#because it's attached to mother / the living room windows and not me

[hellishjoel]

off to the races

6.3k / dbf!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

series summary: You and your parents rent a lakeside cabin, Joel and Sarah Miller are your neighbors. You’re all grown up, and you’ll do anything to prove to Joel you’re a woman now. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s while Joel is in his 40’s), alcohol consumption, slight daddy issues lol, cursing, use of pet names, dominant!joel, maybe a lil brat tamer!joel, oral sex (m receiving), a lil praise kink, a lil degradation kink, facial, etc. you know ;)

A/N: needed to get cool slutty daddy out of my system. He’s just a Lana coded man!! I plan on turning this into a series, I hope it get's some love! let me know what you think by sending me an ask!

Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too.  “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-”  His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?! “But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

Summers in Danbury were what you looked forward to all year long when you were younger. You would love the long drive to the lakeside cabin, swimming in the dazzling blue water all day, and catching fireflies at night before ending it with roasting s'mores over the campfire. 

Now, all Danbury reminded you of were your parents stripping your feeling of independence as soon as you stepped in their embrace and the lack of cell service. 

It wasn’t all that bad, though. Who were you to complain about an all-expense paid vacation on the water? Your parents were fine, you just graduated from university, everything was just.. good. It almost made you a little bored, thinking about the impending summer. 

The warm sun’s kiss on your skin was a welcomed greeting after spending the past 9 months away at school out of state, your eyes twinkling below your sunglasses as you stepped out of the car. It was good to be back in Texas.

“Look, there she is!” Your dad cooed as he was eager to point out the sign that sat beside the entrance of the cabin that read ‘Life is Better at the Cabin’. Cheesy. It wasn’t your choice of decor since it was just a rental property, but still. You also despised the ‘The Secret Ingredient is Always Love’ sign in the kitchen. 

You plopped your bags down at the end of your bed, the one just down the hall from your parents, quick to plug in your phone charger though it made little difference with your lack of a strong signal. 

You turned your head to the window, seeing an old, beaten pickup truck turn onto gravel, a small smile peaking on your lips. 

“Hey, look who it is!” Your dad cheered eagerly from the living room, appearing to also be gazing out the window at the sight coming down the road and pulling into the house next to yours. 

The truck in question belonged to Joel Miller and his daughter, Sarah. Sarah had been your close friend each and every summer since you were little. You two were attached at the hip once your family started vacationing here, despite her being a fair five years younger. You two got along nonetheless. 

You stepped outside to greet them, as your mother and father were already out doing, your face lighting up as Sarah made a b-line to your embrace. “Oh my god! Look at you!” She praised, her eyes lighting up at your appearance. 

You two didn’t get the chance to spend the past few summers together due to business with school or internships on your part, so her surprise in seeing you a few years grown up was warranted. 

“Look at me? Look at you!” You said through punched lungs as she hugged you so tight you were losing your breath. 

If you thought Sarah’s tight hug was bad, you weren’t prepared to see what was waiting on the other side of the pickup truck. 

Your lips parted at the sight of Joel Miller. He was sort of… handsome. Was that wrong to think that? I mean, he was so much older than you, someone’s dad, Sarah’s dad. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long but his voice pitched into the conversation and you had been caught. 

“Hey, Skids.” Ugh. That dreaded nickname you had yet to wear off. “Haven’t seen you these past few summers. Happy to be done with school?” Joel’s southern drawl was a shock to your system after being up in the Midwest for school. 

He was tall and rugged, so unkempt. His hair was tousled everywhere and his beard was growing with salt and pepper stippling through the landscape of his jawline. He looked hot, the faint glisten and stain of sweat marking the collar of his shirt and at the sides of his biceps. 

You blinked a few times before a graceful smile fluttered on your lips.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You gently cooed. What? If he could call you by that horrid nickname he had given you when you were barely ten, you could call him by his surname. Your eyes caught his own shift, his jaw twitching at his name being called like that. It was just his name after all, right? 

“Joel.” He corrected with a raised eyebrow, your eyes finally dragging themselves away from his handsome character as they turned to your parents, who were obsessing over Sarah. She was about to go into her senior year of high school, so of course, they had all of the basic questions to ask her. Are you taking any advanced classes? Are you still on the swim team? Do you know where you want to go to college?

You tried to look interested, but you could still feel Joel’s gravitating stare in your direction. 

You were just imagining things, right? He was looking one foot over, to Sarah and your family. Except he wasn’t. You know because you snuck a casual glance over to him, and he was still on you. His gaze alone made a shiver travel up your spine. 

While Sarah and your parents were nestled in their own world of conversation, you take a few subtle steps away and join him by his truck. It still felt warm, the engine relaxing after a good drive in the Texas heat. 

“You need a new truck. She looks like she’s on her deathbed.” You point out, the one corner of his mouth tugging up as he kept his eye on Sarah and your folks with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. 

“She’s just fine.” He retorts nonchalantly. You hated that about him. You could never figure out what he was thinking, unpredictable but not exactly chaotic. 

“She?” You asked with raised eyebrows. “I always knew you had a special woman in your life. Didn’t know she was so old, though.” You egged him on, your favorite pastime in the summers; Grinding the gears of an old man who had a bigger attitude than you most days. 

“You still have quite the mouth on you. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.” Joel said sarcastically as he pushed himself off the front of the truck with his hip, his head nodding off to the side in a silent way of telling you to follow him. You watched as he pulled down the tailgate, rust screeching until it stopped with a generous thump. 

“Supposed to be Sarah helping me with this, but since she’s busy being Miss Danbury, you can help me.” He said as he pointed to some firewood and other bigger pieces of wood in varying sizes. 

“What do you plan on doing with all this wood anyway? I think the Amazon is looking for it.” You huffed but climbed up into the back of the truck bed without him asking you to. His protective hand instinctively guided your hip for stability, and you felt a rush of air pump through your lungs. “Thanks.” You murmur before you start reaching for stacks you could handle. 

“Sarah wanted to throw y'all a bonfire with it being your first day back for the summer or what have you.” Before you could stop yourself, you were already cooing at him as you jumped down from the tailgate, watching as Joel gave a tight face of annoyance. Don’t do that, you’re gonna get yourself hurt. 

It took Joel all of two seconds to grab two of the larger cut pieces, throwing each of them onto his shoulders. You couldn’t help but stare at his biceps that cradled the wood, the tan skin and muscles popping out of the dark green t-shirt he wore. Focus, focus, focus, focus, focusfocusfocus. 

“And the bigger pieces? What are those for?” You asked out of sheer curiosity now once he threw them down in the back of his lawn, the sight of your parents and Sarah long gone. 

He shrugged and shook his head, his hands on his hips as a layer of sweat started to build up around his hairline. “Just carvin’ projects. The rest can be used for scrap lumber around the lake properties.” His head finally turned to look at you, his eyes raking you up and down for a moment before nodding to your lake house rental. “Doin’ property maintenance over the summer on the houses ‘round here.”

“So if we need maintenance, we call you now?” You asked with a dubious face, to which he nodded. 

This man never stopped. It made sense, you supposed. You reflected on the summers in the past, knowing Joel to manage his own contracting business and picking up odd jobs around town. You remember one summer, he redid the flooring of an old bakery in town and then built custom shelves for the loaves of bread and bagels. Another summer, he repaved people’s driveways with blacktop. He was a laborer, a blue-collar man through and through. 

“That’s right, Skids.” The nickname made you scowl at him again, but you wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller laid under your kitchen sink or repairing the window in your bedroom so it could finally let in some fresh air. Frankly, you just wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller. 

After Joel reclaimed his daughter from your parents with a snarky yet subtle, Thanks for all your help, kiddo to Sarah, he said goodbye to you and your family as everyone parted ways back to their own homes. 

-

You were tired from the drive, but you didn’t lack attendance to the bonfire Sarah was putting together specifically for you in a welcome back to Danbury! sort of celebration. She invited the other nearby neighbors, so by the time you finally joined, it was packed with people sitting around the fire. People who lived on the lake loved a good party, anything with beer to keep them occupied. 

It was a lot of talking and bottles clinking, marshmallows on sticks, and a crackling fire blazing at the center of everyone. You weren’t one for beer but Sarah insisted on feeding you bottle after bottle. 

She liked sharing secrets with you, away from her dad. She considered you someone she could tell anything to. And you felt the same way. So not more than half an hour later, you two were giggling and sitting on the tailgate of Joel’s old pickup truck when you saw him start to saunter over.  You saw him coming first, snatching Sarah’s bottle out of her hand and taking a sharp inhale as you hid away your own. Sarah’s secret, right? 

“Dad,” she playfully whined when he came over to bust their little party. 

He was silent for a moment before he looked at the dwindling flames. “Fire’s gettin’ low.” He pointed out, looking between the two of you.

His face was lit up in a mix of gold hue from the fire and silver from the moon. His face had this intensity, a bucked-out jawline, cheekbone, and nose. It was like he was carved from stone. 

Sarah was silent, not wanting to leave behind her friends at the bonfire to shuffle over more wood. You softly nodded as you took a swig of her beer bottle in your hand before setting it down once you hopped off the truck bed. 

“I can help.” You offered. Joel looked down at you hesitantly, sneaking a glance to where your parents sat around the growing circle of people.

“Yeah.. yeah, ‘lright.” Joel said as the two of you walked off to the dividing line on his property, the wood you had dropped carelessly earlier in the day now in a neat stack. You certainly weren’t drunk, but slamming Sarah’s beer along with the other ones she ushered you before was now messing with your head, the edges of your vision a little fuzzy, especially in the dark since the glow of the bonfire was at such a distance. 

Before you knew it, you were stacking the wood into your arms, too much maybe. Joel called out your name in a warning tone. 

“No, I got it! See?” You tried to reason with a cocky smile as he shook his head. 

“You don’t like to listen.” He gruffly said as he started picking up the smaller pieces as they fell out of your arms. 

You couldn’t help the playful scoff that left your lips, still insistent on stacking more in your arms, going as far as tucking some in your elbows but all they did was drop at your feet once you went to reach for more. 

“Stop bein’ so damn difficult.” He piped up again as he snagged your wrist, halting your movements. 

“Yeah? I thought you liked difficult women.” Your words were fast like a whip, your eyes challenging his own as the two of you shared unnecessarily long eye contact. 

“Drop-- the wood. Stop bein’ a-” 

“A what?” You challenged. The distance between you two suddenly felt like it was becoming air-tight, his eyes narrowing on yours as his features hardened. He didn’t look mad, lord knows you’d never want to actually make Joel Miller mad. He just looked-- provoked. 

“A brat.” He finally bit, your teeth clenching at the name. The shock of it all made your arms finally burst open like a dam breaching with water, all of them falling to your feet as you let out an involuntary squeal. God, you did not want him to hear that noise leave you like that. 

You finally tugged away your wrist from his hand, your eyes leaving his daggered gaze to examine your palm that had a decent size splinter plunged into the center of it. 

“Shit,” You swore, feeling whatever heat you had left in your body pooling to your stringing finger. 

You heard Joel let out a debated sigh before he took you by your wrist, much more gentle this time, and tried to bring it up closer to his eyes to examine it. 

“Can’t see for shit out here.” He grumbled. You couldn’t see it either but you could feel right where it spread searing pain through the rest of your hand. 

“I got some tweezers in my workshop, I’ll get it out.” Joel offered as he started walking a few paces but you let out an involuntary whimper at the sound of him taking it out. 

“You don’t want that to get infected, do you?” He asked with a true voice of reason, to which you let out a sigh of agreement and followed him to his workshop.

You had only been inside Joel’s workshop a handful of times. You remember once your dad dragged you over so he could talk to Joel about his truck, and you had to wait there and wait there until they finished gabbing. Another time was when you explored it on your own, your eyes fascinated by the little world he surrounded himself in. It wasn’t all wood like you’d expect it to be. He had old guns mounted on the wall, ladders hung up in the rafters, and dusty old fishing plaques that made you disgusted at the sight. It housed his tools, the same ones he had been using for years. He knew where they were by heart, not even looking when he reached for something. Everything had its place, down to the tweezers he immediately found in an old little toolbox. 

“Here,” he said as he pointed to an old metal stool as tall as your waist. You sat down on the cold metal, a little hiss of discomfort leaving you as he sighed. “Always somethin’.” Joel shook his head and offered you a spare dusty blanket, shaking your head. 

“Just-- fix my hand. Please.” You said as you displayed your palm to him, now seeing it in the light for the first time. Okay.. it didn’t actually look as bad as it felt. Joel actually smiled as he looked at the tiny sliver shoved into the skin. 

“..Might have to amputate it.” He said with a half-serious tone, as joking as Joel could sound. But there was a little glint in his eye, one of satisfaction from his own joke.  

“Joel Miller has a sense of humor? I’m surprised. And pleasantly delighted.” You teased as he huffed and shook his head, the smile that graced his lips already came and gone. Sort of. He just looked down at your hand so you couldn’t directly see it anymore. 

It took you until now to see that he changed out of his dark green shirt from this afternoon and into an old 80’s rock band shirt with a worn dark navy flannel over it. He must have showered after laboring in the Texas heat. The thought made your stomach churn in excitement. 

You shivered at how cold you felt all of a sudden, no longer by the warm fire and on this damn metal stool. You shifted uncomfortably on it, cursing yourself for wearing jean shorts. 

Joel let out an exasperated sigh as he stood up straighter and shoved off his flannel, your eyes softening at the sight. 

“You want me to take tweezers to your hand but you keep... shiftin’ around. Stand up.” He directed, and this time you didn’t debate with him. You hopped off the metal stool and he laid down the flannel. It was a nice gesture and you were grateful. You hoped the goosebumps were from the temperature, not how close he was. 

Joel pulled up another metal stool so he could steady himself, reeling himself in as close as he could and holding your palm open in his as his eyes squinted a little bit. 

You felt frozen in place, your lips parting as you slowly looked down to one of his knees that parted between your own legs. Fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the little buzz of beer still in your system but something drove you to have enough courage to gently lay your hand just above his kneecap. 

His eyes flicked up to yours, trying to read what was behind your thought process right now. He looked so confident, you feared you looked all shifty. 

You could feel the worn denim of his jeans under your palm but underneath, he was warm. He was as hot as a furnace as your body craved it. 

“The sliver.” You pointed back out, your voice smaller since you two were in such close proximity. You watched his chest heave as he took a deep breath, grumbling something under his breath before he focused back to his initial task. 

You pursed your lips as you both watched and felt the tweezers line up to the red and irritated skin, his movements precise and patient until you watched him clench the tool closed. 

You let out an involuntary breath of both relief and anticipation, just wanting it out already. 

“Hold on, just gotta make sure I..” Joel’s voice trailed off as he slowly pulled the tiny sliver from your palm, an uncomfortable whine leaving the back of your throat. 

His thigh twitched under your palm at the sound, not even realizing your hand had sunk higher up his jean-clad thigh. 

“Got it.” He finally said, swiping the tip of the tweezer on the table to display the nasty little piece of wood that had caused you all this grief. You let out a breath through your nostrils and nodded. 

“Thank God, no amputation.” You joked, to which he awarded you a small smile. 

“I’ll call the surgeon and tell ‘em to turn around. We’re good here.” Joel said as he gently released your wrist. You watched his features carefully, seeing his lips part as he glanced down to his leg that your hand still held for balance. 

“What’er you doin’?” He finally asked, his voice dropping an octave at the question. Shit. 

Don’t read this wrong, or this will be the most awkward interaction you and Joel have had to date. This is worse than when he saw you fall out of the inner tube while boating, worse than when some kid tripped you at the town barbeque, worse than when you fell off Sarah’s scooter so hard that he gave you the nickname Skids. 

“Woah, Skids! Better slow down!” God, that was so many years ago. His chuckle still echoed in your ears.

Now you were older, you were a woman. You had long legs and glowing skin, and a smile that knocked guy’s out of the fuckin’ park! But he was older too, older than you, younger than your dad but god, not by much. You were so close to him, you could inhale the distant smell of the bonfire, the one he probably made instead of Sarah. He also smelled like an old spice deodorant and fucking cigarettes. 

He was stingy, and greasy, and hot, and Joel. 

Your years of anticipation thinking about him like this was over. 

You bit down on your lower lip, your mind was foggy with the rushing in your heart,  feeling your ears pound and your palm still seared. He was a head taller than you while you sat together, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his pulse. 

Your lips lingered around his neck for a moment, the sensitive skin of your mouth feeling beard stubble and tasting distant cologne. Your breath fanned over the skin, clammy but sweet with his sweat. 

He didn’t stop you, his eyes merely watching you carefully. 

“What’er you doin’?” He asked again, but this time, his words sounded more-- goading. Do it, I know you won’t. You’re chicken shit. If you know what you want, do it. 

Your heart raced as you nearly leaped off the stool, closing the distance between you two as you stood between his legs. Your hand moved higher on his thigh, so close that you were nearly touching the leather of his belt. Your mouth returned to the sweet spot of his pulse while your injured hand reached up to the opposite side of his neck to gently hold him there. 

