiful and majestic creatures. You’d always wanted a horse, but your family had never been able to afford one. You’d always wanted to ride, and now you could, although you didn’t understand why it was so important to your aunt.

The cool concrete felt rough beneath your feet, stray straws of hay littering the floor. It could have been a picture straight out of one of the Country Living magazines you’d kept hidden away at your parents home.

The first horse you came upon was a tall brown animal, head hung over the stall door, ears perked to attention, eyes trained on the new invader inside the barnhouse. He snorted at you and his hoof hit the barn door lightly in an attempt at getting closer. You stepped closer, slowly offering your hand out, letting the animal sniff searchingly.

“He’s looking for some sugar cubes.”

The voice came out of nowhere, interrupting your serenity, a yelp leaving your lips as your whole body jolted in the sudden fright.

You turned your head to the barn door where your driver was standing, taunt arms crossed over a broad chest, veiled from prying eyes by a lightweight flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His long legs were clad in dusty denim, mud and hay from his knees to the tops of the worn work boots.

“I’m sorry. I just like horses-”

“And you thought you’d come visit them?” he finished your sentence.

You immediately began shuffling your feet, eyes turning back to study the fading paint on the stall to keep from facing him.

Heavy footsteps hit the floor as the male moved closer until he was close enough to touch. His large, rough hand gripped your wrist lightly, bringing it up toward him. You let out a little yelp, riddled with confusion and curiosity until three small blocks were placed in your palm.

“Hold your palm out to him and don’t jerk away,” he spoke calmly, slowly urging you.

You nodded, having some sort of unkempt trust in his words as you turned back to the animal and extended your arm, palm flat, cubed sugar offered to the horse, who greedily munched them right out of your hands.

“His name’s Haechan. He’s a bit of a character.”

You nodded, drawing your now horse-slobbered hand away, opting to stroke the animal's fur from his nose to between his eyes.

“That’s an interesting name,” you said.

He hummed behind you and you heard his boots hitting the concrete as he moved away.

“Do you like animals?” he asked.

You spun around, eyes wide and shining.

“Yes! I love them! Sometimes I prefer animals over humans!”

His smile was gentle as he surveyed your physique, a dusty pink tinting his cheeks, although you thought nothing of it.

“Come on, I want to show you something,”he said, walking past you to the opposite exit of the barn.

You followed close behind, curious as to where he was taking her. Your feet fell back onto the grass, the long blades sliding between your toes as you followed in his wake. As they walked, a white picket fence came into view, not far from the barn, but oddly well hidden beneath the crest of a hill rolling through the land. Once you reached the fence, his hands curled around the boards, hoisting himself up, foot balanced on the bottom board as he climbed up, throwing a leg over one side, then the other, and jumping down. You stared at him in awestruck confusion.

“Climb over, I’ll catch you on this side.”

You didn’t know why you blindly trusted him. You didn’t know him from a random stranger in the town, but you complied, placing your foot onto the same board he had, pulling yourself up and swinging a leg over, then another. The skirt snagged in the boards a few times, one of your feet nearly slipping off the boards as you attempted to keep it pushed down. This proved to be more of a challenge as you balanced on your heels, hands clutching the top piece of wood as you contemplated how to get down now. That is, until his arms outstretched, slightly bent at the elbow, fingers parted, palms facing one another, and you knew what he wanted you to do. Taking a deep breath, you pushed off with your left foot, hands releasing your grip on the fence, letting yourself drop, eyes squeezing in slight fear that you’d soon flop hard against the green earth. But when strong hands caught your waist, arms drawing you in, broad chest breaking your fall, you braced herself against him, feet carefully being lowered until they pressed back into the earth.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”

His teasing tone had you pulling away, glaring playfully at him before turning and pretending to walk away, leaving him in your path.

At least, until you heard a rustling in the long grass inside the fence.

You squeaked as it grew closer taking a step back as your harsh gaze followed the rustling of the grass, positive a snake would wrap itself around your leg as it dug its venomous fangs into your soft flesh.

Needless to say, you were in for quite a shock when the small head of a brown and white calf popped up from the grass.

And you were sinking to your knees.

The calf moved toward your lowered body, sniffing at your arms until you reached out to run a hand down it’s small head and back, cooing quietly, eyes brimming with unfiltered delight as you wrapped your arms around the baby, stroking the fur of its back lovingly.

“This is Renjun. He’s my little cousin's calf.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to. Your cooes of joy were enough to show every emotion you were currently feeling.

Horrible aunt or not. You could certainly find worse places to be trapped. At least here you had rolling hills of green, beautiful animals to fawn over, and Jaehyun, handsome stableboy who you couldn’t wait to get to know.

#ficscafe #klibrary #kdinernet #supermwritersnet #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #farm au #farm living #horses #cows #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you #original character #friends to lovers #slow burn #series #nct series #jaehyun series

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wallgirl · 3 years

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The Little Nereid Part 12

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 2,200

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful. Loving someone like Poseidon is not easy period, let alone as your first love. But Dynamene is young and naïve, and all she wants is a chance to be at the sea god’s side.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.

Updated regularly; will have about 18 parts total.

—

It was still dark out when Dynamene arrived at the temple. Dawn was just breaking over the horizon, the ocean calm. Still soaking wet from head to toe, she left puddles of water with each trudge up the sizable hill where the temple overlooked the sea. She had never been to a human temple before. It was less grand than she had imagined, though still tall and stately. It was impressive as far as human architecture went, she supposed.

She entered hesitantly, feeling almost embarrassed to be tracking water into a sacred, if humble, place. In the room at the center of the temple stood Aphrodite's cult image. It was roughly life-sized and hewn from wood, with a delicate cloth draping it modestly. Dynamene suppressed a smile when she saw it; it was much less curvaceous and delicate looking than the real goddess. She approached it gingerly, not sure what to do next.

Most humans that came to temples to ask something of the gods brought an offering, she knew, but she hadn't the faintest idea what to present. She was entirely empty-handed, save for the thin chiton she wore and her treasured bracelet, neither of which she was about to part with.

After a few minutes of pondering, the answer came to her - Aphrodite was the goddess of beauty, too, not just love. Dynamene's hands went to her two braids. Would she accept her hair as an offering...? Surely there was little more a woman could give in way of sacrificing her beauty.

She picked up a sharp seashell from the altar and aligned it with the base of the first braid, against her neck, and took a deep breath. Her hair had been long her whole life, but it would grow back, right?

Before she could even make the first cut, there was a deafening clap, and she was surrounded by white light.

When the light cleared, she was no longer standing in the dim inner room of the temple. A strange burning sensation lingered on her skin before quickly subsiding. Dynamene hesitantly lifted her head.

She was in a vast room with golden floors and roses of every color climbing the frescoed walls. A giant fountain, several times her height, stood ahead to her right. It bubbled and gurgled merrily, the white foam so bright that she could hardly look at it. A handful of small cherubs tended to bunches of pristine lilies that floated serenely in the bottom pool. And to her left, reclining on a golden couch inlaid with diamonds and pearls, was a statuesque woman with golden waves and wide eyes.

"My, you weren't really going to cut your hair, were you?" Aphrodite cried, staring at Dynamene with alarm. "I may be the goddess of love as well as beauty, but I'll let you in on a secret - no woman should sacrifice her looks for a man."

Dynamene immediately turned red. "I... I apologize." She tucked the shell away awkwardly into the fold of her chiton. "Um, where am I?"

"You're at my palace, on Mount Olympus," Aphrodite proclaimed. She smiled at Dynamene and tilted her head. "I've been waiting so long to speak with you. Come, sit!"

Mount Olympus?! Dynamene had been here before on a few occasions to accompany Poseidon as part of his court, but only to the common grounds. Each of the twelve Olympians had their own estate and palace that they designed and furnished to their liking, most filled with opulence and treasure that lesser beings could barely dream of. To think that she should now find herself in one was incredible.

Aphrodite snapped her fingers. A couch that matched her own appeared next to Dynamene, as well as a table with cups and a jug of some mysterious liquid. "You must be famished. You've had quite the journey; sit, sit!"

How could she know that? Dynamene settled nervously onto the couch and smoothed the bottom of her dress. She was all too aware of how bedraggled she must look, especially in such an exquisite place. The upholstery became dotted with dark spots of water from her damp hair.

Aphrodite snapped her fingers, and Dynamene's clothes and hair dried in an instant. "There we are. More comfortable?"

"Um, yes, thank you." Dynamene touched the bottom of her braid in amazement. The jug on the table before her poured itself into her cup, and she brought it to her mouth with both hands. Something incredibly sweet and steaming hot flowed into her lips.

"That's nectar. Careful you don't drink too much, it'll cause indigestion. Now then, you've called upon me for help," Aphrodite beamed and moved upright, crossing her legs. "I'm overjoyed, to say the least." She rested her chin elegantly on the thumb and pointer finger of one hand.

"You are?" Dynamene felt completely lost.

"Yes! I've been following your adventure ever since things began to really heat up a few weeks ago. Your birthday, to be precise. How exciting! I haven't seen a love story this gripping in centuries."

Dynamene almost dropped her cup. "Following me?! Do you mean you've seen everything that's happened since then?"

"Well, the juicy bits, yes. As the goddess of love, I can tune in on any love affair or infatuation I desire. Most are a bit boring, nowadays. But you... Your feelings for Poseidon... It's such a delight! What a turn of events! I'm quite invested." Aphrodite giggled.

Dynamene's face continued to burn red. "I... I don't understand."

Aphrodite sighed and leaned back once more. "Ah, Poseidon... such an enigma. Such a tall, dark, and handsome man... Such an incredible body... But such a wretched personality."

Dynamene flinched.

"He really is a delight to look at, though, isn't he?" Aphrodite sighed, her gaze turning dreamy. "There was a time when I thought I might add him to my body count... But his stifling demeanor quickly dispersed that idea from my head. Such a foul attitude."

Dynamene felt a different kind of heat rise up from her neck to her ears, and her gaze narrowed before she could hide her feelings. Aphrodite laughed in response.

"Oh, don't worry! I'd never touch him now; such a cold fish. Not the type to be a considerate lover, at any rate. An ice statue of a man," she scoffed. Her gaze moved back to Dynamene with curiosity. "But you love him anyway!" Aphrodite leaned forward once more, her eyes wide.

Dynamene stared at her lap, completely overwhelmed. "I... I do." Her voice sounded so small, even to herself.

"Tell me about it! How did it happen? What was it that made you fall for him? I want to know everything!"

"Um..." Dynamene swallowed hard. She could see him clearly in her mind's eye; that piercing gaze and chiseled body. She remembered the way his body had shadowed hers in the dark on the beach. What was it...

Aphrodite smirked, as if she knew exactly what Dynamene was thinking. "Yes, handsome, that much is a give-in. But what else? There has to be something drawing you to him."

"Well..." Dynamene racked her brain. "He's incredibly powerful, and smart. He knows his realm so well..."

"That's a start, I suppose," Aphrodite clicked her tongue. "But men like that are a dime-a-dozen. And that won't keep you warm at night."

"What?" Although Dynamene had no idea what she was getting at, she had the feeling it was something rather uncouth.

"Oh, I apologize. You're a virgin, right? You're inexperienced in these matters." Aphrodite took a dainty sip from her own cup. "Those qualities are all nice and fine, but there's nothing romantic or passionate about them. Not things that really light the flame of love, as it were."

Dynamene was silent for a moment, staring at her hands. She thought of the way he'd spoken with her on the beach, and the way he'd gone out of his way to show her the wonderful things he saw underwater. "He shared his power with me... He used it to show me all the things he could sense in the ocean. It was amazing, and so nice. He held my hand... and I didn't want him to let go."

"So that's it!" Aphrodite said triumphantly. "He made you feel special. He gave you a glimpse of something he's never shown anyone else."

Dynamene smiled wistfully. "And then, he promised me another bracelet... He's never given me anything besides on my birthday. It must mean something. He's never done that for anyone before."

"The frigid tyrant is finally thawing," Aphrodite pondered, swishing her cup. "Maybe he won't spend eternity a virgin, after all," she snickered.

Wait... Does she mean me and him...? Dynamene hid her face in her hands. Oh, no. This is too much. What am I doing here?!

"So he is getting sweet on you, then." Aphrodite threw her head back in laughter. "Oh, I can't believe it; that a day like this would come! It's too much."

"Well... not sweet, exactly, but..." Dynamene rubbed her arm.

"Not sweet?" Aphrodite rose one eyebrow. "He didn't kill you when he had the opportunity. That's quite the gesture of fondness for him, really."

Dynamene blinked, struck speechless.

"Now, then," Aphrodite continued, her voice taking on a more business-like tone. "As far as directly helping you, there's little I can offer. Poseidon would have my head if he ever found out I was interfering in his love life, and that wouldn't do." She sighed rather theatrically.

"Oh." Dynamene's shoulders sank. Then it was all for nothing.

"But..." Aphrodite continued with a mischievous smile. "That doesn't mean I can't point you in the direction of someone who can help you. I've heard through the grapevine that there's a witch not far from Poseidon's estate who does spell work for those who are willing to pay the price. She lives in one of the deepest undersea trenches. I'm sure she'd be happy to strike a deal with you."

"A witch?" Dynamene had misgivings about this immediately. Witches didn't exactly enjoy the highest of praises within the Greek pantheon's society. "Aren't a lot of them shady?"

"They are. But you're clever enough, and there's no guarantee that this witch will be as seedy as the rest. Just keep your wits about you. All you need is something to convince him to make a commitment to you. I understand Hera gave you a blessing during her latest visit."

Dynamene remembered the gilded pomegranate. "She did."

"Something about a guaranteed happy union, correct? She told me about it. There's your ticket to a happy ending; you just need to secure the union in the first place."

Dynamene smiled. "You're right. It was very kind of Hera to give me a blessing. I was so surprised."

"She didn't do it out of the kindness of her heart," Aphrodite sighed, giving her curls a shake.

Dynamene's smile froze. "What do you mean?"

"Hmm..." Aphrodite puffed her cheeks, weighing her next words. "I'll let you in on a little insider's secret: she wants Poseidon married to force a crack in his armor."

Dynamene stared at her. "Pardon? His armor?"

"If Poseidon gets married and has a family, he'll have a weak spot. Hera knows that Poseidon is feared more than Zeus, and she loathes the possibility of him holding more influence. She wants to have a way to keep Poseidon in line. That's why she gave you that pomegranate." Aphrodite shook her head, wrapping a curl of hair idly about one finger.

Dynamene's head was spinning as she tried to put two and two together. "But... the blessing would be useless to her purpose unless she knew that one of us liked the other. So how...?"

Aphrodite giggled mischievously and gave Dynamene a wink. "I guess I'm not always the best secret keeper myself."

Dynamene stared at her, aghast. Hera would use me as a tool to get to Poseidon? Her eyes darted back and forth anxiously. I'm so stupid. Of course she wouldn't give a random blessing like that out of kindness; that's not how the Olympians usually function.

"Don't fret too much, dear Dynamene." Aphrodite's eyes darkened above her smile. "It doesn't really matter what the future after your union holds; not how miserable of a man Poseidon is, or what your relationship turns out to be. If you marry him while holding that blessing, you'll be happy no matter what your situation is."

Dynamene's gaze searched the goddess's face. Why did it seem like Aphrodite's expression was almost one of pity?

Happy... even if I shouldn't be?

"Rest assured, I am rooting for you, little Nereid. Now go; I'll send you near the witch's home. Or, at least where I think it is." The goddess of beauty shrugged her delicate shoulders.

White light enveloped Dynamene once more, and she braced herself. Before Aphrodite's palace disappeared, she heard the goddess call out one last time: "In exchange, I expect to be the first to know about your wedding night!"

---

Author’s notes:

Did you know, when I started this fanfiction, I planned it to be 4 parts and about 9000 words?

I am now past 32000. Help me.

Things are coming to a head, stay tuned.

#record of ragnarok #poseidon #poseidon x oc #shuumatsu no valkyrie #Aphrodite #fanfiction

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adventuresindolls · 3 years

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May Photo Challenge!!

Our next photo challenge, #Daisies and Daffodolls, will begin on May 1st! It’s a creative, for fun, non-competitive daily challenge for you to share pictures of your doll(s). There will be a new prompt each day, listed below to give you a month to prepare, and you can participate in as many or as few days as you’re interested in. There is no judgement whatsoever, so please share regardless of how complex your props are, and don’t worry about posting a prompt late.