“Joel,” you whispered his name breathlessly, asking him for more, feeling his head drop down beside yours. You feared you embarrassed yourself, he wasn’t reciprocating, he wasn’t--

The thoughts brewing in your head bubbled down to a boil as his firm arm wrapped itself low around your waist, keeping you to his front as he pulled down to look at you with a stern look on his face.. You were so fucked. 

Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too. 

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-” 

His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?!

“But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

His words surprised you. He didn’t think he could walk away from you right now? Holy shit. 

Your heart was pumping so hard under his watchful gaze, seeing his eyes look from yours to your parted lips. But he didn’t kiss you, you don’t think you would let him. It felt too intimate. You just didn’t want another boring summer in Danbury and you were determined to have a fling. 

Who knew it would be with Joel Miller. But you wanted him. 

Your brave hands took him by the chest of his shirt, your mouth moving to his jawline as you balanced the tightrope of kissing and nibbling on the skin before your hands moved south to find his belt buckle. 

His legs naturally parted for you, catching a brief smirk on his lips as you took control of the situation. 

“Dirty girl goin’ right for my fuckin’ cock.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, a desperate nod leaving you while your cheek involuntarily rubbed against the stubble of his beard. You didn’t know he talked like that.

You initiated more space for yourself, nudging the inside of his thighs with your own legs as you had his back up against his drafting table with you no longer on his side but standing in front of him. 

Your quick fingers desperately undid his belt, feeling the old leather under your fingers. You didn’t have the balls to look at him and frankly, you were afraid you would lose your nerve if you did. 

His hands were encouraging for your nervous system, firm palms planted into your hips and even going as far as to squeeze the flesh that sat under your jean shorts. His body warmed you up, his eyes admiring you as you plucked open the button on his jeans. 

You pushed your tongue against your cheek in concentration, all of a sudden desperate at the thought of having him in your mouth. You dragged down the zipper, the relaxed denim exposing the black briefs he wore underneath that hugged his tan hips. 

You slowly sunk to your knees before him, as if you were worshiping a God. Maybe you were, it was Joel Miller, after all.

“This what you were learnin’ off at school?” Joel belittled, your head doing a few quick nods as a flush stained your cheeks. God. Something about Joel calling you a slut had you in a tailspin. You couldn’t wait anymore. 

Your fingers delicately felt over the impressive growth that his briefs held down, biting down on your bottom lip as you let your pointer finger make the outline of his girth. 

He let out an audible grunt at the action, his jaw jutted out, and his eyes filled with lust. “Lemme see that pretty mouth.” He practically purred, your chest rising and falling in anticipation as you slowly opened your mouth for him. You felt the intrusion of his thumb, a guttural moan leaving your throat as your big eyes stayed on his. He pinched at the inside of your cheek for a moment, your eyes twinging closed and opening back up with twinkling tears on the brim of flowing. 

“Good girl, keep that mouth open for me.” He encouraged as he pushed two fingers past your lips, testing you. And you were more than willing to accept his little challenge. His fingers pushed on the back of your tongue, feeling your lips graze all the way to his knuckle as you worked on breathing through the feeling of his fingers shoved down your throat. 

You were determined for him not to get the best of you, to prove how you had some experience under your belt. Your tongue willingly swirled around his digits, humming softly as you suckled. Now it was his turn to look like he was ready to fold. You felt him swell in your hand, the hand still stroking over his erection in his briefs. 

He ripped back his fingers, leaving them with a pop to your lips. Holy shit. You took a few deep breaths and swallowed, blinking back the tears that his fingers provoked from going so far down. 

“Damn, baby, look so pretty down on your knees for me. Don’t make me wait ‘ny longer.” Joel’s breaths were heavy, his southern drawl exaggerated in his lust-filled state. 

A proud smirk laced on your lips, his eyes on you as he watched you pry down the material of his briefs, watching as he lightly lifted his hips off the stool and using the drafting table behind him as leverage to let his jeans and boxers rest comfortably around the top of his thighs. What you had been craving slapped eagerly into the palm of your uninjured hand, an unexpected little moan leaving you. 

You studied his cock with anticipation, the glowing pinkish-red tip glistening with pre-cum from all the anticipation. He was generous in size, he would be the biggest you had ever taken. He was just… grown. You let out a satisfied little mmm, smirking up at him as your fist wrapped delicately around the base as you pumped over just the bottom half of him. 

Your hand came up to push some hair behind your ear but Joel was quick to handle that for you, stroking the stray pieces back behind your ear and then planting his palm right on the top side of your head. He tried to guide you closer but you just continued to smirk at him, a desperate grunt leaving the back of his throat. 

“Don’t play with me, kitten.” The nickname had you fawning, much better than the other nickname he had given you in the past. Maybe this new one would replace the old, the girl he dismissed before now a woman whose attention he craved. 

You guided his tip to gently tap at your flattened tongue, using his base to guide him until you generously wrapped your mouth around his leaking head. He let out a satisfied hiss which made you smirk, knowing you were the one making him dance on the line between pain and pleasure. 

You let out an involuntary mewl as the fist he had made in the back of your hair forced you further down his rigid member, feeling wet tears threatening to spill over your waterline as his tip nudged against the back of your throat. He said not to play with him and you disobeyed. 

Your palms flattened to the front of his thighs as you pushed yourself off of him, gasping for air as you swallowed the mixture of your spit and his leakage that clogged your throat. 

“So fuckin’ pretty chokin’ on me like that, such a pretty face.” He sneered, referring to your teary eyes. But the compliment made you blush and the choking and sobbing was all of a sudden worth it for the praise. 

After that, you craved to take all of him just like he wanted. Your head worked in subtle bobs, taking inch by inch of him at a time. Sometimes his hand in your hair guided you, allowing you to take him with confidence as he let out disgusting groans and low moans. 

Your gluck, gluck, glucks filled the shed, hot pants leaving your mouth around him but not willing to let your head up. Trails of your saliva attached themselves from his balls to your lips, the sight being a trophy for your hard earned deep throating. He was already so close, you couldn’t bear not to taste the prize you had worked so hard for. 

All of a sudden, Joel stood up from his seat at the drafting table and you couldn’t help but show a look of disappointment. You thought he was done, going to leave you like a mess on the floor with bruises on your knees from the cold concrete and your slobbery mouth feeling his loss. 

Your wet eyelashes fluttered as he returned to fist the hair at the top of your head and angled your face upward, watching as his other hand yanked on his member. The sight made your jaw drop. 

“Where do you want me to finish?” His words were pained, stretched thin as he tried to hold out for an answer from you. But you wanted him to finish, you wanted to watch his face contort from the wake of his orgasm that you helped create. 

“Mmm,” you hummed out as you purposefully prolonged his finish, watching as his chest puffed and his skin grew rosy from the heat flooding his body. Your cockiness was punished by a tighter grip in your hair, yanking your head closer to his shaft to force a real answer out of you. Your scalp stung but only a smile was on your face. 

“You wanna cum on my face, Mr. Miller?” You asked in the most innocent tone you could muster, your mouth parting at the sight of him. He looked heavenly. The glow from his shed lights made him appear as if he had an angelic glow. But you knew he was hellish, nothing close to an angel. 

Joel let out a scoffy little grunt at your question, a wicked smile gracing his lips as his hooded eyes slowly fell completely closed as the shock of his orgasm coursed through his body. 

You eagerly watched and you hated how hungry you knew you looked right now. You licked your lips, eager for his taste, eager to make the Joel Miller cum. You were desperate. 

His cock began twitching in his hand, watching as he methodically yanked out his own orgasm. His eyes lazily glanced between his shaft and to your large eyes, slowly smirking at the sight of you holding out for him. 

“Let me see that tongue, darlin’.” His words were breathy, just on the edge of no return. You obeyed, dropping your jaw and flashing him your tongue as you fluttered your eyelashes. At the sight alone, he finished himself off with eager grunts and short moans, you swore one of them was your name. 

His hot cum landed on your face, your eyes closing in satisfaction with a cocky smile. Most landed on your tongue, a few piping hot white strands splattered like paint on your cheeks and nose. All the air in your lungs left you as he tapped his pulsing tip eagerly against your tongue, watching with his jaw slack as he let the rest pool onto your tongue and down your throat. 

You swallowed knowing he was watching, his hand in your hair relaxing. He tasted better than you expected, a new craving. 

Instead of fisting your strands, he started stroking them away from your messy face, praising you as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Both no longer in the hot fantasy you swore you imagined once, you tried to collect yourselves. You shakily stood up from the ground, your knees cold from the concrete. You wipe off any dust or dirt they may have collected, sneaking glances at Joel as he fastened his belt around his waist once more and popping the button of his jeans back into place. 

You glanced around for a tissue, your back to him as you cleaned up your face. Oh my god, you were wiping Joel Miller’s cum off your fucking face.  As the two of you pieced yourselves back together, he reached for his discarded flannel that he had given you still resting on the metal chair you previously abandoned before settling between his legs. 

“Said you were cold. Take it.” He said as he fisted some of the material and looked at you expectantly. You sighed before gently taking the material and wrapping yourself in its warmth. 

As he placed a bandaid on your palm to cover your futile wound, you admired the flannel in all of its unknown beauty. 

It was one of his older ones, you sort of felt bad because you could only assume it was one of his favorites. It adorned a few minor holes and rips, some of which were badly stitched back together in an attempt to salvage it for another few years. Despite its appearance, you melted into it because it smelled like him. It smelled smoky like his cigarettes or maybe that was just the residual smoke from the bonfire. As you walked outside, you could smell it clearer.

Sandalwood with a hint of cinnamon, you wondered what cologne he used. 

Your head was lost in thought as you began to wander back towards the bonfire, a sharp clearing of his throat bringing you back to your senses. You whipped around, seeing as he pointed to the stray wood you had dropped from earlier.

“Oh-” you said bashfully as you returned to the pile with him, both of you knelt down picking up stray pieces. Once you started piling the wood in your arms again, he let out a short chuckle from deep inside him as he held your wrist from stacking more. 

“That’s enough for now, just go.” You liked seeing his face lit up like that, knowing you were the cause of it being even better. 

“Okay, Mr. Miller.” You cooed quietly, his face hardening at the name of adoration you had given him. 

“Okay, Skids. I’ll be seein’ you.” He said with a tight nod of his head, his eyes directing you back to the fire. You set down the firewood by the rocks surrounding it as a barrier, clearing your throat as you returned to the tailgate. You could still taste his cum on your tongue. 

No one seemed to notice your trip taking unexpectedly longer than necessary. Your parents were both swaying their heads and laughing, empty bottles by the legs of their folding lawn chairs to explain their obvious lack of awareness. 

Sarah had joined up with other friends in your absence, but you didn’t mind. 

You finally had a moment to reflect on what had just taken place in Joel’s shed. You let your vacation house neighbor cum in your mouth. Your older, stoic, stubborn ass of a neighbor. 

As if on cue, Joel returned to the side of his truck with his body leaning against the tailgate. His jean-clad hip lightly grazed your thigh, glancing over to see him offering you a beer. 

“Since you’re all grown up now.” He said with a little spark behind his eyes. You nodded and took the opened beer with a growing smile. 

“Cheers.” He offered as he held out his bottle to clink with yours. 

“Cheers to another summer in Danbury.” You tell him. 

He cocked his eyebrow and glanced over to you one more time before he focused his eyes on the growing fire. 

“This one ain’t quite like the rest.” It almost sounded like a promise from him. You hoped it was. Because you were wearing his flannel and you were on his knees for him tonight, you wondered what experience of Joel could offer you this summer. 

---

read part 2 - dark paradise!

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[frenziedslashers]

Hi there! I would like a request a OS about Peter B Parker x Fem! Reader as a married couple Smut (Reader is Mayday's mother). The Reader is like Starfire (An alien superheroine and a beautiful hot like fire (literally, since her powers comes from the sun) person married to a human) Like Malewife and Girlboss...So when Peter comes home, she's taking care of her daughter meanwhile he was on patrol, so she put her daughter on bed time. She wants to have a night of "fun" with her husband. Taking good care of him with a bath and a dinner so then the "fun" can come. With a purple robe and a sexy lavender lingerie. I can leave the smut part to you with some recommendations Lactation Kink, Praise kink, "Mommy" kink, Oral (Female and male receiving), Creampie, maybe 69 position...

Take good care 🥰

Early Nights Off;;

A/N: Dude, I am literally blowing you kisses and hugging you platonically through my laptop rn. I was smiling and kicking my feet when I saw that you nearly instantly sent me a request for Peter. I am so in love with him, I love my silly goofy DILFs hehe. I have never written for a lactation kink before so I will not be doing that as I do not know how and Idk how comfortable I am with it LMAO I will try and interoperate the rest into this for you though. Thank you again, literally my savior for my brain rot rn. HE IS SO MALEWIFE THOUGH, YOU ARE SO REAL. I hope this is good enough, this is my first Peter fic haha.

Warnings: Breeding Kink (I just know he has one after Mayday.), Praise Kink, "Mommy" Kink sort of?, Oral (F and M Receiving), Creampie (Wrap it before you tap it guys), Reader is an alien (Not proofread, sorry lmao)

Any other day it would be easy for Peter to patrol the city all night. Even if the crime activity was little to nothing. He could spend all day and night swinging from building to building. It beat sitting at home with nothing to do.

Except now he had a reason to be home. Even before the two of you had Mayday, and it was just you. He found himself crawling through the window of your shared apartment earlier and earlier each night. You were his weakness, and he was never ashamed to admit it.

After you gave him his first kid though. There were some nights that he wouldn't go out at all. Too enraptured by baby Mayday to even think about leaving your cozy home. Playing with the baby. Watching you nurture and care for her. Being a dad was something he enjoyed a lot more than he ever thought he would. He had Miles to thank for breaking his fear of kids.

Tonight was one of his early nights. Calling it quits after all he found for crime activity was a man robbing a woman of her purse. Cliché and typical, but he put a stop to it nonetheless. Getting the woman's purse back while also tying the attacker up in front of the New York Police Department with a letter attached to him.

'Caught him robbing a lady, you're welcome. - Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.'

He wondered if they ever actually took in and charged the people he left on their doorstep like that. Or if they simply untied them and let them run because they had no proof they actually did anything wrong? That was a question for another time, though. Right now he was focused on opening the bedroom window. Crawling in and shutting it behind him to keep the muggy air outside from entering the room.

He was quick to take the suit off. Figuring he wouldn't need it for the rest of the night. Pulling a grey shirt on that hung on the side of the bed. Keeping only his boxers on to allow his body to cool down from the warmer conditions outside.

You were in the living room. Comfortable pajamas on while you lulled Mayday to sleep in your arms. A soft hum leaving your throat as you rocked her back and forth. He had to stop and watch for a while. Leaning against the door frame that led him from your shared room to the living room.

"You're back early," you cooed. At times he wished you didn't have the ability to sense him like he could you. It was nice sometimes, though. Not at times that he wanted to just sit and watch you mother his baby.

"I missed my beautiful girls," he murmured, that smug smile gracing his features. You were glad to have looked up and seen it.

"Well, I just fed her and got her to sleep." you informed, and he nodded. Licking his lips while his eyes raked over you. Practically undressing you and imagining all the things he could do to you right now. It had been so long since the two of you had any time to each other. That seemed to be one of the few, if not only down falls to being parents. Sex felt scarce, but that didn't mean it was totally absent from your lives.

"I think I might shower while you lay her down," he spoke, shifting his feet as he went to turn back for the bathroom down the hall. "Or I could run you a bath while I make you something to eat?" you offered and he just couldn't say no.

He smiled, nodding his head while staring you down. So much love and adoration was in his eyes. He was perfect. Mayday was perfect. You were perfect.

"What man could say no to that offer?" He snickered, to which you rolled your eyes. Smiling fondly at your husband while you stood to your feet. Kissing his cheek when you made it over to him. "I'll get that bath running then," you hummed. Heading for Maydays room to put her to bed. Shutting the door behind you before you scurried off for the bathroom. Swaying your hips a little more than normal since you knew he was staring.

He was, too. His eyes eating you up like candy while they took in your form. God, he could eat you alive.

The water was the perfect temperature. The soaps that you put in it had him melting into the atmosphere. Everything was perfect. He couldn't ask for anything better. When you came walking in with food, and that skimpy bathrobe that drove him crazy. He was certain you were praying on his downfall.

"You spoil me," he told you as he took a plate from your hand. Watching as you sat on the edge of the tub with your own plate in hand. The both of you eating together. Peter a little more eager than you. He loved his food.

"Only because you spoil me in return," you grinned. He raised a questioning brow. Taking a bite of the Mac and Cheese that you warmed up from the night before. "How? I don't make enough money to spoil you. You spoil me more that I do you, and it's a little unfair," he pouted a bit. He hated the fact that he couldn't spoil you like he wanted to, but you never seemed to mind. Everything was fine the way it was.