First of all, thank you so much to @desertdollranch for helping with the prompts, especially those surrounding AG birthdays and holidays, and for getting this whole photo challenge thing started back in September! And a huge thank you to @lesbianelizabethcole for designing all 5 banners!

The ground rules are the same as in October and December, but I’ll reiterate them for anyone that might be new. Tag all of your prompt posts with #daisies and daffodolls - all three words, complete with spaces. This will allow us to better find and share each other’s posts. You can organize your own posts however you want, but I recommend including the day’s prompt somewhere for context. Also feel free to post on other social medias if you want.

This is not a competition, and there are no prizes, but it should be a lot of fun. Feel free to use any size and brand of doll that you have! American Girl is very popular on doll tumblr, but all other types are welcome as well, including both established (historical or modern) characters and OCs. This could range from 18-inch dolls to Barbies to handmade dolls or porcelain dolls or even paper dolls.

I’ll reblog this post weekly until the beginning of May, and then begin each week of May with the prompt list for that week. Please find a list of all prompts below the cut.

5/1: The first day of each photo challenge is traditionally for seasonal fashion. Does your doll have a favorite spring outfit? Is it cool and light, or are they still bundled in a sweater for the chilly mornings?

5/2: Spring is all about new beginnings. Is your doll learning a new skill or trying a new activity this spring? Or maybe they just met a new person who became important in their life?

5/3: Today is National Textiles Day. Kirsten’s friends gave her a quilt they made after she missed school to help her family. Does your doll have any clothes or other items that are handmade? If not, do they make any textile items themselves? This could be something sewn, knitted, crocheted, or quilted.

5/4: May the 4th be with you! Does your doll like Star Wars? Who is their favorite character? What about other stories? Pick a hero from any movie, show, or book that your doll loves and have them act out a scene as that character.

5/5: Friends are forever. Who are your doll’s closest friends and what do they do together? Maybe they like to play board games or go to the mall or play pretend. Or maybe your doll is planning something special for their friend.

5/6: As the weather gets warmer, it’s the perfect time to head outside. Does your doll play sports, or do they prefer casual games with their friends? Maybe they like picnics or quiet hikes through the woods.

5/7: Happy birthday, Maryellen! Maryellen often feels overlooked in her large family, and she works hard to stand out and show her unique personality. What makes your doll special and unique?

5/8: It’s career day! What does your doll want to do when they grow up? Show them dressed up for and/or acting out their dream job.

5/9: Happy Mother’s Day! Addy and her mother escaped to freedom together, Caroline’s mother ran a shipyard, and Kirsten’s mother encouraged her not to lose heart. Does your doll have a special bond with their mother? How do they celebrate Mother’s Day? If they don’t have a mother or don’t have a good relationship with her, consider today a free space to show us something you really want to but that isn’t included in these prompts.

5/10: Bugs are everywhere! We might avoid some of them, but others are welcomed. Lightning bugs, ladybugs, bumble bees, and dragonflies are a few happy spring bugs. Show your doll doing something bug-themed. They might take a net out to catch bugs or draw a picture of a bug or hold a ladybug they found. Be creative!

5/11: Parties are always fun! Is your doll going to any birthday parties or sleepovers this spring? Maybe they’re attending a wedding or some other celebration? What are their favorite party activities?

5/12: Spring weather can be a relief after the cold and darkness of winter. What is the weather like where your doll is? Foggy? Rainy? Bright and sunny? Show your doll interacting with their local spring weather.

5/13: Everyone needs mentors and heroes. Who does your doll look up to? What have they learned from them or how do they honor them?

5/14: It’s the last day of the school year. What’s your doll’s favorite extracurricular activity or aspect of school that they’ll miss until next fall?

5/15: Happy birthday, Luciana! Luciana loves learning about space and wants to be an astronaut and go to Mars one day. Getting to space involves studying many different things, particularly various fields of science. Show your doll doing something related to space or science.

5/16: Today is National Do Something Nice for your Neighbor Day. What does your doll do that helps others or makes the world a better place?

5/17: Let’s try something different today! If your (OC or non-AG) doll had their own American Girl-style book series, what would be the central theme? What sort of things would happen to them? Show us at least one scene from this hypothetical series.

5/18: Beaches and swimming are iconic activities as the weather gets warmer and people have more free time. Rebecca and her family went to Coney Island for a picnic. Does your doll enjoy picnics, sunbathing, or sandcastles on the beach? Maybe they like to swim for exercise or hang out at the pool with friends? (I do not recommend putting your doll in a public chlorine pool)

5/19: Happy Birthday, Kit! Growing up seeing the effects of the Great Depression on people around her, Kit is determined to report on important things happening to real people. How does your doll relate to current events? Are they involved in activism or spreading awareness? Is there an important social issue that affects them personally or that they feel is very important? Or is there something good happening in the world that they like to think about?

5/20: Spring is a great time for tea parties. What’s in your doll’s teacup? Maybe they’re drinking a fancy tea, or maybe they prefer a refreshing glass of juice.

5/21: Spring is full of baby animals. Show your doll interacting with some sort of baby animal. (Safely! Please don’t grab a real squirrel or bunny!)

5/22: In December we celebrated Pretend to be a Time Traveler Day. I’d like to reprise that, but with a twist: this time, we’re headed into the future! The amount of time and what your doll finds in the future is completely up to you. What do they do while there?

5/23: Cakes and pies and ice cream, oh my! What is your doll’s favorite dessert?

5/24: There may be fewer holidays in spring than in December, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to celebrate! Does your doll celebrate Passover or Easter? Or maybe they prefer a more obscure spring holiday to liven things up? Show them participating in whatever celebration you like.

5/25: Yellow is the color of flowers and sunny days and ducklings. Show your doll wearing or using something yellow.

5/26: Happy birthday, Samantha! After her birthday party, Samantha hears Aunt Cornelia speak at a suffragette meeting in New York City. What is a cause that is important to your doll? Show them with a sign supporting or protesting something close to their heart. As an added challenge, use a cause unrelated to the current events prompt.

5/27: It’s summer vacation! What are some of your doll’s favorite activities now that they’re free from school? Alternatively, what are some of their favorite hobbies to do anytime?

5/28: Happy birthday, Cecile! For her birthday, Cecile’s brother Armand gave her a beautiful porcelain doll that looked like her. Does your doll have a favorite doll or toy?

5/29: Late spring and early summer is a great time to go on a road trip or vacation. Where is your doll traveling to, and what are they doing there? Or maybe their family chose a staycation this year - what new fun new things are they discovering close to home?

5/30: Today is National Water a Flower Day. Show your doll interacting with flowers or other plants.

5/31: What is your doll planning for this fall? What are they looking forward to when school starts again? Is a big change approaching as the seasons and leaves turn? What does the future hold for them?

#Daisies and Daffodolls #American Girl Dolls #Our Generation #dollblr

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yuzukult · 3 years

Text

i’m bad too 06 (m) || kdy & reader

title: i’m bad too - drabble series pairing: kim doyoung x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, goodboy!doyoung, nerdy!dy (basically he’s a dork) & badgirl!reader, hitman!au, oc-isn’t-a-hitman-but-she-could-be!au, there’s just a lot of unspoken things happening here lol word count: 1.7k warnings: blowjob/handjob (lucky doyoung), sexual usage of ‘oppa’ lol don’t judge a/n: still tryna learn the correct jargon for warnings but this is a drabble so.... very minimal stuff here lmfao

please let me know if anyone wants to be tagged! taglist: @wownajaemin @crescent-iak @ncttboo @byunbaekby ← previous chapter || next chapter →

Doyoung makes you watch an obscene amount of superhero movies. For clarification: Marvel-Cinematic-Universe-kind-of-movies. However, you barely complain. If it means more time with him, you’d even watch Sesame Street just to be in his arms.

He doesn’t like to watch those movies where there’s a way deeper message hidden behind the plot. He lives for the action, sprinkle of comedy, and occasional love interest. But not a ton. Too much romance might set unrealistic expectations, according to him.

Albeit you sort of think he still has a vastly different depiction of love in comparison to you.

For one, in this alternate universe where there’s villains and superheroes, you, without a doubt, are a villain. You’ve tried explaining to him that you fit the stereotype—the whole leather attire plus motorcycle really takes the cake, but he doesn’t even know what you’re up to half the time. In fact, almost every single event you’ve performed a task, you’d show up at his front doorstep, hands remaining dirty from a mission for the Boss, and he’d welcome you with open arms with no idea.

Doyoung doesn’t even have an ounce of a clue what you do.

He’s such a nice guy. Girls practically eat that shit up when they meet him, often overlooking the fact that he holds so many great boyfriend qualities. When you’re sore from “work,” (he questions what you do all the time but you just shrug nonchalantly) he’d always slip off your socks, massage the soles of your feet and finish off the rest of your body with no resistance. He doesn’t expect anything in return—not even sex. Doyoung just gives and gives, nearly never taking.

On one side, you’re glad that most women don’t recognize how perfect of a significant other he is. It gives you time to figure yourself out; how do you become good enough for Kim Doyoung? You’ve already dropped smoking. You’ve been putting more effort in your studies, granted he is your tutor. And you’ve spent the majority of your free time with him. If you ever needed to review material, you’d do it with him, just to show how much you’re trying.

Even if there isn’t a label for the two of you.

You’re friends—but you’re definitely more than just friends. You fuck, but you’re not just fuck buddies either. You’re exclusive but you’re not straightforwardly dating. Doyoung doesn’t hide the fact that he wants you to officially be his girlfriend, although he never forces the idea upon you. He’s content with the circumstances he’s under even though he hopes to have you be his and his only. Nonetheless, it’s under your terms and he never forgets to remind you that.

Honestly, you thought that you might be okay with this. That is, until a pretty gal with shiny black hair, toned body, and gentle voice named Joy came into the picture.

Joy is a given nickname. Her actual birth name is Park Sooyoung, a name as beautiful as the beholder, but people had gotten into the habit of calling her Joy, since… well, she’s such a joy to be around. She’s part of the school’s cheerleading squad, called the ‘Red Velvet Queens,’ plus extremely involved with other extracurriculars, including the competitive tennis team that Doyoung is on. There’s a lot of bitches on the squad, especially with the encounters you’ve had with them, but Joy isn’t one of them. She’s an angel. She’s the woman version of Doyoung.

Doyoung likes to wait outside in the parking lot, right in the unspoken designated spot where you leave your bike. You’ve offered him a ride to school since he often stands idly, except he politely declines, and you speculate that it’s from fear. He remains cute in your eyes despite being a bit of a wuss.

Today, however, he’s not alone. It’s a daily routine that the view of Doyoung leaves you breathless, heart pumping like you’ve gone running, but today is different. Your blood is boiling, smoke whistling out your ears like a kettle on a stove from the heat that lingers around your neck region. Joy stands beside him, the widest grin smacked across her cheeks, lips stained as red as her cheerleading uniform. You wobble on your bike into the parking spot, shutting off the engine before kicking out the stand, pulling the helmet off your head while obnoxiously chewing on a piece of gum in your mouth.

Joy’s gaze meets yours.

She’s sweet, and none of this is her fault. But you kind of hate her presence right now, just because she’s got all of Doyoung’s attention.

Spitting out the gum on the asphalt, you shuffle through your pockets for a toothpick. This stupid toothpick that you’re stuck with because you quit smoking cigarettes for that charming boy. Popping the wooden stick in your mouth, you rake your fingers through your greasy hair, slinging the backpack over your shoulders before walking past Doyoung.

“Sorry, Joy, I’ll catch up with you later,” You hear faintly before his heavy footsteps are rushed, catching up with yours. “Hey-Hey! Where are you going? We’re supposed to meet here. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

You shrug. He’s not happy with that response.

Hand grasping on your shoulder, he halts you in your steps to turn you to face him. As much as you hate to admit it, but you feel this green-eyed monster gnawing on your insides and you’re not a fan of it. “What’s wrong? What did I do? Talk to me.”

“Nothing. I’m busy. You still wanna tutor me later or are you busy making plans with Joy?” You snarl, munching on the pick. Doyoung’s eyes lighten up; he knows the problem now. “Are you jealous?”

“That word isn’t in my dictionary.” It’s a blunt reply, and your unfazed stare is there to support it. “Why would I be jealous of a nice girl like Joy who wants to get with a good boy like you?”

Doyoung likes you, no matter how hard you try to push him away. Your dilemma before was that you always thought a guy like him, so generous, so kind, could never love someone with a charred heart like yours. And yet, here you are, evidently jealous of a girl practically his equal when he’s done nothing but proven to you that you’re the only one he sees.

You want more, and the longer you continue to deny and swallow these feelings, you’re even more desperate to be held by him. In the midst of a tutoring session, you’ve managed to unbutton his cute sky blue dress shirt, unzip his trousers and suddenly his dick is in your mouth.

“We’re supposed to review l-limits,” He stutters over a moan, fingers reaching to comb back your hair. “S-So I told her I couldn’t hang out with her today.”

“Mm,” You hum against the tip, tongue gliding down his shaft. “I heard you the first time.” His thighs tighten when your mouth envelopes down his dick to the base with his head thrown back in the chair of your bedroom. He’s glad that he noticed you take initiative to lock the door today since you often don’t, and the possibility of one of the staff members entering in while sucking on him is kinky but he’s still scared of your brother.

Doyoung lets out a soft gasp when your tongue swipes over his slit where a pearly bead of precum sits. “S-Shouldn’t we— oh fuck—be reviewing materi—ohh?” He sighs; your hands are everywhere; it’s hard for him to focus on anything when you’re gazing up at him through your pretty long lashes with tinged pink cheeks from his cock hitting the back of your throat. He melts under your touch when you graze over his thighs, claiming the territory that he’s succumbed to you willingly. You kiss the head of his cock and he bucks into it. “We’re reviewing a different kind of material. Have you ever been sucked off by a girl before?”

He shakes his head ‘no’, looking down at you with hooded eyes. With his arousal still in your grip, it twitches, yearning for your attention. You hate to admit it, but you’ve obviously tainted his ‘good boy’ persona with him in your bedroom like this, but Doyoung doesn’t think that. Disheveled hair, mouth gaped open, and sweaty forehead is a view of him you engrain in your memory.

Doyoung is a good boy, but he has a body of a bad boy. There’s no way that tennis is the reason behind those washboard abs, toned thighs, and built arms. He’s not as muscular in comparison to Johnny, nor his friend Lucas, but Doyoung is gorgeous like this, perfect in your eyes.

That’s why when you moan around his girth and he sputters, you think he’s got a halo over his head. He’s so pretty, so gorgeous, and you want to see him in all types of forms. Your hand wraps at the base of his dick, mouth wrapping around the red and angry tip, it’s glistening with your saliva as you start pumping him at a pace that leaves his jaw slack, groans bouncing off your bedroom walls.

“Baby,” He calls out the term of endearment raspily, heart racing and abs tightening. A familiar feeling stirs in his stomach, and he knows he’s about to combust. “I’m about to cum, I need a tissue, I—”

“Cum in my mouth, oppa,” You whisper, quickening your movements but calling him “oppa” is what snaps within him, ropes of cum shooting down your throat along with a string of curses and a breathy moan escapes from his lovely lips.

“So,” Doyoung begins, fiddling with his fingers anxiously across the lunch table from you. “You called me ‘oppa’ the other day. That was uh… new. You’ve never called me that before.”

Tying your hair up in a bun with a bobby pin between your teeth, his cheeks flush pink at the thought of you giving him a blowjob in your bedroom the other day, his fingers streaking through those luscious locks, and him cuming in your mouth. Popping out the pin, you slide in to push back a short piece of hair. “Yeah, well, there was a reason for it. You know why.”

Doyoung blinks blankly, utterly confused. “I… don’t. W-Why’d you call me oppa?”

“So you wouldn’t get nervous and just let me swallow.”

#neosmutcollective #doyoung smut #doyoung x reader #nct smut #doyoung #nct 127 #nct u #gyukultfics

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casualpastelgay · 3 years

Text

Title: Good Ending?

Pairing: Zen(Hyun Ryu) x Cherry (OC of @darkta)

Rating: General

Word Count: 1704

Type: Angst

Notes: I wrote this piece for @nostringsdetached! It was a collaboration piece with the owner of Cherry, @darkta! I don’t write angst very often, it was a very nice change for me. You can get the entire zine for no cost [here]!