"You find your ways, Pete," you hummed as you put your plate on the sink counter. Climbing off the tub so you could kneel on the floor next to the tub. His eyes were glued to yours. A questioning glint to them that begged for you to explain further.

"You don't need money to spoil someone. You pamper me with little things. Like your affection and how romantic you can be," you smiled, because he truly was a sap. He loved spending nights cuddling with you. Kissing over your body while reminding you how beautiful you were. Praising you for carrying his baby. Your baby. Making dinner for you on the nights that you couldn't bring yourself to. Or simply taking you and Mayday to the park to get some ice-cream and be a family.

"If it weren't for you, I probably would have never had little Mayday, either," you admitted, and he raised a brow. "Really?" He questioned, and you nodded.

"I never really wanted kids. Not until we started dating. You made me realize that I don't need to be scared of that sort of commitment ever again. You gave me a beautiful daughter," he felt his heart racing at your words. "I never really wanted a kid before you, either. It scared me, being a superhero and all." You both chuckled at that. Staring at one another for a moment or two.

"I guess we both spoiled each other in that department," you told him, and he nodded. "Guess so."

When Peter and yourself finally finished eating, that's when you helped him wash his hair. Something that he was going to do himself, but when you offered to do so. He just laid back and let you.

Your fingers pulled through his hair. Nails scratching his scalp just right while you spread the shampoo. A soft moan leaving his lips while his eyes fell shut. It had you smiling to yourself. Biting your bottom lip to try and keep it from growing any wider.

You leaned in to press a kiss to his shoulder. Your hands trailing down his chest while you leaned in closer to his ear. Peter's eyes opening when he felt your breath on his ear. His eyes trailing down to your chest. Catching a glimpse of the lavender bra under your bathrobe. The thought of you in lingerie had him grunting. His cock twitching to life under the water. It had been too long since the two of you had done anything like this. Something that wasn't a quickie before he left for work after his lunch break, while Mayday was down for her afternoon nap.

"God, I love you so much," he muttered, and you giggled. Pressing a kiss to his temple. "Scoot down so I can wash your hair out, goofball," you teased, and he felt his heart thumping. "Yes Ma'am."

Once his hair was all washed it was time for him to call it a night. Eyes begging for you to take him to the bedroom so you could both fuck like rabbits. Before Mayday that's what it felt like you two were. Primal Animals that only knew how to fuck or make love. Whatever mood Peter was in that night deciphered how he screwed you.

Tonight he wanted to pamper you. To really spoil you since he knew you planned to do the same to him. Gosh, "I'd do anything to be between those thighs," He murmured out loud. A dumbstruck look on his face. He hadn't even noticed he said it out loud, and you knew it. A giggle escaping your lips while you leaned forward. Ghosting your lips over his. "Not if I'm between yours first," you cooed, and he shuddered.

His face was a slight red out of embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say that to you out loud, but it wouldn't be the first lewd thing he'd ever said to you. Peter was fairly good at telling you what he wanted and how he wanted to do it. The more lust filled he got, the less of a sensor he had.

It was like a race for the both of you. Peter standing from the tub while flicking the switch so the water would drain. Scrambling out of it while you laughed and giggled with him. The both of you doing your best to be quiet so Mayday wouldn't wake up.

You ran for the bedroom. Feet pattering against the wooden floor while he did the same. Shutting the door behind himself before he pulled you in for a kiss that he craved. One that you both craved, really.

"I know you're wearing it," he spoke against your lips. Pulling the string of your bath robe so it would fall open. He was quick to pull back so he could see your frame better. "You still like it?" You asked, and he was quick to nod. His fingers running up your sides to your breasts. Giving them both a light squeeze with a groan. "Baby, I never want you to take it off," he chuckled, and you both knew that was a lie. By the end of the night he'd have it ripped off you and in a pile on the floor.

His lips came in contact with your neck. Fiery touches that you would never get used to. Your own powers were controlled by the sun, yet this heat was always so unfamiliar to you. So nice.

"Peter," you sighed as he sucked on your skin. Your body jolting when his fingers pinched your nipples through your bra. "You're so gorgeous, you know that?" He asked against your skin. Licking over your collar bone. You chuckled with a nod, "You tell me all the time," "Yeah, well I don't say it damn near enough." You rolled your eyes at his comment, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "Yeah, and I don't tell you how good of a boy you are for me enough, either," he let out a grumble of a moan against your skin. It was so easy to rile him up, you loved it.

"May I?" You asked, ghosting your fingertips over his shaft, and he nodded. "Words, Peter," you demanded, and he shuddered. "Yes... Yeah, please," he mewled, and you snickered. He was already a mess.

You shrugged the robe off, allowing it to fall to the floor to give his hands more access to your skin. Your hand quick to reach between your lovers legs and grab him. Giving him a slow stroke before stopping to squeeze the base. His head fell onto your shoulder. A sigh leaving his lips while he gripped your hips.

"I need you," he called, "God, I need you so bad, don't tease me," he cried a little, and you had half a mind to listen, but you didn't want to. You had other plans for the night. You wanted to draw out this time you both had together for as long as you could.

"No," you purred, and the whine that he let out was heavenly. "Now, don't pout, Petey," you purred, "be a good boy for me and I'll reward you," he nodded frantically. He just wanted you to carry on and do something. Anything.

When you started to drop to your knees he felt his heart stutter in his chest. Everywhere your hands grazed as you slid down to the floor was on fire. At this point he couldn't tell if it was from his excitement, or if you were doing it yourself.

Your hand stroked his shaft a couple more times. Peter watching with excited eyes. His thighs shaking while he fought the urge to thrust forward.

"You can touch me, Peter," you told him, and he nodded. His shaky hands coming to tangle in your hair. One staying on the top of your head while the other came to cup the side of your face.

"Will you be good?" You asked, and he nodded. "I know you will," you hummed, kissing his hip. Listening to the moan that left his throat just from having your lips so close to where he wanted you the most. He craved you to the point that it hurt.

When you did finally reach his cock, the noise he made was unreal. Your eyes darting up to his with warning. One of his hands shot up to cover his mouth. A soft 'sorry, my love,' falling from his lips. He truly didn't mean to be as loud as he was. He could never help it. He prayed that one day the two of you could find a babysitter for Mayday so neither of you had to hold back as much as you both did.

Your head bobbed and he felt his knees shaking all ready. His brow knitting together while his chest began to heave. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were like an angel. On your knees, committing sin. The thought made him shudder. A hum rumbling from his chest while his head lolled to the side. "Feels so... Good," he purred, and you hummed in response. The vibration sending a wave of pleasure through his body. Both hands shooting to the top of your head so he could stable himself. His mouth slightly parted while his vision grew blurry from the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes.

"God, like that, shit," he spewed out words. You knew he was close, even if you couldn't sense it like he could sense your own approaching orgasms. You would know from how many times you've made him cum in your relationship.

You didn't allow him to, though. Another groan leaving his lips while he buckled forward. His hips thrusting forward a little in an attempt to chase your mouth. "Dammit, I was so close," he slurred, and you chuckled. Leaving an open mouthed kiss on the side of his cock. "I know, and you did so good for me baby," you purred, and he whined. He had such mixed feelings for your praising tease. He loved it, but he also despised it.

"How about I reward you now?" You asked, looking up to your lover with a grin. He was quick to nod in agreement. Licking his lips while he waited anxiously for what you had to say next.

"You wanna fill me up tonight?" "You have no idea," he practically growled. The sound of his voice. The switch from whiny to damn near feral. It went straight to your core. Your breath hitching as he helped pull you to your feet. Pushing you back until you were on the bed.

He fell on top of you. Caging your body with his own. Something seemed to snap in his eyes and it excited you more than taking control over him. It wasn't often that you let him be in complete control, but right now. All you could think of is what he had said in the tub.

"You still want your head between my thighs?" You asked, and his eyes were quick to meet yours again. A smirk pulling at his lips while he stared down at you. "I'd live there if I could, baby," you both chuckled a little at this, but you both knew it was true, too. There were some mornings that you'd wake up to his head between your thighs. Eating you like you were his last meal on earth. He'd just give you head if you'd let him. He never really expected anything in return from you.

He lips crashed down onto yours. A kiss that had you both gasping for air when he was done. Teeth on teeth that led to his tongue exploring your mouth.

His hands were on their own mission. Scaling your body. Taking in every dip and curve that you had. Memorizing you like he did every other time he touched you. If he didn't have any other responsibilities, he could stay in this position with you forever. Touching your body while kissing you with fervor.

One of his hands cupped your breast. The other resting on your thigh. His lips finally parting from yours with a string of saliva still connecting you both. A smug and dreamy smile on his face. "I love you," he hummed, and you giggled. "I love you, too," you told him, and his smile grew. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you.

His lips trailed over the top of your breasts. Kissing and sucking. Leaving little marks on the soft skin. His hand on your thigh sliding up your body so he could take both of your breasts in his hands. Squeezing and toying with your sensitive mounds of flesh. Your back arching with soft noises that left your throat. Every sound that you made only fed his ego more than it did before.

His mouth replaced one of his hands. Mouthing over the thin fabric that his your nipples from the air. Saliva wetting your skin through the fabric. A sharp inhale coming from you when he nipped your sensitive skin. Your fingers gripping his shoulders while he teased your body. He knew what drove you crazy. Just like you knew what drove him crazy.

His free hand trailed down to your panties. His hand cupping your sex with a moan. He could feel how hot you were down there and it drove him wild. His middle and index finger running over your mound. Feeling how wet you were through the fabric of the lingerie. It was intoxicating him. Just as much as his touch was intoxicating you.

His mouth switched over to your other breast. Biting the flesh while he pushed your panties to the side to slip his middle finger inside of you. A gasp leaving your throat while you tugged at his hair. "Pete!" you snapped, and he grunted, "'M sorry, you're just so good," he moaned against your skin. His now free hand reaching behind you to undo the bra that kept him from your bare skin. Gibing him the chance to abuse your nipples without the fabric in the way. Though, it didn't last long before his mouth was trailing down your stomach. Leaving wet kisses on his way down.

Once he met your clothed sex with his face he felt himself growing impatient. Nudging your clothed clit with his nose. "You're so pretty like this," he sounded drunk. He practically was. Anytime he had sex he was. He was intoxicated by you. You were his perfect drug.

His fingers hooked your underwear. Pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. Peter blew on your sex. Keeping your legs apart with his strong grip. "Stay still for me, please," he asked, looking up with pleading eyes. Though there was a hint of command behind them that had you clenching around nothing. You only nodded your head in agreement, which had him smiling.

He was quick to get to work. Licking up your slit. Your breath hitching while your fingers tangled in his hair. His hips bucking down into the bed to try and gather some sort of friction for himself.

He licked at your sensitive bud. Licking and sucking until you were squirming and on the verge of tears. Biting the back of your hand to hold back the cries that tried to bleed from your mouth.

"Taste so good," he rambled. Reaching a hand down to push two fingers inside you. Curling them up, then dragging them out. Slipping the digits past his lips to take a taste. Moaning around his fingers before slipping them out. "Heavenly," he sighed, before diving in once again. Lapping you up like a dog.

It wasn't long before you were summing on his tongue. You told him you were close, but he knew. Only abusing your clit until you were convulsing underneath him. If it weren't for you pushing his head away, he would have made you cum again, too.

"Peter, please," you cried, and he looked up from between your legs. "Just one more time," he tried to plea. Leaning down to lick your clit again. Your body jolting at the overstimulating feeling. "Peter, if you aren't inside me in the next ten seconds I swear to God," you snapped, and he smirked. "All right, all right," he chuckled, kissing your stomach before pulling himself up so he was positioned between your thighs.

He moved above you for a moment or two. Just staring down at you with those adoring eyes. You hated how he looked at you sometimes. It made your heart ache and wish that you had met him sooner than you had. He always made you feel so special and so loved.

"I want another kid," he blurted, "Maybe a little boy, he could have your eyes," he daydreamed out loud, and you nearly laughed. Yet, you couldn't. You only stared back up at him. Hearts practically in your eyes while you reached up to cup the sides of his face. "Only if he has your smile," he chuckled at your words. Leaning down to nuzzle your nose with his. "Is that a yes to baby number two?" He snickered, reaching down to rub your stomach. He was obsessed with you, and he couldn't get over the thought of you carrying another one of his kids. He was already crazy for you, but seeing you pregnant with his child? It did things to him, and you knew it, too. He wasn't shy about it.

"You like being a mommy?" He hummed, and you nodded, "Only for you," you chuckled, and he snickered. "You're a good one too. So loving, caring, rewarding," he winked with the last word, and you rolled your eyes. Swatting his chest. "Peter," he shrugged. "You are, I'm glad you are, too. Mommy. It's a good title for you," He cooed, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

"Peter, it's been over ten seconds," you reminded him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Bringing your hips up to meet his. The both of you shuddering at the friction. "All right," he sighed out, but instead of pressing himself inside of you like you wanted. He pulled away from you. A frown settling on your lips. "What?" "Hands and knees, now," you stared for a second. It never ceased to surprise you when he ordered you around, but you never really complained about it either.

Once you were maneuvered around he was quick to pull you closer to him by your hips. Leaning down to kiss the dip of your back. "Gonna fill you full," he murmured against your skin, rubbing the tip of his dick along the slit of your sex.

"Shit, Peter," you wined, leaning down to lay the side of your face on the bed. Peter let out a moan at the position you put yourself in. Ass in the air, face in the sheets. You were gorgeous.

He hushed you, biting his lip while putting his fingers against your lips. You sucked them into your mouth and he swore it was one of the hottest things you've done.

When he pressed inside of you, you both fought to stay quiet. Peter was practically falling apart above you. The thought of fucking a baby into you had him harder than he had expected. His hips giving a few testing rolls to make sure you were wet enough. Only moving when you gave a nod.

His thrusts were slow at first. Rolling against you with rhythm. Until they weren't. Until you begged him to move fasted and he had to listen to you.

Both of his hands were on your hips now. His own hips thrusting in and out of you at a past that had your whole body trembling. You pawed and gripped at the sheets. One of his hands keeping hold of your hip while the other reached for one of your hands. Intertwining his fingers with your own. Even while he was fucking you dumb he showed so much affection for you. It was almost overwhelming.

Peter leant over you. Pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade while he panted and moaned in your ear. The sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. The faster he got the further you got smothered into the bed. He was chasing that high that the both of you craved. When he felt his approaching, he was quick to reach between your thighs to rub your clit with the speed of his thrusts. Bringing the both of you to the highs that you desired. His hips slowing while he rolled out his orgasm and rubbed out your own.

Peter lay limp above you. His chest heaving on top of your back. One hand running up and down your side while the other squeezed and rubbed at your hand.

"One more?" He asked, and you chuckled. "Your libido's too high for your own good, Peter," you sighed, and he chuckled. Pulling out of you which caused the both of you to groan with distaste. "I'm not hearing a no?" He questioned with a brow raised. Helping you roll onto your back. "One more," you told him with a nod, and he grinned. "Maybe two?" "Pete, don't push it," you giggled, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck. Peter laughing into the kiss he gave you.

#peter b parker x reader #peter b parker #peter b parker smut #spiderman #the amazing spiderman smut #the amazing spider man #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #marvel #marvel smut #minors dni #notsfw

[zentraex]

Wishing on World Wish Day is a funny thought. Magic doesn’t exist in our world. Still, trying doesn’t hurt, right? Maybe your favourite fictional character comes to life?

Remember: English is a lot different than German. I apologise for any grammar mistakes.

Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, Yandere, Mentioning of Masturbation, Stalking

From Another World

Monday, 29. April 2024

Dear Diary,

Today is World Wish Day. Normally, I don't believe in that, but what's wrong with giving it a try, right? After all, no one will know but you, so it's worth a try, even if it's just for fun.

I'm totally obsessed with this anime: "My Hero Academia". It's been a long time since I've watched the anime and yet I can't stop throwing my money out the window for merch. After all this time, I still read fanfictions about Katsuki. I wish someone like him would exist in real life, or better yet, he would exist, explicitly. Do you think he'd like me then? I hope so. I like him so much that my heart wouldn't take it if he hated me.

With red cheeks, you close the book and grin to yourself. It's a silly entry, but you still love to think about "what if..." situations.

And what better day to try than World Wish Day?

Maybe, just maybe, the wish will come true after all.

You giggle again, what a stupid thought.

_

A loud noise that you can't assign wakes you up the next day. Tired, you rub your eyes and glance at your phone's clock.

It's an hour before your alarm goes off and you need to get ready for school. Smiling, you lie down again, but the rumbling in your apartment startles you up.

Your parents are on vacation and you should be alone.

A burglar...

is your first thought. Your heart pounds against your chest as you reach for the baseball bat in your closet. It was a gift from your childhood friend. You don't have any contact with them anymore, but you find it difficult to detach yourself from things.

Who would have thought that it could be of use after all?

The sleepiness is completely gone and adrenaline is pumping in your veins. Completely in a state of euphoria, you are not even silent as you rush into the living room, club firmly in your grip and ready to strike.