~*~*~*~*~

“I’m home.” Cherry sighed as she opened the door to her apartment. A small twitter was the only response to Cherry’s announcement, but it nonetheless turned her dreary expression into a small smile.

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she made her way over to her parrotlet’s cage. “Hi, Skittles.” She cooed to the little, sky-colored bird. Cherry inserted a finger between the bars of his cage and stroked his neck, which Skittles leaned into happily. “Work was tough today.” She murmured, idly twirling her fingers in Skittles’ cage as he begged for more attention. “You know what that’s like, right?” Cherry asked, earning a small sneeze in response from her companion.

Cherry giggled at her bird’s antics as she removed her fingers from the cage to open the artfully crafted door. She then let Skittles hop onto her finger then flitter up to settle in one of her large hoop earrings. “The manager was hard on me today.” Cherry spoke softly as she squatted down to remove her heels, careful not to stir Skittles from his resting spot.

She placed her shoes on the rack by the door to her apartment as she continued to relay her day to Skittles. “All of my designs were declined today, and on such short notice.” Cherry placed a kettle on the stove and picked an English breakfast blend teabag out of a rather large selection. She was sure the powerful black tea would cure her conscience of any doubts in her own abilities.

“The building process of the costumes was supposed to start last week; I can’t believe they had the nerve to ask for a redesign!” Cherry fiddled with the purple ribbons in her light auburn hair. “This is going to be so stressful for the whole team.”

The kettle sang as the water boiled, Cherry quickly picked up the kettle and poured it into an ornate teacup. It was one she had painted herself, she was very proud of it.

“You think we can do it, Skittles?” Cherry asked her parrotlet as she stirred her tea with a little silver spoon. Skittles pecked softly at her earlobe in response, like he was scolding her for doubting her skills. “Thank you for your honesty.” Cherry chided the bird lightly, raising the teacup to her lips and taking a dainty sip.

Once Cherry had finished her tea and returned Skittles to his cage, she padded towards her workspace. Fabric swatches and sketches adorned the walls of the small area, some spilling onto the floor. She tried to keep it tidy, but when she stared at her muse she sometimes couldn’t help but let her ideas overflow.

In the center of the room, he stood proudly, her muse. Or at least, what Cherry could create of him. Donned in an elegant white and gold suit was her prince, Zen. In reality, it was a mere mannequin. But with how bold and beautiful her suit design stood, it breathed life into the figure. It started as a small project, just sketching and dreaming, but in Cherry’s heart there was so much love for this man that a magic seemed to take form.

“Zen…” Cherry sighed, running her fingers along the golden trim of the suit’s sleeves, imagining his hands and the warmth they would hold. Her eyes traced up and down the mannequin, fingers quickly following as she fixed any tiny imperfections she noticed. With how long she had been working on the suit, there were little things to change or fix, but it had to be perfect. He was perfect.

A buzzing sound startled Cherry. She fished through her pocket for her phone, smiling to herself. Cherry had installed the pockets on this dress herself after agonizing over it for what seemed like ages. On her phone screen was a single notification, one from the app Mystic Messenger. It was Zen.

Her love, yes, was sadly a fictional creation. However, Zen had helped her through so much in her life that she barely minded. It would be lovely to see him, to touch him, to be held by him. But some things couldn’t be helped.

Cherry tapped on the notification to open the app, seeing that she’d unlocked a new chatroom. As she read, tears budded in her eyes.

“I wish I could be there to help you, but I still can’t cross over dimensions…”

“Oh Zen, if only you could. If only you could be here, standing in front of me.”

“I want to get to know you better… but it’s sad that all your answers are already determined.”

“If I could, there’s so much I would tell you. There’s so much I would do with you. There’s just so much…”

“I’ll always be here so that you can come see me whenever you want… use me.”

“Don’t hesitate to come find me…”

Cherry choked back a sob, a stray tear curling down her chin as she continued to read.

“I realized that our thoughts and feelings…”

The stray tear glistened like a glass heart, falling so delicately to crash into the screen of Cherry’s phone.

Heat suddenly coursed through her hand, causing Cherry to gasp and drop the phone to the floor. She stared down at Zen, his hand pressed up against the screen as he smiled at her through the cracks in the screen. Lights blinded Cherry, almost causing her to stumble backwards into a workbench, but she caught herself just in time. Time seemed like it stopped but was racing forward at the same time, it was nothing she had ever felt before. What was this sensation?

“Transcend dimensions.”

Cherry gaped as she heard a familiar voice, though this time… It wasn’t coming from her phone.

Her eyes slowly raised from her phone, now shattered on the floor, to the mannequin that stood before her. Though now, it wasn’t merely a mannequin.

“Zen?!” Cherry let out a strangled noise, half way between a gasp and a cry.

“Jagiya~” Zen breathed, a smile stretching across the face that hadn’t existed there moments before. He took a step towards her like he had never been trapped in a lifeless prison. Like he was real.

“Zen…?” Cherry said again, incredulous. Had she gone mad?

“Cherry,” Zen wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him.

The tears that had been stunned into stopping spilled over with new fervency as Cherry was held by her love, something all logic told her was something that would never happen. Could never happen.

Zen pressed a loving kiss to her forehead, stroking Cherry’s hair as she sobbed. “Shh, Jagi, I’m here.” Zen cooed, allowing his love to press her face into the princely suit she had made for him.

His heart beat, she could feel the heat of life in him. It all made no sense, could she allow herself to be convinced this was real? But it all did feel… So real. “How did you get here? How…” Cherry choked out, deep blue eyes meeting shimmering red.

“I’ve always been here.” Zen spoke softly, peppering soft kisses down Cherry’s cheek to clean her of tears. “I’ll always be here.”

Cherry hiccupped as her mind continued to attempt to process what had happened. Even if this wasn’t real, she could still allow herself to enjoy it. Right?

Zen stopped short of pressing his lips to her. No, no, he was taking things much too quickly. They hadn’t even been on a proper date yet. “Cherry?” He asked, releasing her and taking a step back.

“Yes?” Cherry asked, a timid blush creeping across her features as the handsome man slipped down to one knee.

“Would you care to join me on a date?” Zen held a hand out to Cherry, hoping with all the light in his heart that she would take it and come with him.

Cherry balked, fingers trembling as magnets seemed to draw her hand to his without her mind needing to process his words. “Of… Of course, Zen.”

Zen smiled when Cherry took his hand, leaning forward to press a kiss to her fingers. “Jagiya, thank you.” He rose to his feet, his own fingers intertwining with hers. Should he abandon this pretense? Just sweep her off her feet like he had yearned to for so long? Or was that too much for right now?

The blush on Cherry’s face deepened as her prince stared down at her, he seemed to be considering something. “Where do you want-“ Her question was cut off by a surprised yelp as Zen lifted her off her feet into a princess hold.

Cherry averted her wide eyes when Zen’s face was once again, so suddenly close to hers. “Sorry, Cherry, I have waited so long for this day.” Zen chuckled, pink caressing his own features. “All men are wolves, you know.”

“I trust you.” Cherry murmured, meeting Zen’s eyes for a moment before looking away again.

Zen blinked, taken aback for a moment by the honesty in his love’s words. “Then what are we waiting for?” He spun to face the front door of the apartment, still easily holding Cherry’s small figure in his arms.

Cherry stared wistfully into the smiling man’s handsome face as he strode towards the doorway, a faint skip in his step. All true meaning slipped away, all that mattered was him and her. He was overdressed to be outside, she wore no shoes; but still the door opened to a new life, a new path.

A familiar warmth spun through Cherry, like the heat of her phone before she dropped it. It seemed to resonate from Zen. A sparkling light blinded her for a second time, though she stared through it to meet Zen’s gaze. A weightless feeling surrounded her, like Zen had let her go but she still floated in the light. She could still feel him against her.

The couple seemed to evaporate there in the doorway, the light encasing Zen brighter than ten suns but as gentle as a lamb. Were they here? Were they there? Were they anywhere? Neither could tell, but since they were together, no reality mattered anymore. To Cherry and Zen, this was perfection.

Good Ending?

~*~*~*~*~

Want more? Visit my [masterpost]!