Of course, the burglar notices you. Your footsteps are not quiet. But don't worry, someone like him would even notice you if you sneaked up.

It's dark, you can only vaguely see his head turned in your direction.

You swing with full power...

...

...

...

... but suddenly it explodes, your bat. The blast causes you to fall back to the floor of your room and the smell of smoke blocks your nasal cavities. Your breath is shaking and your body trembles.

Was the explosion real?

You don't even have time to think about it, because a few milliseconds after your impact, the burglar grabs you by the face and pushes your upper body down. You can feel how he puts pressure on your body with his legs, not only immobilizing you completely, but also causing you immense pain.

What do you do in such a situation?

Right! Crying and begging.

"T-Take what you want," you begin as fat balls of water flow through your face. "Just not the family pictures, my mother is very attached to them. Please don't take my beloved father's trophy either, he's so proud of them," you sniff. "A-and please don't take the necklace in my jewelry box. It's a family heirloom."

The otherwise silent room fills itself with your sobs as you tell him about the things that are worth so much to you and your family. He doesn't say anything.

You're scared. Your field of vision is blocked by his hand, it stinks of smoke, you are immobilized and everything hurts. All the while, the burglar is silent.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he says after a while.

"Huh?"

The grip on your face comes loose and your watery eyes show you a blurry gray vision of a man. His voice sounds like Bakugou's.

"You kidnapped me, why are you begging like a baby now?"

It takes a while for you to be able to process the info. The last heavy drops roll down your cheeks and your vision are clearing. There is a man in front of you and he has light, spiky hair and a prominent face that you would recognize anywhere.

"B-Bakugou?" it slips out of you. "A Bakugou cosplayer?"

He looks and sounds one-on-one like Bakugou, your beloved anime character.

At the mention of his name, his grips tighten again, eliciting a whimper from you.

"I'll give you ten seconds. Tell me who you are and how you know my name. Why am I here?"

"I-I'm Reader a-and I know the character you're cosplaying because I'm a huge fan of him, a-"

He interrupts you by putting a hand on your mouth.

"Figure that I cosplay? I'm real."

Shit, I'm dying at the hands of a maniac...

He looks at you for a while before speaking again.

"I'm going to let you go now, turn on the lights. Don't do shit, you’ll regret it."

He doesn't let go of you until you nod. For the first time, you can breathe properly, but your limbs still hurt unbearably. On shaky legs, you walk to the light switch and then turn towards the person.

Now that you can see it closely, you notice that he looks like the real Bakugou down to the smallest detail.

Crazy...

When you look into his eyes, you notice how he looks around the room. Your whole walls are full of him, your bed is full of plushies, and your closets have a whole bunch of Bakugou figurines. Even your pajamas have a Bakugou pattern.

"Are you a stalker? Shit, ended up with a lunatic."

"What? No! I'm just a huge fan of him."

He then just clicks his tongue and crosses his arms.

"Stop talking like I'm not real."

In the meantime, your pulse has regulated itself again. Maybe that's why you find the courage to raise your eyebrows skeptically and cross your arms.

"No, you're not. Bakugou is a fictional character. You really need to get help, my friend."

Then he says with gnashing teeth: "No, I'm not."

"Oh, yes? How do you think I get all the close-ups of you?"

He seems to pause and steps closer to the images. His gaze scans them all: the moment he collapsed in front of Deku after fighting him, when he was kidnapped by the League of Villains and sat tied up in a chair, when he fought Deku and Ochako with Ida on the team, and many more. More precisely, all the defining moments of his life are glued to your wall, just not from his perspective.

He has to swallow as he lets it sink in.

Could you be telling the truth?

No way, right? He experienced it! He can feel and think, how can he be fictional?

But then why do you have all these memories?

Suddenly, he is plagued by a headache and nausea almost makes him spit up.

Was his life just a show for people like you? Was it never about saving lives? To be a hero? All his work, courage, heroic deeds were not self-willed, but written by someone?

But he's here now, isn't he? He's made it to the real world, so he's thinking for himself now, isn't he?

But how did he do it?

His gaze wanders to you, who looks at him expectantly.

It must have something to do with you. After all, he's in your house for a reason, right?

Did you bring him to life?

"Look, I'm serious. I'm real. The explosion earlier, can anyone else do that?"

Your eyes widen, you've totally forgotten about it in the heat of the moment. A normal person can't do that, so how did he do it?

You are silent and your silence gives him the answer he needs.

"See? Maybe I was fictional, but you must have brought me here somehow."

Me?

Your gaze wanders to your journal and the idea that your wish has come true pops up.

Can it be?

Impossible...

It was just a stupid thought, a little joke to yourself. Magic doesn't exist in your world, but how do you explain this situation?

Suddenly, your heart is beating like crazy and your body is getting all hippy.

Bakugou Katsuki? Real? In your house?

However, the fan-girl in you only comes out briefly when you realize that you're not just standing in front of your big hero in your pajamas, but he's standing in your fan-girl room.

You can't even put into words the shame you suddenly feel when the blush goes to your head.

"S-So you're real, huh?" you say quietly. "That's cool."

Nervously, you play with your sweaty fingers and quickly realize how overwhelmed you actually are.

What are you doing now? What's the best way to deal with the situation?

"What do we do now? My parents are on vacation, so you can't stay here forever."

He frowns thoughtfully and asks, "How long are they on vacation?"

"Four days to go. I don't know if that's enough to find a way to bring you back to your world...", you murmur.

Bakugou pauses for a moment.

His world, huh? The world in which he is only fictional, controlled by the ideas of a stranger.

Does he really want that?

_

By now you're at school and Bakugou is alone in your house, bored. The TV program only brings junk, which is why his gaze wanders around your room all the time – nothing better to do anyway.

Something has been confusing him since the beginning of his arrival...

This strange feeling...

This feeling of...

Pride?

Proud that he is being loved here like this. Of course, in his world he also had fans, but no real ones. It elicits a grin full of arrogance from him.

He wants to feel it, recognition, appreciation, love.

Without much thought, he goes out and runs in any direction.

You are home in a series of apartment blocks close to the city center. So, it doesn't take long until he hears the first people talking about him.

"Oh my God, look at this Bakugou cosplay! How good is that?"

"How well taken!"

"Can I take a picture with you?"

This goes on all the time.

In the beginning it feels good, very good.

But...

Something is bothering him....

That he is not recognized as himself, but only as a costume. He puts his hands in his pocket and walks back with an annoyed expression. Almost at your apartment block, you run into him.

While he remains as still as a board, you almost fall over when you two collide.

"Bakugou!" you breathe a sigh of relief. You look like you've been scared, your skin sweaty and your eyes wide open. "I thought you didn't like it with me or something..."

Something is happening in him again.

He can't even describe this feeling...

No matter what it is, he likes it, very much and he has to pull himself together so that he doesn't start grinning.

"What are you doing out here?"

"I've had a look around here."

You smile and nod in understanding. In the meantime, you have calmed down and can think clearly again.

"I wanted to go to the library today and see if there are some solutions to bring you back. Do you want to come with me?"

Then his brow furrows again and he clicks his tongue.

"I don't have time for that."

Instead of being sad about the answer, you have to giggle. You've already expected such an answer, after all, you know him – and you love him just the way he is.

"That's okay. Here's the key to getting up. I'll see you later."

Deep down, he hopes you can't find a way to bring him back to his world.

_

You didn't find a way, not even for the next four days. Your only guess is that you'll have to wish him back next year on World Wish Day.

Hopefully this will work out...

As much as you like him, your favorite character doesn't belong to your world. Here, he has no IDs, people only know him as a character, he can't live the life as a hero that he wants to and he doesn't have a place to stay.

His life would be a disaster here and you don't wish that for him.

But how do I make it possible for him to live here for a year?

Your front door rings and your face turns pale.

Your parents...

As you walk to your door with your legs shaking like crazy, you swear your heart stopped for a second.

"Reader, you should have told us about the current situation!"

...

"And you could have introduced us to your boyfriend earlier!"

What?

Your gaze wanders to Bakugou, who smirks at you while your mother hugs him.

"My poor son-in-law, you were afraid of ending up on the street after your parents died."

Your father puts a hand on Bakugou's shoulder.

"As long as you continue to treat my daughter well, you can stay here for eternity, Mania."

_

"I found someone on the internet who would fake all this paperwork," Bakugou says.

"Yes? This is good. Do you want me to come with you?"

He shakes his head.

"No, it's too dangerous."

You just nod silently, and turn to your wall.

Sighing, you begin to tear down the pictures on your wall.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to rip it all of. It's certainly creepy for you to see all the photos of you. You live here and I want you to feel comfortable."

"It doesn't bother me."

Surprised, you turn to him.

"Sure?"

"Yes."

You gaze at his laid-back form, missing out on his racing heart.

For some reason, he didn't like it.

For some reason, he panicked.

For some reason, he had started taking pictures of you as well...

_

"Today is your first day of school, excited?"

"No."

"Not a bit?"

"No."

"Not even a little bit?"

This time, you only get an annoyed look in response, after which you just laugh.

Bakugou then turns his gaze to the ground and fights the flush of his cheeks with a frown.

No matter how grumpy or negative he reacts, you always seem to be smiling.

He's noticed how well you seem to know him.

"You don't mean it."

And every time you were right.

No matter what he did, you always seem to like it.

Not even Kirishima accepted him as much as you did.

At school, he quickly realizes that you're incredibly popular.

Especially the boys seem to like you a lot...

Not even Kirishima accepted him as much as you did.

Since he's been in your world, he feels less and less like a hero...

When you leave the house, he follows you in the shadwos. The fear that something could happen to you is so big that he wants to lock you up...

He takes pictures of you all the time. If you take a shower, he'll sneak in and steal a few moments, only to be able to blow off steam later.

When you're sleeping, he lies down next to you without you knowing.

He takes advantage of your ignorant parents to be able to play "couple" with you.

Maybe that's his true self?

His gaze darkens as a classmate embraces you.

Bloodlust leaves him thirsty for violence.

Not even Kirishima accepted him as much as you did.

He’s sure you'll accept it that way as well.

#yandere #mha #bnha #mha x reader #x reader #bnha x reader #female reader #yandere x reader #yandere bnha #yandere bakugou #mha yandere bakugou x reader #yandere bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #Katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugou #Yandere Katsuki #Bakugou #yandere katsuki x reader

[stardew-shitposterino]

Most to least likely Stardew Valley Bachelor to be lovey dovey in a relationship

Ok peeps, I’m in the mood for some random posting. Since some of you enjoy it, I’ll commit to it ! Why not 🤷🏼‍♀️so let’s goooo✈️

Oh and btw: a bit of NSFW again because I’m a degenerate lol. Soz to the minors 🫣

1. Elliott:

-Elliott is the obvious choice, isn’t he ?

-this man has no chill when it comes to showing you how much he loves you

-he isn’t huge on baby talk, but he’s huge on medieval Shakespearean reenactment to show his love to you

-you might not always understand where his play on words come from, but it sure as hell makes you blush like a mess

-whenever you and him have a sleepover, he leaves a note on your table that reminds you of how much he adores you! So cute 🥰

-flowers, romantic dates, evenings spent at the pub sitting on his lap while he caresses your hair, marvelling at it with a slightly drunken gaze and red cheeks 😫🫡😍😏

-…I just know that guy eats you out like no other…I said what I said 🥸

2. Sam

-ok hear me out! Before you come for my throat, I think he is more likely to be very love drunken than some of the other choices. It’s a close call for the second place, but I believe he deserves it

-overused but I don’t care: he has the golden retriever energy. Maybe it’s his ADHD, but regardless, he’s a pure boy

-he might be a little anxiously attached to you because he won’t leave your side during your honeymoon phase

-he wants to hold your hand or touch you in some way all the time. He just loves having you close 🥺

-expect him to kiss you senseless whenever he can. Preferably in private because he doesn’t want his mum to find out through bystanders, that would be embarrassing. Other than that, he wouldn’t care for the life of him. If he can pepper your neck with little kissies, he will

-speaking of kisses: he’s generally a huge fan of intense make out sessions. He prefers them over sex any time. Not that he doesn’t like the other stuff, but to him, it just hits different

-imagine that blushy, heated face when you pull away 😳 eyes hazy and hair even more disheveled than before, just adoringly gazing back into yours and smiling ever so slightly (😩😭🫨)

3. Alex

-“still no Harvey?! What’s wrong with you!?”

-I know I KNOW. I know that Harvey is a sweet boy in the game who tells you a lot of cute stuff, but idk. Something about Alex makes me believe he will be more likely the kind of partner to be sweet and a bit cringe yet adorable when it comes to the person he loves

-he might not be a poet, but he shows his adoration in other ways

-back 👏🏻 hugs 👏🏻

-generally hugging you? He will do it all the time. Any time. He will climb through your small living room window to hug you at least once a day if he has to

-for some reason, he likes kissing your arms. Don’t ask me to elaborate, he just does. Like kissing them up and down. Oh and your thighs 👀 it doesn’t even necessarily lead to anything explicit, he just loves them so much

-he will tell you how you’re the love of his life and how he cannot wait to see you two grow old together. He will lay in bed with you, maybe just watching tv and randomly blurt out something like this: “wow, who would have thought that we’d end up like this, meeting in this tired town. Having you by my side, I might be the luckiest guy to ever exist.”

-Alex frequents the beach to talk to his deceased mother. It’s kinda sweet in a way because he will talk to her about the things happening in his life. Pre-dating as well as in the midst of your relationship, he tells her so much about you, wishing she was still alive to have met you as you are the best thing that has ever happened to him 😭

-Alex is a hunky boy, but he loves bathing with you :3 something about it just makes him feel extremely euphoric 🥰 but he will cup your boobs the whole time lmfao (no matter what kind you have). That might also lead to him kissing your neck the whole time till both of you are in the mood 😶‍🌫️👀

4. Harvey

-Harvey at forth ?! HARVEY?! COME OOOON

-yes, I know. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t cute and affectionate with you ! This ranking is pretty close as all of the bachelors have their qualities that make them good partners 🥺 it’s just based on my own headcanons or assumptions about what they might be like

-ok so Harvey is a little anxious mess but LOVES to be a real gentleman when he’s in love

-I’m talking putting on his finest Jazz and dancing with you in your living room, slow dancing while just enjoying each other’s closeness 👀😍

-Harvey shows his affection mostly through everyday things. Like making you coffee in the morning or cleaning up for you. Not to mention peppering you when you’re sick as well as doing small gestures that show you that he cares and wants to make the effort for you

-Harvey LOVES to put your foreheads together while holding you close. Since he’s way taller than you, he has to crouch a little in order to make it work (it’s so cute omfg 😭😤🥰😍💀🫣🫨😫)

-forehead kisses too 😭👏🏻😫 he’s all about soft, sweet affection

-there are many headcanons about spicy Harvey and I get where this is coming from, but I do believe that his sweet, pure side is predominant. Like yes he will want to sleep with you, you’re a couple and he’s not asexual, so why wouldn’t he want to do that 🤷🏼‍♀️

-speaking of this, he loves to lay in bed with you in your post-coital state. Like of course he enjoys the deed, but what he enjoys even more is the after math that consists of laying together, skin to skin, just talking or laying there in silence and enjoying each other. It gives him the feeling of being one with you, of growing even closer than before 🥺

5. Sebastian

-Sebby can be a really cute guy once he lets his guard down, but I don’t think he is the most obvious in love even when he is very infatuated with you

-he just isn’t that kind of guy, you know?

-Sebastian loves to cuddle with you in bed, especially while playing video games. His room is his safe space and sharing that space with you while doing something he enjoys, it’s just perfect to him

-he will show you how much he likes you by taking you on small adventures despite being a homebody. He didn’t fix up that motorcycle for nothing. Just you and him outside, discovering new places. It’s something he doesn’t offer to just anyone

-in public, he’s very reserved and doesn’t feel comfortable showing his affection, but at home? He latches on you and won’t let go. Of course he needs his space every once in a while, but it’s not rare for him to try and crawl under your shirt with you just to feel your warmth (he’s very cold most of the time)

-he loves touching your tummy. Ok ok I know this one is controversial but he just loves it. When you’re a little soft and he can grab onto something soft and warm? Oh boy, he will….he will 👁️ he also loves kissing your abdomen. Again, don’t ask me, I have my reasons

-when it comes to intimacy, he surprisingly prefers giving over taking. I have a feeling he prefers non-penetrative sex more ? At least speaking of “traditional” straight sex. Again, don’t ask, I cannot explain. So I imagine when he’s in a relationship with an AFAB farmer, he will want to either eat them out or finger them senseless because it brings him pleasure. It’s very specific I know but it feels right🤷🏼‍♀️

6. Shane

-you all know by now that I have a mild obsession with this guy, but yeah…I gotta admit he isn’t cutting it in this ranking

-it’s not that he isn’t capable of giving a lot of love, but he has his barriers that keep him from showing his love freely

-he will get there eventually, but before that, he’s very…well…tense ? He has a hard time initiating romantic gestures or telling you nice things

-again it’s not because he doesn’t want to, it’s that he is in his own head too much that he cannot garner the courage to do so. You’re dating but he still suspects it’s all a tasteless joke on him

-in those moments when Shane beats his inner critics, he can be such a sweetheart omfg

-I’m speaking kissing you behind your ear, caressing your waist and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. He isn’t very eloquent most of the time, but when the moment is right, he just knows what to say to you to make you feel loved

-Shane is the type of person to show his affection through mild bullying and joking around. He might be calling you a dwarf or giant (depending on your height difference) make fun of little things you do that he notices, but it’s never in bad taste. He always makes sure you know it’s just silly banter that usually ends in you two fighting playfully and then tumbling on top of each other, laughing and kissing 🥺🥰

-this man, this man loves when you sleep on his chest. On a lazy Sunday watching tv or just when he wakes up in the morning, noticing your head’s weight on him. It makes him feel useful, like he can protect you (let’s ignore that the farmer slays monsters as a side hustle, k). He will kiss your head ever so softly and whisper how much he loves you while doing it 😌

-if you want him to be the kind to hold your hand in public or kiss you, you’ve set your money on the wrong horse (rehab was supposed to be a fresh start), because he is not that kind of man, sorry 🤷🏼‍♀️ he will start to do it once he gets comfortable enough with you, but it’s not that much. PDA just isn’t in it with this guy 😤

-his spicy side? He has plenty spice, but when he’s in the mood for some romance, he likes it slow and sensual. It’s a bit out of character for him, but sometimes he just wants to enjoy your presence and the slow build up of excitement and arousal. Expect him to enjoy guided self-pleasure. Picture it like this: he sits behind you, taking your hand and guiding it through the process of what you’d do to yourself 🫣 while, again, whispering hot stuff in your ear (yeah my version of him is into whispering lmfao). That’s the good stuff 😫

#stardew valley #sdv bachelors #sdv shane #stardew valley shane #sdv Harvey #Stardew valley Harvey #sdv Alex #Stardew valley Alex #sdv Sam #Stardew Valley Sam #sdv Sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #sdv Elliott #Stardew valley Elliott #stardew valley headcanons #sdv headcanons #Stardew valley bachelors

[grapejuicestyless]

i’m rlly sad summers gone but like I have a winter request for conrad so we good !!

fem reader (conklinnn ofc) and conrad used to date but then had a messy breakup so now everyone is in college and yn doesn’t have anywhere to go because everyone is off doing something for winter break so she takes stevens car and drives down to the summer house and conrad shows up a day later and she’s freaking out. They both stay there the whole week and romantic feelings and nostalgia builds up again 🤌🏻

you can add some of your own stuff too because your soooo creative and your work is golden!! thank you:)

Peace.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst to fluff!

Summery: After a hard loss, both in a relationship and with the severing of the ties of her past, Y/n must learn to let go in order to gain what she so desperate wants back.

Snowfall is always overlooked. People see it as more of an inconvenience than as a gift. Each little white flake falling from the sky seems like nothing more than a mushy ball of frozen water made to block the roads and keep kids out of school, but the closer you look the more complex they are.

What was once so horrible becomes something beautiful, something unique. There is no other thing like it, each flake is different even by one branch in the pattern. It’s sad how many people are so quick to dismiss it and pout out their windows. White was never their favorite color and the cold was never their favorite temperature.

At this time of year, I usually considered myself lucky. I had a family who cherished each snowfall and a mother who would have hot-coco ready on the table for when our red cheeks and icy hair would become too much and we would finally come back inside to melt and warm up again. Each winter break my younger siblings, Steven and Belly would be attached at my hip. Having an older sister who only grew more and more, our time together always felt limited. So we spent each day in the living room. Playing the Wii with Steven and Barbies with Belly. I would read with my mom and cook with my dad. It was all so perfect. My favorite time of the year.

I used to joke with Conrad that college didn’t hold the same amount of excitement around the season because people were just as bitter and cold all year round. I called him cold hearted too because he thought it was funny. He laughed and kissed me then. I wonder if he would laugh now. Even if we no longer shared a stocking and cozied up by the fireplace impossibly close declaring our quiet loves for each other. I wonder if he still thinks fondly of the winter like I do now that it’s tainted with old memories of us.

Usually, during the winter I would drive down to Boston. It took some convincing for Laurel to allow her daughter to drive so far in such intense weather, but she knew where my heart belonged. It was the holidays and she was just as jolly as the rest of us, so she would always agree. There, I would bring gifts for all the Fishers. I didn’t have enough money to afford gifts and college, so everything was homemade. Every year I would apologize, but Susannah and Conrad always claimed to love it. Jeremiah wouldn’t say anything, but the smile on his face was always genuinely happy, so I think he liked them just as much.

Conrad would take my mitten clad hands after. Even covered in thick wool he managed to clasp his hands fully around mine, eager to get me alone. We’d slip away into his room, my cheeks red and eyelashes covered in snowflakes and his eyes wide and smile full. Behind closed doors, we could be as affectionate as we wanted without gags of jealousy disguised as disgust from Jeremiah or swooning from Susannah over how cozy we looked.

I remember how I believed my hips were made with dips so his hands could fit perfectly in them. How his arm rested on my waist so tight, I didn’t need a blanket because he kept me warm. No fireplace or layers of coats could light the flames in my heart and keep me warm in the coldest winters like Conrad could.

He said summer was his favorite season when he met me, but now he favored winter because it reminded him of me. I asked what would happen if something were to happen to us, just to tease him then. He got serious, I still remember the look on his face when he told me I would always be his favorite thing. How winter would forever remind him of me and no matter what, nothing could change that fact.

It was our own little secret oasis. A utopia of our own confined within the four walls of his childhood bedroom. When it snowed, we’d play in the snow like children and when it stormed we’d make forts to watch our favorite winter movies. It was a dream I never wanted to end, I was foolish to think it wouldn’t.

By spring, it felt like he was tired of me, of who I was. No amount of effort could keep Conrad beside me. I became someone he wasted his time on rather than someone he begged to be around. My skin was like fire to his touch, his eyes avoidant. It all came to a head when I broke down in late May.

“Why, why am I not enough?” I begged him then, I wanted to know what my problem was. Why I couldn’t be more than what I was now. Why we couldn’t go back.

He shrugged his shoulders, looking past my left shoulder. He looked distant. He knew it just as well as I did, we were walking on eggshells.

“Because you’re just not.” His words were bitter, knives stabbing me through the heart and ripping out. There was no reason, he didn’t even try to make the gashes in my heart better.

“Bullshit. I do everything for you! I give you everything!” It came out more as a question than a statement. I wasn’t as sure about what I once believed so firmly now that Conrad was showing how he felt.

“I guess it wasn’t enough then.” His eyes were watering. We were already talking in the past tense, we were over. He didn’t have to say it, neither did I. It was as clear as the freckles on his face, there was no amount of mending that could pull us back together.

In my mind I could only remember those final words we spoke to each other. The first hour of our long argument was washed from my mind for my own sake. What should’ve been tattooed permanently in my brain was gone the second we were over. Maybe if I could remember it fully, each insult and every word he used to put me down and make me feel small, I would’ve been able to feel justified in my anger. I could talk shit with my friends, shit on him to my mother. But even in my heartache, I couldn’t find reasons to be mad at him.

Conrad always went through so much on his own. It would be selfish of me to believe that he was completely okay when things ended. It was messy and sudden the way it happened. He was the biggest dick to me, but I couldn’t blame him for what he did. Not then, not now. Part of me still loved him. Part of me would still die for him in secret. He was my first love, all I knew when it came to my feelings. I let him rule my heart, my decisions. I didn’t show up to Cousins that summer.

Now that it was over, no ties binding us together, no overbearing reason to drive down to Boston for the weeks leading up to the holidays where we’d all finally be together again, I have no where to go. Steven was old enough to be on his own now, a freshman at Princeton. One of his rich friends had dropped by within the first twenty four hours to drag him off to his families vacation home. I hadn’t even set up the Wii yet. Belly, my littlest sibling who I adored more than anyone else I knew was more distant than Steven. The stress of deciding between Finch and Jeremiah or some state school with the guarantee of being on volleyball was eating her alive. Back then, I would’ve told her not to lose sight of her dreams and life because of some boy, but here I was doing the same thing. I stayed quiet and let her decide what she wanted.

My mom was gone just like Steven. Away to talk about her book with other critically acclaimed writers and producers. My dad was out of the picture. He wouldn’t be back until Christmas morning. He was never really present after the divorce, but he’s a good man and he tries his best. He just works a lot. It hurts to not be able to enjoy the holidays like I used to, but I can respect why everyone’s away.

Somehow, I end up in Stevens drivers seat. I’ve never had a car of my own. While Steven spent weeks searching the internet for a cheep car, I spent my time studying for finals and applying to colleges. I never had the time. He gave me his keys before he left. He said I could take his car anywhere I wanted as long as I didn’t ruin it. Each dent in it, I would owe him ten bucks. It wasn’t much, but to a struggling college student, ten dollars in my bank account might as well have been him asking for hundreds.

“Belly, I’m heading out. Call me if you need me, okay? I might not be back for awhile.” The words I chose were ominous. I didn’t tell her where I was going, why I was going or how long I’d be exactly, but she didn’t care enough to ask. So I climbed into Stevens car and let my playlist shuffle. I imagine myself in the situations my favorite artists write about and sing along like I can relate to their upper class parties and juvenile activities. It keeps my mind off of where I’m going.

It’s not like I got in the car set on heading to the one place that once swore to never step foot near again, but when I recognize the signs on the highway pointing me in the same direction, I’m suddenly set on it.

The sting of the breakup lingered like a tattooed kiss, a reminder of something so special that was now gone. I wouldn’t let him ruin the place that was once so special to our families.

Pulling up to that driveway, I remember how the weeds would grow over the gravel by July and how Steven and Jeremiah would stay out for hours plucking at them to make Susannah happy. How the grass held the imprints of our small bodies rolling around the hills and daffodils. The sand was forever glued into the fabric of our favorite t-shirts and the salt air is what we smelled of until December washed it away.

We were always so close here. Despite the rifts and the problems that happened between us. Not blow out fight or silent treatment could ever separate the Conklin’s and the Fishers from each other for long.

I looked back on how I felt at home. How together was something that I never even questioned. Steven would be by the fireplace yelling at the television and Belly would be begging him to quiet down. Laurel would be curled up in the corner scribbling things into a notepad and dad would try to sneakily move the elf on the shelf.

We were older now. The wii wasn’t all that special and Belly longed for the chaos she once hated. Steven preferred his friends and mom and dad fell out of love so mom could learn to love her work more.

I pulled into the large house through the garage. I knew the code by heart, it was my phone passcode. I figured that if I wanted to stay attached to homeliness so badly I could be where I learned what love was the best.

In my head, even now I always believed that no matter how long it would go untouched, the summer home would always be bright and warm. Smelling of Susannah’s candles and Belly’s sticky iced teas.

Stepping through the front door, it was dark and cold. My breath was less visible than in the outside, but the light and heat didn’t bounce from wall to wall like it always did.

It took me a few minutes to find the correct switch to turn up the heat. I cranked it until my socks burned on my feet and a sweat covered the top of my forehead. It was comfortable, I could sink into my own chunky sweater.

It was my mothers, the blue and white striped sweater I wore. She was gifted it by Susannah in their late college years but it never quiet fit her because she was so short. It fit big, but it didn’t sag at my knees or gather at my wrists as much. It smelled like my mom and reminded me of Pennsylvania skies.

The warmth from the heat and the comfort from my clothes set me in a slump, my eyes drooped. I hadn’t even turned on any lights yet, hadn’t gone up to my room to make the bed. I was sat in place on the permanently indented couch. Though my body curled into the spot where I always laid during movie nights, my head fell where Conrad’s lap would’ve been. To imagine we were all just as happy, as close made me feel fuzzy. If I tried hard enough I could even hear his voice. Calling for me, like a dream.

The sun peaked through the windows and the dust that collected on the once neatly kept glass projected tiny shadows and spots across the hardwood floor. The couch was warm with my body heat and other than the faint whisper of the wind, it was peaceful.

A melodic whistle blowed through the open gap between the living room and the kitchen. It was smooth yet broke when the song grew too high for the deeper voice that carried the tune.

Rubbing at my eyes, my feet swung out from under my thighs, I wiped away any drool or signs of slumber. Still, clearing my complexion did not rid my body of the tired achey feeling and the small blurring of my vision. My brain was following behind my body, every caution sign to who was here at this time thrown to the wind.

Mugs clanked together clumsily, my nose burned with the strong scent of coffee beans. It was chillier in the morning here than how I had left it at night, I could feel the tip of my nose turning red and growing colder.

A taller boy stood hunched over the countertops, a spoon clinking around softly as he stirred around something in the mug. His shirt hung loose on his body but his pants fit just right.

His hair was wavy, but only just at the ends. Under the strong smells of early morning caffeine, I could faintly still pick up the scent of sea salt and a spice I couldn’t name. It was vanilla like but also had a lingering smell of oak and woods. It was my favorite smell.

“Conrad..?” It clicked in my brain that the handsome boy hanging around the summer home wasn’t some pick me up sent from heaven. The reason behind my instant admiration for such a simple, domestic task was because of how well I knew and once loved the boy. The name fell from my lips quietly, like I couldn’t believe it was true.

Spinning around, I met his blue eyes. I watched his lips twitch, fighting against some kind of emotion from spreading across his face and the light in his eyes falter. He looked blank, unaware of how his lack of enthusiasm of our reuniting was crushing me inside.

“Figured you’d want coffee.” He was right. He still knew me like the back of his own hand and that was the worst part. I hadn’t changed, I never would. He would always know me and it hurt to know I trusted him like that at one point just for him to leave. He even made it in my favorite mug.

A light blue ceramic mug that still had Belly and Conrad’s fingerprints in the clay and visible brush strokes across the top. They made it for me when we were still little. It was my favorite gift from her because they made it as an apology. For breaking my old vase I made for my mom in art class. They meant to harm and felt horrible, I cherished their kindness more than anything.

“No…no. I’m all set.” Crossing my arms and clearing my throat, I set my eyes on the ground and leaned against the doorframe on the wall. We didn’t speak after that, he didn’t move. Sucking in his lips, I heard him sigh almost disappointedly.

“So…” He tried to start, I was too scared to listen. Not of him, god I could never be scared of him. But of what he could want to say.

My eyes flicked over the dents in the floor, I discovered marks I hadn’t seen before. Just when I thought I had everything memorized. When I thought I knew everything, when I thought I knew him.

“You know, uhm…I think I’m going to settle in.” Nodding at him quickly, I all but ran to the stairs. My hands gripped at the banister so quickly, I felt skin pull skin. It tore just under my fingers beginning, the top of my palm. I swore I heard him call after me, but maybe it was the ringing in my ears.

I came here to get away. In search of some solace, I grasped at the tattered strands of my childhood to find that I had held on too long. In my own journey, by some sort of fate, I dragged along a deeper part of those memories with me.

I spent that morning stowed away in my bedroom. I left the door ajar. The air was chilly still, and the air dusty. The heat had rarely been used. Only on the rare occasions in which Susannah would find reason to escape down to the beautiful town of Cousins. Simply to watch the early snowfalls or sparkling lights decorating the center of the town. Usually when I would get settled into my own room in the summer home, each knickknack would be thrown carelessly over the bureau top and shoved in the forever empty bedside table drawers. I would procrastinate making my bed last. I hated the damned fitted sheets and the wrinkles I couldn’t flatten for days. I hated the way that the corners never stayed. My body stretched as far as it would go, yet I could never quiet hook the fabric far enough to keep it settled.

Today was no different. My blood boiled the same, but it mixed with an unfamiliar warmth. How endearing it was to be able to relive such a memorable moment of my summers again even after tragedy struck the once uniting household.

“Fuck.” The sheets flipped up. The full sized mattress was far too wide to allow my arms to stretch across the full width of its body and hook the corners over far enough to where they wouldn’t slip. Each move resulted in a different kind of release with the bedsheets. Each time I ended up wrapped up in the thin cotton sheets.

The clock ticking on my bedside table taunts me. Reminds me of how long I’ve been tangled around in my bed. If it weren’t so humiliating, I would’ve asked for help. But I created a mess. My feelings, one’s that Conrad had so clearly buried as he was able to be kind and cordial towards me while I panicked like a fish out of water. So I hop around from corner to corner desperate to finish my task.

“Y/n?” The name burns the way it rolls off of his tongue. Like even with me gone, he had practiced pronouncing it in the mirror, whispered it to himself each night. It was like we’d seen each other the day before, the way it came out. Breathless and light.

The moon hung over the house, illuminating thin strips of shine through the windows that led from the floor to the very bed I was sprawled across.

Sighing heavily, I threw my head back. Hair fell in front of my face, tickling the bridge of my nose. I saw Conrad hesitate. His hand flinched out from where it was tucked behind the doorframe. He set it on the white wood frame.