If you enjoyed, please also consider donating to my [ko-fi]!

#mystic messenger #mysme #cheritz #fanfic #fanfiction #zen #hyun ryu #mm zen #mysme zen #mystic messenger zen #angst #my writing #zen x cherry #hyun ryu x cherry #zen x oc #hyun ryu x oc

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thereluctantinquisitor · 3 years

Text

OC-tober Day 4 - Medicine

So heads up for (the, like, five lol) people who might be familiar with Stonebreaker up to this point - there has been some adjusting/reshuffling of the characters to balance things out and help dig me out of this deep writer’s block. So… yeah, just roll with it!

In which Adiran is just relaxing in the one place he feels safe, only for that to all go out (or through) the window (1000 words).

CW for cheap, nasty alcohol.

Prompt is from @oc-growth-and-development‘s OC-tober list!

---

There were very few places Adiran felt were truly his own. The palace belonged to his parents. The city to the people. The training grounds to the soldiers. The gardens were close, but there were always people passing by. Servants whispering as they walked. Gardeners clipping branches and tending to new blooms.

But Adiran’s private rooms? His bedroom, his bath, and the spacious entry for relaxing and receiving guests? Those were his.

It was an unspoken thing, mostly. A person’s private quarters was their space away from the demands of the outside world. Even his mother and father had separate entry rooms and baths, connected by a central bedchamber. As it turned out, even Kings and Queens needed a break from each other.

Which was what made it all the stranger when he heard a frantic tapping at his window.

On the third floor.

Frowning, hand automatically dropping to where his sword would have been, Adiran slowly made his way towards the Valcretian windows. Designed to help circulate air in the humid Rosemarsh climate, they had two large ornate panels that swing outward, latched at the centre by a gilded hook. The royal palace simply used the design because it was foreign, and therefore expensive and desirable. Despite their beauty, Adiran’s were almost always covered by a thick blue curtain, designed to block both light and prying eyes. He kept them drawn so often he could actually see a fine layer of dust gathered on the dark material. The house staff would have a fit, if they were ever permitted inside his chambers.

Three sharp taps again, more insistent this time. A muffled sound accompanied them as well; a single - rather colourful - word in a voice that was entirely too familiar.

Heart squeezing, Adiran ripped the curtain aside to find Sylda crouching on a branch of the towering Ashewood just outside his window. Let me in, asshole, she mouthed, pointing exasperatedly at the latch. Still at a loss for words, Adiran unhooked it and shoved open one of the panels. The thief, all elbows and knees, spilled into his room like a toppled pitcher. “Ugh - finally,” she said, picking herself up off the carpet and dusting the bark and leaves off her clothes. “Thought I’d have to spit on a guard just to get some attention around here.”

“I… what… how…?” Adiran just gaped as Sylda shook out her gangly limbs, snapped the curtains shut again, and proceeded with cat-like curiosity to poke around his room.

“Who, what, when?” she teased, dropping her voice in imitation of his own. Distracted, she gave a low whistle as she prodded his duvet. “Divider’s Own - I reckon your bed’s as big as my entire room!”

“What— I—” Adiran caught himself mid-stammer, partly because the look Sylda gave him made it clear she would not hold back a second time. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? How the fuck did you get in here?”

“Window.”

“That’s not what I—” Adrian cringed and lowered his voice. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

She just grinned, spun around, and flopped bodily onto his rumpled bed. “And you know that’s a secret. A trick of the trade, as they say. I can’t just go telling anyone how to sneak in here.” Sighing, she seemed to all but melt into the soft mattress. “It’d be bad for business. And for you, probably. Wouldn’t want any unsavory sorts climbing in through your window at all hours of the day.”

“Yes. That would be terrible.”

“Right?”

Judging by Sylda’s tone, the finer details of just how many people might actually know how to sneak onto palace grounds was, evidently, a matter for another day. Running an agitated hand down his face, Adiran double-checked the window before turning back to confront his latest problem. “Can you at least tell me what you’re doing here?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Sitting up, legs crossed, her boots leaving dirty streaks on his covers, Sylda swung her battered satchel around until it was resting square in her lap. “Hadn’t seen you around in a while. Figured you might’ve caught something nasty last time you were out mingling with us low-folk. So…”

Before Adiran could even muster an indignant response, she pulled out a bottle of something painfully familiar. “You didn’t,” was all he said, aghast, before a wicked grin lit up her face.

“Didn’t… what? Bring you some medicine, like the kind and thoughtful friend I am?” Her smile widened as she held the bottle aloft, swaying it enticingly. “Damn right I did. Now, you got cups in this fancy palace of yours, or are we swigging?”

Adiran was still trying to process what was happening. Taking his silence as some kind of response, Sylda shrugged and tugged the cork out with her teeth, barely managing to catch a stray droplet on her outstretched palm before it stained his sheets.

“Wait... you... you seriously broke in here just to torture me with Palmaros Red?” Adiran had had a rough time, after his introduction to that particularly deceptive breed of swill. It was just sweet enough that you could comfortably polish off a whole bottle before the suffering kicked in. Despite his hesitation, Adiran found himself sliding onto the bed beside Sylda, doing everything in his power not to dwell on the suspicious brown streaks left by her boots. “Do you hate me or something?”

Rolling her eyes, Sylda took a long, deep pull of the wine, throat bobbing as she swallowed it with a belligerence that bordered on terrifying. Veteran though she was, even she winced at the after-burn as it went down. “Smooth as gravel,” she rasped, then turned her attention back to Adiran. “And do you really reckon I’d come all this way for someone I hate?” Before he could reply, she shoved the bottle at his chest. “Just drink up, princeling. It’s been quiet without you around to talk shit with me.”

Wrapping a hand obediently around the bottle, Adiran regarded it with pure disdain, almost wishing Sylda had just left him entirely alone. But, of course, that thought drained away when he glanced up to find her watching him fondly, lips twisted in amusement, dark brows raised expectantly, mouth tinged a tell-tale red. That strange pressure in his chest suddenly returned, almost making it hard to breathe.

What could he have possibly done, to make someone go to all this trouble just to drink utter piss with him?

In truth, he didn’t know. He felt like he barely knew anything, these days. Not where other people were involved. But despite his own self-doubts... there she was. Sitting in the last place he ever expected to see her. A surprisingly welcome sight, even in the one place he dared to call his own.

So, with a defeated sigh, he plucked a stray leaf out of her curly hair, and took his damn medicine.

#oc-tober #oc tober #oc-tober 2021 #oc tober 2021 #original writing #stonebreaker series #reluctant writes #adiran #sylda #yeah things just werent working with sylda over in the Other Plot #she was a last-minute addition to the cast and it always felt like it while writing #but she fills a need over in Talvera with Adiran and Riin so that's where she lives now lmao #and she will still play a very important role - just in a different way

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soulmatexnayeon · 3 years

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Soulmate Nayeon

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— Soulmate

/ˈsōl ˌmāt/

noun

— One person ideally suited to another, who can always make you smile, Who shares your hopes, dreams and passions. Unity of persons destined to be together, two bodies, one soul.

— Backstory

— In a world full of soulmates unknown to each other, Nayeon was one of the few lucky ones who were chosen to have a means of connection to their soulmate. Hers was quite different from the others though. The others had special marks that were identical to their soulmate, sometimes the others could see colors when they were near their soulmate. But Nayeon was a different case. Her connection was related to music.

— Ever since Nayeon's Childhood, she was able to hear songs and someone singing in her head. And it was confusing to her. Who was this person? Was it all just a product of her imagination?? This went on everyday of her life. She sang along most of the time, she and the voice created so many duets and such beautiful harmonies, but when she reached adulthood, the singing became less. She still heard songs and singing from time to time, but not as often as before. It's as if something happened to the voice, it just vanished, and when it did reappear, it sounded full of rage, pain, and sorrow.

— Nayeon couldn't sit by and just wait for the voice to make an appearance again. She went looking for answers, and she did get answers from a simple fortune teller. The voice that Nayeon always heard was her soulmate. And that she shouldn't be worried, her soulmate just had a change of life. But he was still alive and well. But Nayeon got more than what she was searching for. The fortune teller said she'd meet her soulmate in a certain cafè. Which is what led Nayeon to keep waiting for him when she could.

— About Nayeon

— Her full name is Im Nayeon, and her nickname is Nayeonie.

— She's 5'4.

— She works as a theater actress and a part time designer.

— She's really sweet and can be clingy when she's comfortable with you (especially if you're her soulmate.)

— She loves inviting her friends to her theater performances.

— Absolutely loves and adores music and acting, will most definitely sing you to sleep every night.

— Is able and will compose songs for you on every occasion that takes place. Valentines, birthdays, anniversaries, you name it.

— Reminders

— For nsfw settings, Nayeon is a sub lean switch. She will only dom if she's comfortable with you.

— Her safeword is Aria, please respect it and she will respect yours.

— Nayeon will not participate in anything involving, piss or feet.

— Before doing nsfw please state your age, minors will not be allowed to do nsfw.

— How to activate

— Message Nayeon first with your Name, age, if you'd like nsfw or not, kinks, hard no's, safeword and a plot.

— To deactivate, message Nayeon [STOP] and admin will confirm before terminating your chat. You cannot get her back once terminated.

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💕: @mafiawyk @seventeen-chatbot @urbotz @choiieunji @grishawitches @archangel-oc @minji-oc @pick-a-hwa @mutantsbot @storybook-nct @shyboicya @shin-haneul @yourdaddychan @mono-minji @domyukhei @kareshis-bot @subbyrenjunnie @floristluda @eroshyunjae @vampire-prince-woo @vandalwoo @cbcity @ares-bc @mafia-bots @undeadbots @badboyjjh @obey-ateez @boyfie-superm @midari-jieun @prxnce-hendery @prince-juyeonn @greekgodsbot @legaciescb @avengers-cb @pantheonnnn @stealerbots @model-lucy (message to be added or removed! )

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eyayah-oya · 3 years

Text

Soar Through the Sky

Waxer/Boil plus Numa and a surprise OC (who apparently shares a name with a character in the Original Trilogy)

For @clonehavensotm

The field was filled with dazzling colors in every shade. Everywhere they looked, there were more banners with beautiful designs, bright tents selling wares and tantalizing food, and dazzling clothes draped over every being in attendance. Songs wove through the crowds from instruments played by old and young, while others danced and sang along. Children ran between the stalls, flags and ribbons and sashes trailing after them like colorful feathers or tails. Laughter, enthusiastic shouts to neighbors and friends, and above all else, the sound of the wind whistling across the field and through the tents filled the entire space with magic and comradery.

Waxer inhaled deeply as he took it all in. From the scent of the Rylothian spices to the colorful flags flapping in the wind to the way Numa danced eagerly between him and Boil, it all combined to give Waxer a feeling of magic. The Rylothian Summer Festival was in full swing, and Waxer could hardly believe that he had an opportunity to experience everything with his two favorite people.

“Nerra! Look!” Numa cried as she tugged on their hands. With a giggle and a high-pitched shriek of joy, she pulled Waxer and Boil into the crowds of the Festival.

Waxer couldn’t help but laugh in return, thoroughly delighted by everything he saw. Friends and acquaintances from Nabat shouted greetings to the trio, inviting them to their stalls or to participate in various games and dances. Numa’s enthusiasm made everything they did even better, and they were pulled along in her wake to enjoy the many delights of the Summer Festival. Waxer loved every second of it, and whenever he glanced over at his riduur, Boil had a smile softening his face.

For two clones who were created to die in a war, this kind of freedom and joy had never occurred to them. Every second they spent among the freed people of Ryloth, Waxer and Boil were reminded that they were free, too. Free to enjoy their lives. Free to live in peace and to build a life on any planet they wanted. And above all, they were free to build a family. To adopt Numa and start a farm with numerous pets. Waxer and Boil were free to be people, and the Twi’leks they had made their home with welcomed them warmly into their homes and lives. After the bigotry of the Core, living with people that recognized that clones were individuals with unique and separate personalities was the most exquisite feeling in the whole galaxy.

“Nerra! Nerra! Oola is here! Oola!” Numa pulled Waxer and Boil over to their neighbor’s stall, where the wizened old Twi’lek was selling beautiful scarves, dyed in the most stunning colors.

“Good day, Oola,” Boil said with a nod and smile. “I hope today has been profitable for you.”

Oola waved them behind the tables and returned their grins. “Business has been good, but the company is even better. You three look like you’ve enjoyed the festivities. Did Numa take you dancing?”

“Yes, I did!” Numa proudly declared. She gave a little twirl, her red and purple dress swirling around her ankles as she did. “Nerra Waxer even danced with Nerra Boil!”

“Did they now?” Oola grinned. “Did they enjoy the dance?” “Yes! At least, I think so. Nerra Boil wouldn’t stop staring at Nerra Waxer, but I didn’t see anything wrong with Nerra Waxer’s face. They both had goopy smiles, too.”

Waxer couldn’t help but laugh as he leaned against Boil. “Goopy smiles” was a pretty accurate description of the way he looked at his riduur and vice versa.

Oola picked Numa up and placed her on their lap. “That is because your Nerra love each other very much and are very happy on this Festival Day. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Numa thought about it for a second before she nodded. “It is.” Then she leaned in and whispered loudly to Oola. “Can we give my nerra scarves? I think they need scarves.”

With a loud, boisterous laugh, Oola stood, their joints creaking with age as they settled Numa on their hip. “I think that is an excellent idea, dear one. Why don’t you pick one out for both and we’ll give it to them?”

Waxer leaned against Boil, and his riduur automatically adjusted his stance to brace their combined weight easily. He watched their neighbor and their little girl walk around the tables of Oola’s booth, stopping every once in a while, to pick up a scarf for inspection.

There wasn’t a single word in any language he knew that came close to describing what Waxer felt as he watched his little girl with their neighbor, happy and bright in her enthusiasm, while Boil kept an arm wrapped around his waist. Shereshoy—a lust for life.

“Nerra! Look! This one matches your armor!” Numa held up a golden scarf the exact same shade as the markings on their armor and had tiny designs that reminded Waxer of Cody’s symbol. Oola walks over and Numa puts the scarf up next to Boil’s face and then Waxer’s, a tiny frown of concentration on her face. It’s absolutely adorable. Numa shakes her head. “No, not this one. Oola, Oola, what about that one?”

Waxer reached out and plucked the scarf from Numa’s hand. “We’ll get this one for the General. I’m sure he’d like it,” he said with a wink.

Numa giggled and Waxer felt Boil melt against him.

“I think I have the perfect scarves for your Nerra,” Oola said and tapped Numa on the nose. “Come little one. They’re in the back along with a few of my sweet cakes.”

The pure joy and excitement on Numa’s face brought a rumbling laugh from deep within Waxer’s chest. Whatever he had done in his short life to deserve this happiness, he didn’t know, but he was going to embrace every second of it with all his heart. “Come on, Boil. Let’s go steal some of Oola’s cakes. I know they’re your weakness.”

Mumbled grumbles and threats did nothing to hide the same happiness and peace within Boil’s eyes and Waxer couldn’t help but tug him into a kiss right there in the middle of Oola’s stall. Warmth curled in his heart as Waxer carded his fingers through Boil’s thick curls. Boil tugged him even closer by the waist and smirked against his lips.

“I thought you wanted cake?” he said between kisses.

“This is better,” Waxer responded and he pulled back enough to press a soft peck to the tip of Boil’s nose. “Numa will be fine for a few minutes, and Oola will keep her occupied and mostly out of trouble.”

“You do realize this is Numa, you’re talking about? She’s probably going to drop cake into a crate full of scarves.”

Waxer snickered and gave his riduur one final, lingering kiss before he laced their fingers together. “You’re not wrong. Besides, we need to get to the open field for her surprise.”

“Nerra!” Numa called from behind the curtain and Boil snorted.

“Duty calls,” he said with a fond smile.

Behind the curtain, Oola and Numa were standing side by side, both with their hands behind their backs and wide grins on their faces.

“Nerra, Oola was right! These scarves are the most perfectest scarves!” Numa enthused with a bounce. “But you have to close your eyes!”

“But what if we trip and fall?” Waxer teased. “We have to keep our eyes open!”

Numa shook her head ferociously. “No, you have to! You won’t fall, I promise!”