“Can I help?” It was innocent enough. Maybe he was sick of the sound of my knees rubbing against the mattress. Or the way I grunted every few minutes. I stumbled around my room all day fixing it up, I almost forgot how loud it could’ve been.

It felt sour to accept it. Even if it were as innocent and kind as it seemed. Conrad had a glimmer of hope in his eye and his lips upturned. He looked so handsome still, nose pinker from the slight chill and eyes still just as deep blue.

“No thank you.” I huffed. I tried to sound annoyed, something that was hard to do when you weren’t really all that annoyed at all. Resistant was the only similar thing I could place a name to. I saw the wag Conrad’s smile faltered, his eyes looming with a dark shadow, masking the vibrant sparkle.

“Come on, don’t be so stubborn, please? You’ve been at it for hours, just let me help.” Stubborn. Just like my mother and his. Each of us were always set to do things on our own. But this was far more than just genetics at this point. This was my own grudge I was holding. This was my pride and my responsibility over my emotions acting. No matter how nice the gesture, I still refused, gnashing my teeth.

“Oh, so suddenly you care?” It was a lot more mean than I meant it. I know how much Conrad cares. How much he always has. He doesn’t have the best way to show for it, but in the end you always know it. It was a mistake, an instant regret. I watched how his face contorted. He wasn’t just disappointed now, but genuinely hurt by my own dig at his insecurities.

His whole life, Conrad always feared he wasn’t enough. He couldn’t give enough, couldn’t be enough. He always talked himself down, creating a false standard in which everyone else was above him, out of his league. He was insecure. He didn’t need reassurance, he knew what kind of love was real and what was fake, but the fact that maybe I had thought the same crushed him. I could tell.

His silence hung over us so heavy, a knife could slice it. His jaw stuttered and his eyes blinked slow. A loss for words. I wish he could just yell at me. Fuel my fire, make me feel less bad about what I said. Less guilty about the fact I couldn’t get over us when he could. Conrad didn’t deserve my emotional daggers directed at his heart simply because we split. I know Conrad, I always have. His method of leaving was cruel, but the boys heart was in the right place always.

“Fuck!” The sheet snapped back. I had enough. In all seriousness, I should’ve stopped to talk to the boy who was so clearly hurt by the door. A girl, a guest in a house that once felt just as much as hers as his was there in a now occupied room throwing insults unprovoked when he was trying to be nice.

Standing, I stumbled past him clumsily again, taking a spare blanket that hung off the end of the bed with me. I couldn’t take it. His stares, the silence, the sheet, my own guilt, my thoughts. I needed to be out of that sickened room.

“Y/n…” Again, the call was faint. A whisper in my head whose only goal was to make me stop. I didn’t turn. It was unfair, the whole thing. To me, to Conrad. I decided to sleep on the couch.

My back ached. The plush cushioning under my back too soft, too worn in. A good remedy, a great place for a quick nap. But it hurt after more than a few hours. The fabric rubbed harshly, the pillows sunk in. My hips popped when I stood.

The sun was shining through the windows, air crisp. Heat finally reached all corners of the large house and the cob webs were finally swept away. The magic of summer wasn’t there, but it felt homely. A good alternative to the sad loneliness of my own bedroom at home.

The house was still, the kitchen untouched and an empty mug in the sink. It was stained in a ring from where the old drink had been and had little brown streaks from where the coffee dripped off of the sides. The counter tops were cold, despite the heat inside. The floor was quiet, there was no shuffling. It led me to believe that the only other occupant was still asleep.

Heading up the stairs, I picked at my old clothes. The discomfort came from multiple things. The way my clothes stuck to my body, my teeth didn’t feel right in my mouth. My hair was knotted. I looked fine, but nothing felt right. The only way to describe it was that when waking up after a rough couple of nights, it felt like my skin didn’t fit right over my bones.

My door was wide open. The hinges bent all the way back, the light bled through the curtains. My already slow steps came to a halt when the threshold fell behind my legs. My bed was decorated with the same blue floral design it always had during the summers.

The pillows were placed where I always had them, and my blankets were hung so neat on the bottom of my bed. My fingers ran over the soft fabric like it wasn’t really mine. Like I was admiring a sample from a store, wishing it were mine. It was always so pretty.

My thumb hooked over the folded edge very carefully. I didn’t want to mess with the perfectly made bed. More importantly, I didn’t want to crease the remaining hand prints that laid in the center of the bed.

The plushy duvet left residue from bigger hands. Spread along the bends, from the center down. Proof that someone had truly tried their best to perfect it.

Looking under the top, not only had each layer been placed, but the fitted sheet. I could see it now with all its layers peeled back. The thought that even after my initial attempts to push away, to be mean, to hurt him, that Conrad had still wanted to help me made me feel warm. I wasn’t sure why my heart was fluttering for a boy I swore I hated. But my cheeks were red and my knees felt weak. I always did love his acts of service.

I didn’t plan on showering, but my skin was sticky with sleep and my heart was pounding too fast. I hated the fact that Conrad was too good for everyone in his own special ways. I hated the way he still cared and the way he remained so observant even in our absence. Most of all, I hate the way I reach for his shampoo in the shower. Longing for the scent of him to linger on me for just a little longer. How funny it is that we’ve changed so quickly and yet not at all. We used to share our hair products. He kept a hair tie for me in his bedside table. I had a drawer of clothes in his room, he had some in my closet. He went from my everything to just something in my life. Yet, with all this change I still reach for the familiarities of what we once had. My hand still searches the shower for his conditioner. My feet still take me to his door to find a shirt I like. What we had is gone, crushed under the weight of our separation, but my muscle memory pulls me back. The heart is a muscle, one that forever beats for Conrad Fisher.

I sit in the corner for longer than I lather the soap across my skin. My body is curled up against the cold tiles. I feel pathetic doing so. How small I’ve made myself. Not only mentally, but physically. I feel weak at how little self control I have. I think back on the past year of my life and I regret each decision I’ve made leading me here suddenly.

Was I not enough for Conrad? I know it’s not his reasoning behind his leaving, but I feel like the theory becomes more and more plausible the longer I think back on how lonely I’ve been. So stuck on my own problems, I forget how little I see my family. How Belly has grown without me. Her friends, her lovers. She is independent, she knows her path. Steven has matured. He understands feelings, he’s valedictorian. His brains lead him through life, he no longer comes to me at midnight to ask for help with math. I no longer review his essays or read his made up stories in the living room. We are two different siblings who once spent every moment together. My mother is nose deep in her own promotion with her books. She is succeeding while my father is going on dates and moving on. I am stuck in the same spot, forever thinking of the past, I can not move on.

I am scared by the knowledge that my family is no longer dependent on me. A scab is forming over the wound of the fact that Conrad has left, I am not needed. I hope the warm water fading into a cooler drizzle will hide the way my eyes are puffy and red. The streaks of water on cheeks will become streams of the shower. I am strong and resistant like my parents, but I am scared to admit that I have real fears. Ones that control my life. I will never tell them how I breakdown, how my heart is breaking and I am falling off the pedestal.

It’s more lively now then it was just an hour ago. The birds are gone, on vacation away in the warmer weather while the cold covers New England in a chilling blanket. I hear the mugs clattering from the hallways and the soft humming passing through his pink lips. He hears me before he sees me.

“Coffee?” He motioned to the brown liquid, steaming while it poured into the glass pitcher. Rubbing beneath my eyes, I could feel the weight of my eye bags heavy on my skin. My throat was coarse, hands aching from how hard I had grasped onto the shower walls. I hid behind the island counter on the stool. My body curled up into the baggy clothes covering my body, my knees hugging into my chest as close as possible.

“Yes, please.” I mumbled softly, trying not to show any weaknesses. Conrad knew me better than that. The way my lip twitched into a fake smile, how my eyes were more avoidant that usual. Even in my heavy feelings, my eyes were always drawn to him. I was closing myself off.

A beat passed. Conrad’s attempt at conversation had fallen short, right by my feet.

“How’d you sleep?” He turned to me, freshly brewed coffee sloshing around in the same mug as yesterday. He placed it in front of me, but he turned away again to pour his own cup. It wasn’t to further distance himself, creating a divide all while I was shutting down, but to give me room to breathe in a space I was so clearly suffocating in.

“It was okay.” I sighed, hand holding my head, my eyes closed. I imagined myself laid with my back pressed against plush pillows and my childhood bedroom fairy lights hanging over my head. It was still winter, but the atmosphere in my daydream felt of summer.

“I’m glad, then. That it wasn’t so bad, I mean.” He corrected himself, afraid of a wrath inside of me that didn’t exist to him anymore. It never really had, my emotions had only been misplaced yesterday.

Often I’ve been told that my words shoot to kill when I’m mad. I insult and belittle myself more than others, but my mother has no problem with bringing up the few times I targeted my feelings at Steven or Belly. How little I made them feel, how guilty I felt. I threw up once, after yelling at Steven. He hadn’t cared for it, fighting was what siblings did. But remembering how I tried to hurt him made me sick. I felt the same after insulting Conrad.

Nodding my head, I pursed my lips into a thin line. My eyes blinked away any dryness, I inhaled a deep breath.

“Hey, uhm…thank you, by the way.” I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, hovering over the cup of coffee to revel in the hot steam hitting my face.

Conrad turned around, leaning against the counter. His hands pressed up behind him, firm but his face was soft, glad.

“I shouldn’t have…you didn’t deserve that.” My eyes flickered between the floor and the folding of my sleeves over my thumbs. My skin was cold, my hair wet on the back of my neck. I had a lump in my throat.

“Y/n?” His voice was gentle, closer than before. I saw his elbows press against the counter top, just mere inches away. I felt even more awkward, littler than before somehow.

I hummed. But the coarseness in my throat made it come out as more of a rumble. I choked on the growing lump, my nose burned.

“We don’t have to avoid each other.” He said it like that was so easy. Like everything was resolved by him simply stating that he didn’t want to face the consequences of our actions.

“I know.” I brought the edge of the mug to my lips and blew. Steam clouded my vision, the wet heat felt nice on my cheeks.

“Y/n.” He said more firmly.

He wasn’t angry, but he wanted my attention. My eyes flickered up to his. They were darker now. Swarmed with so many emotions, it was hard to grasp onto what he was feeling. I set the mug down.

“Please don’t avoid me.” He begged more softly, his hand hesitated to reach out to me. Once they clasped around mine, it was almost relieving. Having something familiar to ground me while I was only working myself up. “I miss you, I miss us. We were best friends and we haven’t even spoken in…I don’t even know how long. This, this is stupid. To be running in circles like this?”

“That’s easy for you to say.” This time, my words weren’t angry. They broke apart when I spoke. The sentence was raw, the lump in my throat broke through my clenched teeth and my nose heated up in an intense burn. My eyes were heavy, working hard to keep any tears at bay. Again, here I find myself in a different spot, practicing the same habits. I stand in front of Conrad angry, ready to hurt his ego and pierce a hole through his heart just to ease my own mind.

I wanted exactly what he did, to be as close. I missed him more than anything in my life ever, but it wasn’t so simple. He pleaded my name again, I pulled my hands out of his. His fingers were like a barbed wire. It suddenly stung to have him touching me.

“I just wish you would’ve acknowledged it, you know? I mean look at me, look at us. You’re fine, you’re happy. I can’t even look at you without wanting to cry.” When our hearts broke, they broke uneven. Conrad was left with a bruise why I was facing the pain of a bleeding scar across my own. He had been the one to cause the rift, he had been the one to bring up everyone’s insecurities, use them against our relationship.

“Y/n.” He whispered, reaching out to me again. I stood from the stool, keeping my distance. My tears were hot, they burned into my skin.

“You couldn’t even stand me, Conrad! And I couldn’t see it before, but I can now. You couldn’t even text me, no. No, but that’s not the worst part. Maybe it’s the fact that you couldn’t even show up to Stevens graduation because I was there.” He sighed, ready to defend himself. I look back on all the disappointed faces, I remember the way Steven frowned at that empty seat beside me and I feel angry.

“Do you know how hard it is to tell your baby brother that his hero couldn’t make it to his graduation because he can’t even stand to be around me? Do you know how sad he was when he started to walk up to the podium and saw your seat was empty? I recorded it and sent it to you, did you know that? I wasn’t going to, I didn’t think you deserved to have a part in one of the most important parts in Stevens life, but he begged me to. Tried to make me send it twice so you’d get it.” I took a deep breath, wiping away the tears by my eyes, more spilled. My face was wet with salt water and red with anger.

“So why don’t we go back to how things were before after you’ve fucked it all up!”

“It’s really fucking unfair of you to act like this hasn’t affected me at all either!” He finally shot back. He was never one to yell. Conrad always had some sort of control over his composure. He never yelled, he hated yelling.

“How, how can you say that after you’ve done nothing to fix anything!” Walking closer to him, I saw how he turned away to grip the counter between his fingers.

“People deal with shit differently, Y/n. Grow up!” He yelled. His eyes were wild, it should’ve scared me. But god, him telling me to grow up after all he put me through only made me angrier. I was fragile already. But not as a flower, but a bomb.

“Fuck you, Conrad.” My voice was shaky, but firm. I didn’t yell, my lack of volume was almost scarier than my inevitable rage. He looked up at me, it was like watching him realize how his words had betrayed him. He hadn’t meant for us to fight, to talk like this. He wanted to fix things. He wanted me back.

“Y/n.” He shook his head, walking closer to me, he bent away from the edges of the island to reach me quicker. His voice was laced with pity

“Stop saying my name!” I backed away, feet catching on the threshold, I slowed myself down. Each time he said it, it pulled on my heartstrings. How could he be so selfish to not even be able to see all the pain I’ve been put through!

“I’ve missed you ever since I left you! You think I don’t regret the way I treated you? I’m not naïve to my own stupidity, I know my mistakes, I’ve owned them. You were my everything, god you might as well have hung the stars!” He waved his hands around to animate what he was saying. It only stresses me out more.

“Then why? Why did you throw it all away!” My body began to crumble beneath me, my knees wobbled.

“Because I was scared! I was scared of losing you. I thought if I let myself become too obsessed, that if you decided to leave me I would never be able to get back up. I had to do it!” He confessed. It all made sense then. All my unanswered questions, all my insecurities of not being enough. Conrad hadn’t left because I couldn’t give him what he wanted. He left because he was scared of what would happen when I was gone. That he wasn’t enough.

“I wouldn’t have left you, Conrad. I wouldn’t have.” My palms hit my eyes, my knees started to give. A sob ripped through my throat. It hurt to breathe.

His arms were like a blanket. His hands still fit perfectly around my back. When he held me, it was tight. I knew it then that he wouldn’t be letting me go, not now. His shirt was wet with my tears, mine was wet with my hair. I felt stupid, naïve to think of Conrad in such bad ways when he had only been doing what he thought was best to protect his heart after loss after loss.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I repeated it like a prayer, I didn’t mean to be so mean. I didn’t want to be rude to him, I wanted him to be close to me always. His heart was beating out of his chest when he nodded. He knew I never meant to fight him. We were both entitled to our feelings, there was no reason in trying to apologize for how we reacted.

His hand lifted to my head, brushing through my hair. He gathered a chunk in his palm, his knuckles gripping at it. It didn’t hurt, he didn’t intend for it to. He was breathing me in, holding onto me in every which way possible.

“It’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.” My sobs were muffling themselves, quieting down into soft whimpers. It took a lot to even nod my head against his shirt. It smelled like him, and it was homely. I felt safer now than in our argument. Our words held no value anymore, I just hoped that what he said was true.

Holding her like that almost made things feel normal again. Having her hair in between my fingers and her waist pressed against mine. I wanted to revel in it, selfishly. But her sniffles and uneven breath only made me remember why I even got the privilege to hold her again.

Again and again, I watched her breakdown over a mistake I made. To protect myself. I swore it to her last winter, promised her that it would always be my favorite season because she was my favorite thing. I built up this trust and a love between us. It was when she left that I freaked out over what my mom said.

“I’ve never seen you so happy.” She had said, poncho bc my cheek between her fingers. Playfully, I pulled my face away.

“Yea?” I mused, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and watched the steady snowfall on the final night of winter through the window.

“The love bug’s got you.” She was right. I was so undeniably in love with Y/n. I would change everything in my life just to be with her always.

“What?” My eyes squinted from the way my eyebrows furrowed. She was still looking out into the snow.

“It’s okay to be in love, Connie.” She quickly turned to me and smoothed out my shirt. She sensed my confusion and stress. I knew I was in love with her, but the fact that it was that obvious, that clear made me worry.

“Everyone has their first love at some point.” With that she left. At some point. The words rung through my head. I knew that the first love was always the strongest, but this was not my first love. I had fallen for an ex-girlfriend in freshman year. She broke my heart. Why was the thought of Y/n leaving shattering mine completely?

The more I thought of us together then, the more I worried about her leaving. She was perfect for me, maybe. But could I even measure up to her perfection? Could I give her everything?