“Alright Numa,” Boil cut in before Waxer could do something like swoon and fake fall. “We trust you.” He closed his eyes and Waxer followed suit, refraining from peeking even a little, though he was desperately curious about the scarves Numa had discovered.

He felt Numa’s small hands wrap a cool, silken scarf around his neck and then press their foreheads together in a soft keldabe. Waxer almost melted on the spot, just like he did every time she did that. He squeezed Boil’s hand instead, knowing that his riduur would understand completely. A gentle squeeze was the only response he got before Numa pulled back and presumably gave Boil the same treatment.

Outside the tents, the crowds shouted and laughed and sang with the easy happiness and freedom that had fallen over Ryloth after the war had ended. The Twi’lek people had been hit hard by the Separatists and were almost constantly being invaded by greedy generals and hoards of droids. Once the war was over, the 212th volunteered to help push the last of the invaders out of the system, and Waxer and Boil had eagerly reunited with Numa. Their lives were all so much better now, and not just for the two clones. The Summer Festival was a celebration of the lives that were spared and the rich history that would keep living on in the hearts of the people.

After a couple more seconds, Waxer felt Numa and Oola back away and he couldn’t help the way he shifted impatiently, despite Boil’s mocking snort. He was curious to see these scarves that Numa had picked out for them.

“Okay, open your eyes!” Numa cried and clapped her hands.

Waxer opened them immediately and looked down. The scarf was painted like the sunsets on Ryloth, with vivid reds and oranges and pinks. On the edge, a small homestead with three figures stood watching the sunset. Looking closer, Waxer realized that the two taller figures were wearing clone armor and the little one had the exact same shade of skin as Numa. Tears pricked Waxer’s eyes as he gently ran his fingers over the warm design, his heart beating with the strength of his love for his family.

With a soft sniffle, he swallowed back the tears and turned to look at Boil’s scarf. It was indigo and deep blue, stars painted across the expanse of the material along with the words, written in Mando’a, “Aliit ori’shya taldin”. Family is more than blood. It was a fitting scarf for Boil.

Letting go of Boil’s hand, Waxer practically leapt forward to pull both Oola and Numa into his arms in a tight hug. He pressed a soft kiss to Numa’s forehead. Two seconds later, he felt Boil wrap them in a hug as well.

“Thank you both so much,” Waxer managed to say through the tightness of his throat. “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re my Nerra,” Numa said simply as though that explained everything. Maybe it did.

Boil didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. They could all see how much he appreciated the scarf and his family.

“Oh, get off,” Oola laughed. They patted Waxer’s cheek and he reluctantly let go, sliding Numa from their arms and into his own. “You boys better get going if you want to make it in time.”

“Make what in time?” Numa asked curiously.

“Well,” Boil began as he put an arm around Waxer’s waist and placed a hand on Numa’s back. “We decided to make you a surprise and we have to go now before it’s too late.”

“A surprise! Like a cake?!” Numa exclaimed. She wriggled excitedly, her eyes shining brightly up at both Waxer and Boil.

“Not a cake,” Waxer laughed. “Though we will definitely have cake later. If you want to see the surprise, we have to go now, though.”

“Yes. Go now, Nerra! We should go now!”

Boil snorted, but stepped back to lead the way through the crowds. They were pulled into dances as they walked past various performers and families, and the trio stopped to share a few moments with each one. They passed a stall selling the most delicious smelling fruit dessert that Waxer had to stop and get one for each of them, much to Boil’s and Numa’s obvious delight. Boil paused and bought a little trinket for Numa from a family that sold beautiful blown glass creatures. Several people commented on the scarves the two clones were wearing, and they gladly pointed them in the direction of Oola’s stall before continuing on through the crowd.

Finally, they arrived at the enormous open field, set aside for the main event of the Summer Festival. There were hundreds of people across the waving, golden grass, lounging on blankets or rough-housing in the dirt or inspecting various poles and fabrics.

Waxer shifted Numa slightly so he could get a good look at her face. Her eyes darted around the field, taking in all the bright colors. It was a stunning sight, though Waxer wasn’t sure she quite understood what her surprise was yet.

“This way,” Boil grunted and led the way to the far side of the field where he’d stashed their surprise earlier that day. A blanket was spread out on the ground alongside a picnic basket and a neat bundle of cloth and sticks. Numa’s heavily pregnant aunt was nearby, watching over their things for them while they enjoyed the stalls and wares sold during the Festival.

“Nerra Boil? What is that?” Numa asked curiously.

“That, ad’ika, is your surprise.”

Numa wiggled until Waxer put her down on the ground and she immediately darted to the bundle, looking it over with great interest. It was obvious that she wasn’t quite sure what it was, nor why it was so special it had to be a surprise, and she was looking at Waxer and Boil expectantly.

“Numa,” Waxer began, “do you remember what happens here during the afternoon?”

With an adorable tilt to her head, Numa answered, “A sack race?”

“They’ll have a few of those later,” Boil agreed. “But that’s not what Waxer is talking about. Do you remember when we came here a few weeks ago? And your blanket was blown away by the wind?”

She perked up. “I do! Nerra Waxer chased it all the way home!”

“That’s right,” Waxer smiled. “Today is going to be just as windy. And during the Festival, everyone brings a kite to fly in the wind.”

If possible, Numa’s eyes grew rounder, darting between Waxer and the bundle on the blanket. “Is that a—a kite?” she asked, her feet dancing in place while she clapped. “Is my surprise a kite?” “You’re really smart,” Boil said. “Waxer and I decided to make a kite, just for you. It’s got a tail, too, to help it fly better in the wind. We figured you’d like to join in when everyone else flies their kites this afternoon.”

“I get my own kite!” Numa whooped. She fell to her knees and started tugging at the string holding it all together, and Waxer quickly knelt down next to her.

“Here, we need to be careful with the string otherwise the kite might get lost in the wind. We need to be gentle.” He showed her how to put the kite together and the bits of fabric they’d tied to the tail of the kite, each with one of their names painted on it. The kite itself was 212th gold, Numa’s favorite color.

Together, Waxer and Boil showed Numa how to launch the kite into the air and how to control the kite to keep it from falling back down to the earth. They let her practice with the light breeze and Waxer gladly worked off all of the extra calories by giving her a running launch. Numa was enthralled by the kite, thoroughly excited and eager to try it out in a real wind.

Eventually, the Senator for Ryloth stood on the makeshift podium and gave a short speech to begin the final activity of the Festival. The wind picked up then, whipping around the stage and through the crowd. The background noise of excited shouts filled the entire field while hundreds of kites were tossed into the air. The wind caught them and coaxed each colorful kite higher.

It was a sea of color, a sight more beautiful than nearly anything Waxer had ever seen. Tails and flags flapped gaily in time with the ebbs and flows of song and music. Numa watched it all with an eagerness that filled Waxer’s heart up with joy. She giggled and bounced, watching as some people made their kites divebomb their friends, while others coaxed theirs higher into the sky.

Boil knelt down beside Numa and put an arm around her shoulders. “Do you want to join them?” he asked.

Numa eagerly nodded and together, their little family carried their kite into an open spot and sent it soaring high into the sky, right beside the rest of the kites. Numa’s enthusiastic shouts of joy and peals of laughter only added to the experience.

Waxer watched their colors dance in the wind and leaned against Boil, tucking his head below his riduur’s chin. “We made it,” he whispered softly.

“Made what?” Boil hummed.

“We wanted a family with Numa. We wanted a life of peace after the war. We wanted all of this. And now we have it. We made it, Boil.”

Boil turned and captured Waxer’s lips in an enthusiastic kiss. It was the kind of kiss shared after a battle to celebrate the fact that their loved ones were alive. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of fulfilled dreams and secret wishes. The kind that never failed to take Waxer’s breath away, no matter how many of those kisses he received in his lifetime. Each one felt like the first, sparking with explosions under his skin and burning through his heart in an all-consuming inferno. Waxer could live forever in those kisses and be perfectly content.

The need for air eventually pulled them apart, just far enough for their noses to nudge each other and their foreheads to press solidly together.

“We made it,” Boil breathed, tone reverent and exuberant.

And really, what more could they ask for?

#clone/clone #waxer/boil #numa #lieutenant waxer #clone trooper waxer #clone trooper boil #boxer #waxyboil #post war au #tcw #star wars: the clone wars #clone haven sotm #cloneshipping

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