I was able to push that feeling away for a few weeks. But as winter turned to spring and the leave began to regrow, I couldn’t shake it. Distance was a thing I was only growing between us. Space, something I created so there was no way we could get hurt. I thought it was the right thing, then. I thought it was the right move for me to let her leave so easily. To watch her fight for me one last time and not react. I was giving her the chance for someone more, someone better. I didn’t know I was only breaking her heart in ways I worried I would break my own.

It was a guilt I lived with all these months. When she didn’t come up to cousins because she wasn’t feeling good, I knew why. I had avoided her like the plague after our last conversation, our first real fight. I couldn’t even show up for her family in one of their most important milestones. Now it seemed like we only fight now, or at least in these past couple hours.

My neck was stiff from how it leaned against the back of the couch. I hadn’t watched past the hour mark of the black and white movie Conrad had put on. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I no longer liked it.

The movie was all I watched when I was at my absolute worst. Not to say I wasn’t still there, I felt rock bottom beneath my feet, but I felt myself getting better slowly. I no longer spent each day rewatching the same film over and over to ease the pain and remind myself of a happier time. I hated the way they talked. I once found it romantic, but the old cracking in the sound and the fancy accents made me angry. None of it was real.

To Conrad, he only did what he thought I would like. He had no way of knowing of my new distaste to the movie. One I used to rave about for hours. Then again, he never asked.

Yawning, I felt a set of eyes on mine.

“Tired?” He asked, a small smile on his face. I waved him off.

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p.’ It was an easy lie, my dark circles and slouchy posture gave it away. There was no way to sell it. I was surprised when he didn’t push me on it. My eyes drooped, my cheek pressed to my lonely shoulder. I had no one to lean on. I curled into myself a little, all while silently telling myself I was awake.

A pillow hit my lip, I bit down a little but it didn’t hurt me. My eyes were wide open now, hair messed up around the top. My fly aways were all over the place, my eyes squinting.

“Hey!” Grabbing the corners of the pillow, I swung as hard as I could towards Conrad, the culprit. It his his chest, he groaned out in a heavy breath. The pillow was soft, I was sure it didn’t hurt. But he entertained the idea that it did by rubbing circles in his chest, wincing and hissing through his teeth. I rolled my eyes.

“Seriously?” I leaned back against the cushions again, placing the pillow comfortably over my lap. I heard him laugh. A real, genuine laugh. It felt like weight was lifted off of my back.

“What! That was one of my best performances.” He punched my shoulder. I shot him playful glares. He pushed at me again, begging for a reaction. I folded already, giving into his games and retaliating against his childish attacks. But I would not crumble so easily. I would not let him tease me and play me until I opened up again just hours after yet another fight. I worried that another would ensue.

Sitting up, I tossed the pillow back at him. The sound he made confirmed it had hit him in the face.

“Come on, where are you going?” I could hear the smile in his voice. It made me smile too, knowing he was happy.

“To bed, I am tired.” I didn’t look back, but I felt him watching.

I swore I heard words die on his tongue. A soft stutter to a dead silence. Like he wanted to protest but stopped himself somehow. He never saw me look back, but when I was turning to the stairs, I allowed myself a glimpse.

His eyes were spacey, lip pulled between his front teeth. His eyebrows furrowed. He was deep in thought, but I could see the disappointment in his face. He didn’t seem as full of life, as cheerful. We were rebuilding a childhood, best friend bond that was lost with in cracking of our foundations in the spring.

“Goodnight, Conrad.” I still hadn’t had the ability to carry a joke with him. To keep a conversation flowing without my emotions dying inside of me before I could get them out. I whispered my goodnight. I wanted him to know I still held a place in my heart for him, but part of me wanted to reserve that knowledge to only myself.

I was scared to be more than what was being proposed. The door was open, we were almost friends. It was an odd spot. We’d act like friends, joke like them, but we both knew what we had done, what had just happened. I would walk through the entrance if Conrad would allow it. If we could at least be close, even if his lips weren’t mine, even if his body wasn’t there for me to lean on anymore. I would live happily, I’d be able to put on a brave face and call myself his friend. I would stand by the alter, watching him find another love, burying the hatchet of our love for good and I would be okay, I decided. As long as I still had him. As long as I never had to feel as alone as I did this morning.

“They’re saying borderline blizzard conditions, Con. You don’t think we’ll need to go on a supply run, do you?” His back was turned to me, hands working over the pot of coffee skillfully. His thumb brushed against the glass, he hissed quietly and shook his hand off.

“I think you’re just overthinking it.” He payed my worry not attention. He knew this house better than I did. It would hold, that wasn’t the worry. We had no shovels, nothing to dig us out of snow were to block us in. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. I made my way around the island, pushing myself off of the counter and into one of the stools perched under it.

“Coffee?” Conrad asked, ignoring my questions again. I gave into him, playing his game and being stubborn.

“What kind?” My fingers drew circles on the cold marble.

“Black.” He set the cup down in front of me, letting it come to a halt right in front of me. My eyes flickered to the coffee, a smirk fighting it’s way onto my cheeks.

“Like your soul?” Like your heart, is what I wanted to say. Something that used to come so easy, meaningless insults directed at him not to make him sad, but to make him smile. I still hadn’t answered by question, though. If I were to direct a remark at his heart, would it weigh too much under the cracking foundation of our recovering friendship? I still wondered if he would laugh at that and go along with it.

Conrad laughed, looking out the window and admiring the sky. He didn’t respond, but he never really had when I’d make those jokes. Usually he would laugh or tell me it was a good one. He sighed lightly.

“I walked right into that one.” He smiled down at his coffee now, holding the mug loose with the handle dangling between his fingers.

When silence took over the room, it wasn’t uncomfortable. We welcomed it. We were alone with our thoughts and for once, they weren’t twisted and heavy. Only happy memories and thoughts of old habits.

In my mind, I dreamed of times where I knew what to say after making a joke. What I could do to counter a snarky remark and his laughter. I always knew what to say to him, when and why. I knew what made him tick. I still knew how to set him off, I believe that once you have the ability to get under someone’s skin, you never truly lose it. Either you continue to poke at the wounds that hurt them so, or your presence is able to remind them of it. Yet, with all the loss in my every heartbeat, somewhere along the way I forgot how to keep him happy.

Conrad’s footsteps snapped me out of my clouded haze. My eyes snapped up from the counter to his face. He didn’t look at me, but stayed focused on his coffee.

“Glad to know you still got it.” His eyes flicked to me, I swear I saw him wink. It was so quick, my words died in a pathetic stutter. I smiled stupidly at him, I couldn’t even pretend to be snarky. It caught me off guard, somehow. My walls were torn down now, the barrier of anger and sadness I kept up around him to keep us apart gone with our last fight and heart to hearts. The devils in the details, but somehow it didn’t feel as deep, as life changing anymore.

It was like he knew I couldn’t think of something to promise to him. To keep us going. He surely hadn’t lost it.

I tried to rationalize everything recently. But it felt like it took over my life. I’d almost forgotten about Belly and Steven. How they’d been so quick to shut me out simply because someone had offered me a place to be wanted for a moment. Conrad always knew when to swoop in to save me. I could help but talk myself down every so often and convince myself that Conrad is not made of Angel dust. He simply is a man, and a smart one at that. All of this could be just to butter me up, I know it’s always an outcome. A way to win me back, but never want me the same. It poisons me to think about him that way, I know him. He would never play me to become the good guy.

My mind has no middle line. Constantly wavering between my lover, the man I see as the sky and the seas. I see him as a perfect lipstick stain to a white collar, uggs in the fall, hot chocolate in the winter. He is all things I love and yet I still fight. The other part of me fights my heart to keep my distance. How just hours ago I told myself the hate I had for Conrad was always going to be just that, irreversible hurt that he caused. It’s the sweetest torture I could bare in the fact that really, by the end of it my mind is set on just getting to be with him again. No matter what his games are.

It’s pathetic, but my heart strings pull a little whenever I hear his footsteps upstairs. When I can tell if he’s coming to see me or not. I like knowing he likes to be around me once more. It almost covers up the fact that he hurt me so bad. I’m not idiot, however. I wish I were in some cases, but I’m not blinded completely by my love. With every advance, I find a way to make it platonic. He’s my friend.

He said he missed me, our friendship bond. I know that he is a man of his word. I should not work myself up, I shouldn’t expect so much. I shouldn’t jump into his arms because he says go. I think rationally, I use my head. I let my heart race and my cheeks flush but ultimately my brain will stop me from messing about again. So part of me finds it sad when the power goes out later that day. For both the house and myself. It’s childish how quickly I jump in search of Conrad. I have to remind myself not to hold onto him, not to yell I told you so.

I call for his name quietly through the halls, feeling the chipping paint under my finger tips. It’s still fresh, but bumpy. A previous project of Susannah’s from when her paint brushes never seemed to dry out. It’s hard to tell if she never finished her projects that summer. Or even if she never finished any.

In the dark, it’s almost more clear to see where her brush strokes end. Where the moonlight illuminates the white and blues, you can see the divides between old and new. God, if she were any less attentive it would surely be the end of this house. It was in great condition, but some things were out of place, uncared for simply because Susannah’s mind went a mile a minute.

Smiling, I let my hands run over the wall, feet planting on the cold wood. I could feel it through my socks, with the lights out and the heat stuttering to a halt.

“Y/n/n, hey.” He sounded breathless, coming up from behind me. I hadn’t even noticed the stomping of his feet up the staircase as my fingers danced along the wall. So caught up in the past I find it that sometimes I forget that I’m living in my present. Looking around my metaphorical room in my mind, I see my chosen family. I see his brother as mine, his mother as mine. I see myself as a child again running through the sand and tracking mud through the dining room.

I know deep down I can not keep holding on, keep on keeping myself back. I can never give Conrad peace, but I can give him my sunshine, my best. He would always have a friend in me. I set my heart free then, fingers stuck to the wall, eyes flickering to my feet. I let go of my heart break and my solemn silences I throw at my loved ones for guilt. I let my walls down, I take Conrad’s hand, and I shake my head. His smile is warm, his eyes loving. He still needs me, he always has. He still loves me and my heart is racing. I finally feel like I have him back.

“You okay?” Back in reality, I’m aware that I’m not actually holding onto his hand, and Conrad isn’t really smiling at me. My heart is still in its cage and I have fallen victim to my own mind again. Conrad is not mine.

Clearing my throat, I lick at the corners of my lips. When I shake my head this time, I know it’s real because Conrad is looking at me questioningly. He is not in love with me, he is not drooling over me. The power is still out and our muddy footprints mean nothing to him anymore.

“We blew a fuse, but the generators dead. We’re just going to have to stick it out.” I nodded again, looking up at him with doe eyes. My lips were glossy with a sheen coat of spit from how much I licked them, but at them nervously. Yet, he didn’t even spare me a glance. It was almost like he was waiting on something.

“You can say it.” He finally sighed.

“Say what?” His eyes caught mine, seeing just how intently my eyes focused on his dimples and the bridge of his nose decorated with delicate freckles. I cleared my throat.

“You told me so.” He smiled, punching my shoulder playfully. He could tell my mind was drifting, he could see it, I saw the way his eyes softened. My gentle smile turned into a shit-eating grin.

A beat passed, he continued waiting on me in the dark room. I liked it in some odd ways. Enjoyed having him waiting on me for once. It wasn’t the same. How my heart waited for his apologies for so long, how I expected it because I knew one day he would come back to me to make things right in his own way. But somehow, his desire for my once overlooked jokes and brushed off comments made my cheeks warm. Like more than me in this moment, he wanted the normal us back.

“Are you going to…” He voice trailed off, my feet picked up against the cold wood floor.

“Why don’t you start the fire? I’m going to get some blankets.” I tucked the hair behind my ear, practically running to the staircase. He nodded, not that I could see it, but the silence confirmed that he had forgotten that I couldn’t truly see his nod. That along with a soft hum of approval from him.

“Oh, and Conrad.” He hummed again. His eyes glistened in the moonlight, shining brighter than any other object standing in the hallway. He waited on me patiently, slowly inching closer.

“I told you so.”

The best of blankets and pillows sprawled put along the living room floor helped to further nestle us against the foot of our white couch. The snowfall and the storm felt less like an inconvenience but a gift.

I was reminded of my childhood. Of first snowfalls and broken ice skates. Red noses and icy hair. I remember how even after the facade of perfect holidays and new years kisses faded into nothing more than a dream, how my heart still soared with excitement each coming fall. How I couldn’t wait to see the snowy powder decorating my front lawn. I get reminded of why I drove so long to see Conrad. Of his warm hugs and his soft mittens. Wearing his hats and stumbling around in the backyard. I feel less hurt by the company than I once did a few days ago. I feel blessed that by some miracle, fate had string Conrad and I back together. That his hands would forever paint my hands in a gentle love we only held, and his whispers of senseless jokes he mumbled tiredly were only mine to laugh at.

The fire crackled, roaring feverishly through the night. The snow and wind pounded against the sides of the house, and despite the chills running through my toes and my fingers, I felt warmer inside than before, rekindling our inside jokes and fueling ourselves for even more.

Soon, our soft laughter and ongoing conversations died out. Our eyes glued to the flames, I tried to catch a glimpse into Conrad’s eyes. I wanted to know what the fire would look like reflected into his blue eyes. Instead, I caught his gaze locked onto my face.

I felt embarrassed, in a way. Vulnerable under his gaze. I felt my cheeks heat up and my body tingle. I felt like a school girl again.

“Y/n/n.” He called for me softly. The only way I was sure that he’d even said it was the fact that my eyes were so trained in his pink lips. I nodded slowly.

“Why did you come down here? Why now?” Even though the question was serious, I couldn’t help but to smile at his curiosity in my life.

Taking a deep breath, I watched his flat face turn into a welcoming grin.

“Lately, I’ve just been caught up in the past, I guess. I’m just so used to coming home every winter to Steven and Belly in the living room already fighting. And my dad and mom arguing about what decorations playfully.” Conrad laughed like he could picture it. He’d never really been in my house during the holidays. Sure, the Fisher family would stop by every few months when the distance became too much, but holiday’s were usually spent apart.

“I guess when I came home this year and that wasn’t there, I kind of freaked a little. I mean, Steven just left, Belly was too caught up in her own life to care about what I wanted to do, how much time we had left. My dad was too busy to stop by and…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I almost allowed the words to slip, how the final straw was that even with the mess of my family, at least at one point I had Conrad. I had his gentle hands and his quiet promises to hold onto. When everything went to hell, it was like losing the last bit of peace. “I wanted to be somewhere I wouldn’t feel alone, I guess.” I replaced my words with this. Hoping he’d understand how much he meant to me, how much all of it meant to me.

The single puff of air coming harshly through his mouth in a sigh reminded me just how close we were. How I could feel each word falling from his lips fanning over my shoulder. We were sharing a blanket, so close yet our bodies so far.

“Y/n.” He sounded more serious. During my confession, I found a home in the floorboards. Feeling safer confessing to the air than to a man who destroyed me not so long ago. My eyes hesitated to meet his, but I could see just how serious he was.

“I regret what happened between us more than anything I’ve ever done in my life. I know I can’t reverse that, but please never say you are alone. I swear to you, no matter what, I’m there.” It was rare to hear such thing from Conrad. Maybe a grunt of a hug to assure my feelings were always appreciated. But I could see the sincerity in his face, his voice was dripping with guilt. He meant it, every word.

Nodding my head, I silently thanked him. I watched his eyes search my face. How his lips parted but shut quickly. He decided against continuing, but it was like an unspoken apology was being said between us in that moment.

With gravity pulling us together, it was only in my nature to protect my heart. I had to rip us apart before I gave in without knowing if we’d ever be the same. If I kissed him and it was just a winter fling, I couldn’t take another heartbreak.

So, in our silence, I moved my hand between us. The pad of my thumb brushing away the charcoal from the fire dusting just under his cheek. I watched how he shivered and backed away, eyes fluttering shut. All while I bit at my lip, delicate in the way I rubbed away the dust.

“Are my hands cold?” I remained focused in on him, my lips curled into a smile seeing his reaction to my touch, how he shivered but didn’t complain. He nodded his head slowly, but his eyes were still closed.

I saw how his eyebrows furrowed, it wasn’t from discomfort, but in the low light it was hard to tell. My hand curled away, ready to ease the coldness off of his skin. I didn’t expect his own hand to cover mine, holding it against his now rosy cheeks.

“Feels nice.” He mumbled almost drowsily. His eyes still hidden behind his eyelids, his other hand found mine aimlessly, gently pressing it to his other cheek. I felt his weight sink into my palms, reveling in my touch.

The band suddenly snapped. All the tension, all the build up. He was right there, so eager, so gentle. I had to know if he was still the same boy I loved not too long ago. He had set me up for an old joke.I always wondered if I could still joke with him like this. It still gnawed at me some nights.

“It’s because you’re cold hearted.” I expected him to laugh, I hoped he would. But instead, he smiled just as genuine as his old laughter, melting into my touch more than I thought he could ever. I hadn’t been able to predict what he would tell me. Couldn’t have read his lips even if I could see into the future.

“For everyone else, maybe. But not for you.” He was as honest as a man could be. With his eyelashes fluttering open, I could see it in his eyes now. How they looked back at me wide and awake. I felt my stomach flip. There was something there I had previously missed. Dancing along with the glowing of the fire in his irises, was the same spark he once carried when I was his and he was mine.

I didn’t even get to challenge it, teasing him and making him repeat his confessions. My lips stuttered on the first syllable, just before his hands smushed my cheeks with the force of how he grabbed me. He was firm, but not aggressive. He could never hurt me.

His lips molded against mine perfectly in my mind. He tasted like mint and hot chocolate. My hands tangled in his hair, his palms flat against my waist. With so little space between us, so much fever and pent up frustration, air became harder and harder to get. With each touch of his fingers, it was like tiny fires being sparked across my body.

He hadn’t even had to tell me what he felt then. Neither did I. In that moment my walls crumbled beneath my feet. All resistance was gone. In Conrad’s grasp, I felt less alone.

I knew it then. To Conrad, my mind games I played on myself, my temper and the storms that would inevitably cloud up my sunniest days, the fact that I could never give him peace did not matter. We would always be enough.

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher angst #conrad x reader #tsitp conrad #conrad x you #tsitp s2 #tsitp x reader #tsitp x y/n #fisher x reader #team conrad #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader

[anakinskywalker97]

3 - The Rise of Skywalker

Darth Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader

Chapter Three: Failure

Summary: Vader confronts his mother and gets to see how you've been living all these years.

Warnings: slow burn I promise I have all kinds of smut for this but I'm just too attached to them not to have plot.

Vader's mind swirled with dreams of Tatooine. He was with his mother again, not being eaten by death, or beaten by slave masters, just sitting and eating in the kitchen. When he woke up to the sound of kitchen sounds he was sad that he was on Tatooine, beside a kitchen, but his mother was lost. Obi-Wan had started on breakfast sounding more like a Summa-verminoth than a Jedi. He took a breath and tried to calm himself, feeling you drooling on his shoulder brought him back down. Out of curiosity, he dipped into your mind wondering if this new force bond would let him into your dreams.

You woke with a start hands gripping onto him tightly. Your eyes wide trying to find what was wrong.

Sorry - He said realizing his error. - Wanted to see what you were dreaming about.

Kriff - you laid back down on him and he listened as your heart hammered.- I thought you were warning me.

It was a fair assumption, there had been lots of times he’d had to wake you up that way and needed you ready to fight during the war. You continued to cling to him breathing the air off his skin as different sensation moving through you. Eventually, you let out a laugh at Obi-Wan’s clanking around in the kitchen.

“We're decent.” You spoke out loud, the clanging lessened considerably.

“Breakfast is almost ready.” He called back. You got up and stretched, the bottom of your top exposing the flesh of your stomach. Your eyes caught him looking and you gave him a wide smile. You went to the bathroom and Vader went into the kitchen.

Obi-Wan had made himself quite a home. He moved gracefully around the small kitchen in his sleep clothes and an apron. Vader laughed at the sight. A genuine laugh, striking his own ears as strange. His former masker turned to look at him and he saw that he was even wearing a headband to keep his hair out of his face while sleeping. The tears forming in his eyes irritated them, but the sting wasn't enough to take away the pure hilarity of Obi-Wan’s state of undress.

Something misty moved into Obi-Wan’s presence as a sad smile formed on his face.

“That’s a sound I haven't heard since, oh gosh I would say the time Windu missed a step on the stairs to the chancellor's office.” He laughed at the memory of 13-year-old Anakin howling with laughter. The memory held the usual painful sting of the abuse suffered in that setting, but the memory made him continue to laugh. He thought it was the funniest thing to ever happen. Obi-Wan had to usher him out into an elevator because his voice was echoing around the main lobby.

Obi-Wan’s eyes held an emotion that Vader certainly could not handle. Obi-Wan knew this and turned back to the stove. Vader moved his attention to you. You had washed up and were starting to fold the blankets in the living room. He was going to get up when you called out to him.

Stay - So he did. It only took you a few minutes and he watched the sunlight pour in through the windows bathing the clay walls in light. It would be hot and hurt like hell. But being in the light surrounded by family made him happy.

______________

You watched Anakin closely. His moods seemed to be leveling out which was good. Other than his brief thought about murdering you and Obi-Wan he’d appeared to be coming down from whatever bullshit Palpatine had him cooked up on. Then there was the deeper truth of the situation eating you.

At his core, according to lore, Anakin was a Sith.

He was made by the Sith for the Sith. They willed him into existence, and the force chose his mother. The real question is, does that mean he’s incapable of choosing good? Is the dark side of the force really that separate from the light? You kept these observations and thoughts well hidden in your mind.

Hearing him laugh added years onto the end of your life. That laugh was so sweet, all the times you had been the cause you could remember as they were so rare. The laugh he gave Obi-Wan was a genuine laugh, careless and loud, completely different from the chuckle you could occasionally earn during the war.

The three of you ate together and discussed plans. Anakin wanted to see his mother’s grave before leaving. You took the ship over to the location and landed it. You stood at the edge of the ramp not wanting to intrude but also curious about what his beginnings looked like.

Stay here - he said firmly. Something was bothering him and you assumed it was the intense heat landing on his raw skin. Even fully covered it would hurt badly.

I will - you answered watching him walk out into the sand halfway and then stop. He turned back to look at you for a moment before his shoulders slumped slightly.

Come with me - His voice sounded frustrated and defeated at the same time. You moved out into the heat and walked through the sand. As soon as he reached you he pulled your hood up over your head. You had taken one of his fancy black robes from his ship and fully intended to never give it back. You walked a distance before you saw the little marker made of wood. It was freshly painted meaning someone here cared enough to maintain it. Surely that should improve his mood.

You looked out on the horizon while he knelt before his mother’s grave.

“I failed again.” He said simply. He put his hand in the sand and was quiet. “This is my former Padawan.” You came to stand beside him and sat down when you realised he was going to talk about you.

“Hi” You said softly, not entirely sure if you were supposed to speak or not.

“I let her down too, and Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan, and The Order. I said I wasnt going to mess it up again but I really messed it up this time.”

There was something about his voice that made you able to look at him and see who he was as a child. The rest of the things he said he did not speak out loud.

“She brought me back and this time, I’ll try to do it right.” He took a deep breath. “Here at the end of everything, I will get it right. I promise.”

You gave him a reassuring smile and grabbed his hand.

“He’s in good hands. I won’t fail him again.” The words were heavy, but if she were here it’s exactly what you would have said to her. Anakin’s eyes were sharp on you for a long moment but you didn't break contact with the sand in front of you. You ran your fingers through it and you felt a feeling of hate wash over him. On instinct, your body prepared you for a fight.

Anakin reached over and you let him pull your hand away from the sand. You wondered if it was a customs thing. Before you could apologize he was saying goodbye and was pulling you along. You felt his force presence holding your hood up against the wind. Walking towards the sun, in the wind, through the sand was awful.

“I don’t want to be rude.” You called out against the wind. “But I really hate it here. The heat and light is one thing, but sand.” You groaned. “It’s fucking awful.”

Anakin barked out a laugh so sudden in made you jump.

“Trying living here.” He said in a happier mood.

“Only for you.” You said softly, unsure if he heard it in the wind.

____________________________________________

Vader inspected the road towards your apartment building. It was a seemingly alright area, it was late and this part of the city seemed to be asleep. The building was well-built and on the more expensive side of things. Good security. He followed you down the hall and held your bag while you looked for your keys. The door to your apartment opened and he hated how eager he was to see your space.

It was sparse but homey. A large note was stuck on your fridge. Bright red letters saying “CALL ME” You pulled it down and sighed. Your kitchen and living room were divided by a large island. A large balcony wrapped around the living room, something he wasn't too keen on. Sure you were on the 150th floor, but still. Sliding glass doors were unacceptable. His attention went back to the note posted on the fridge.

“Obi-Wan, the spare bedroom is on the right, the sheets are clean if you want to settle in.” Obi-Wan gave a nod and said goodnight. You turned to him. “Two options for you, I'm on the left or you can take the-” He had already started down the hallway to your room. He could hear your phone call form there as he looked around.

This looked more like what the inside of your mind felt like. Two large bookcases filled with worn paperbacks. You bed was a messy of blankets, quilts, and pillows. You had pictures on your wall and stuff cluttering the tops of your dressers.

“Hey.” He heard you say on the phone and listened in. He couldn't make out what the person on the end of the line was saying but they were shouting at you. He moved down the hallway into the kitchen. If you were in trouble he wanted to know about it.

“I know it was stupid.” You said pinching the bridge of your nose. You were leaning on the countertop. He picked you up by the hips and you made a sound of surprise. He turned you and sat you on the countertop. He stood between your legs giving you no personal space. “Sorry, it’s nothing.” You said hurriedly. He liked this game. His hands trailed up your thighs and he watched you squirm.

“How did you escape him?” A female voice asked. He assumed it was a friend by the concerned but angry tone.

“I didn't escape exactly - Look I sort of -” Your voice was nervous.

“Please tell me you didn't do something stupid.” He realized the voice on the other end of the phone was Ahsoka. He was surprised for a moment, then happy that your friendship had survived everything.

“No, I definitely did something stupid. But I’m home now, and I’m safe. We can figure everything else out later.”

“Just - Call me in the morning and don’t leave like that again.” She was angry with you.

“I’ll try not to.”

“Thank you. Now to go to sleep.” Ahsoka seemed happy with your apology.

“I will, I’ll give you all the details later. Just don’t tell anyone I’m back. I’m still sort of working on something.”

“Kriff.” Ahsoka sighed. “That’s never a good thing. Talk to you in the morning.” She hung up and you looked up at Vader.

“How is she?” He asked enjoying the way the kitchen light illuminated your eyes.

“She’s pissed. But other than that she’s doing well.” Your eyes were honest and he was happy. Knowing you were tired he picked you up and carried you to your room. He threw you down on the bed and started to properly snoop through your things. He’d hold up the odd item and you would tell him about the story behind it. Something you had picked up or been given as a gift on your many travels as a smuggler.

He opened your dresser drawer, curious to see what you normally wore. You were still in a rebel flight suit with one of his robes. Denim and cotton. No Jedi linens, however, your closet was full of long robes of varying thickness. He could feel you watching him, but he didn't care. He was enjoying himself too much. Your clothes were nice, soft, clean and well kept.

“What are you doing?” You finally asked sounding slightly exasperated.

“I’m not sure.” He answered honestly. He wanted to know how you were living, maybe wanted to see what his life could have been like. Perhaps he was trying to assess if he could see himself in the space long term. He let his guard down so you could have access to his emotions hoping it would be enough reassurance about his intentions. He was probably being creepy, but he had spent so much time thinking you were dead. To know you had been here occupying space, having things, friends, a ship of your own, a life without him. Suddenly he wanted to know everything, partially to ensure you were alright, the rest was purely selfish.

“Well, you can sift through my underwear till your heart's content. I’m gonna shower and get changed.” You said in a sleepy voice. He wanted nothing more than to shower with you but he knew with the state of his skin it wouldn't be a good idea. “I’ll get you re-bandaged after.”

You went into your attached bathroom and Vader followed. He leaned in the doorway and you smiled at him before taking your clothes off.

“I have a lot of things to catch up on.” He finally said while you turned the shower on. You got in and it was easier for him to open up, he shut the door and sat on the toilet. “I thought you were gone, but you have this whole life. Things, stories, plants” He thought of the cactus on your window sill. It was easier for him to breath with the damp hot air.

“Still not great with plants.” You said.

“Still, I missed out on the one thing I wanted.” The words threatened to crush him but he said them anyway. The one thing he wanted most of all he was told was gone, to find out it was happening without him… Hurt.

“You're here now aren't you?” You turned the shower off and grabbed a clean towel.

“I’m still not sure if I can come back from what I’ve done.” He answered and closed his eyes wanting to avoid your expression to this truth.

“If you leave me again, I’ll kill you. I'll drag you back here and end you” Your voice was serious and he looked over at you. Your hair was twisted up in the towel and you were wrapped in a thick pink bathrobe. He wanted to laugh, but your voice had a power to it he was unsure of. “See, now I’m the dark and possessive one.” You gave him a wide smile. “If you cheat on me though, I’ll hand you over to Ahsoka.”

The concept of cheating on you was completely alien. You had always been the first and last thing on his mind.

“Now get naked.” You commanded and pulled a first aid pack out from under the sink. He got undressed and was happy to see you had a heavy duty kit, while also being troubled as you opened it. It had seen heavy use and had lots of various tubs and jars added to it. You got to work on him and he relaxed letting you do it. You would win if he fought with you, and you were tired.

He let you tell him stories of various jobs you had done while the salve set. You bandaged him nicely. Moving back into your room he looked at the bed feeling unsure again.

“Will the air bother you if I open the window?”

“No.”

You opened it and the night air rushed into the room.

“Have you never had anyone attack through the windows?”

“No one would be that stupid.” You said easily pulling him down on his side of the bed

#anakin skywalker #star wars #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #obi wan kenobi #darth vader #darth vader x reader

[movedmovedsoup]

I AM ON MY KNEES RN BRO PLEASE MAKE ANOTHER ROBIN FANFIC 🙏 Preferably one with like angst ykyk. Like where the reader likes Robin but he won’t admit he likes her too. But then in they end up together somehow 🫶

YOU KNOW IT BAE🫶🫶🙏🙏 YOU ASKED AND I DELIVERED🙏🙏

‘likewise’

Robin Arellano x gn! reader! PART 1!

it had always been you three, you, finney, and robin. well before finney had come into the picture, it was just you and robin. robin and you. the two of you were attached at the hip from the very beginning of time. you lived in the same neighborhood as him, just four houses down from his. your mothers were best friends and as children, you two would have play dates. because your father wasn’t exactly present in your life by choice, as a child who couldn’t be left alone when your mother went to work. you stayed the early mornings and late afternoons with either uncle arellano or ms arellano. and of course, with robin included. robin was in every class with you, from kindergarten to now. during elementary, he met a kid named ‘finney blake’ around the fourth grade. and from there on out, getting introduced to him the three of you were a trio. never to be broken or separated. you all never really seemed to clash together, finney being the peacekeeper, robin the protector, and you being a mixture of the both but mostly acting as the voice of reason between the two boys if one or both were in and out of their heads. it was 1978, the semi-end of the school year, splat in the middle of april. it was nothing but rain this month, at the time you were laying on the warm and comfortable bed. reading some novel you kept on pushing back to read for a while now. considering your bed was pushed against the wall you had the perfect view and sound of the rain doing its rhythm of pitter pattering against the sidewalk and window. it had seemed to definitely put you to a calm, curling into the knitted blanket you owned as you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier with every breath. it was like nothing could seem to disturb the peace you ha-

“thwack!”

immediately you shot right back up from the previously relaxed state of comfort you were in. fear quickly catching inside of your heart as you hurriedly whipped your head around the room to see if anything had fallen. until another thud was heard. it had finally hit you, it was at the window. grumbling curses under your breath, you slid open the window poking your head out only to get hit with a pebble to the corner of your mouth. “oh shit-“ you heard a voice say. immediately looking down the original patience you had immediately turned to irritation. “robin?!” you practically screamed out, hand reaching over to rub the slightly stinging spot of your mouth. right there, down below the window was none other than robin arellano. he gave you a crooked smile knowing he was definitely in for a scolding. “aha…yeah..it’s me..! er…the one ‘nd only..!” he sheepishly called out. as you were about to slam the window shut on him you noticed the red stains around his hands and arms. it didn’t take you long to yell at him to go over to the front door despite his protests for you to somehow magically throw him up to your bedroom, which was on the second floor.

running down the carpeted stairs, fumbling over your feet as you did so, mother was over at work doing some double time which left you alone. either way she didn’t mind robin at all, of course she didn’t. as you swung open the door as expected, the boy in the flesh was leaning on the door frame. balance getting slightly tilted as you swung the door open. looking at him and his open wounds with a scrutinizing look. before letting out a sigh and allowing to roll your eyes at the boy. he knew how much you hated him getting hurt. often flying into a semi-rage and cussing him out like there was no tomorrow whenever he got into a fist fight for some stupid reason, finney often of times having to shut the both of you up. but this time, you were silent, silent as you could be of course. pulling him into the living room he was so familiar with as you locked the door. directing him to sit down on the sofa, you quickly placed a towel down on the furniture as he was sopping wet. grabbing the supplies you needed, you sat across from him with a visible frown. the frown that made his heart sink almost. but of course only as a friend right? friends cared about each other like this right? yeah, yeah they did. “so.” you started off, giving him a sharp glance as you tended to a ugly looking cut on his shoulder. “so.” he mumbled back, mimicking the rolling eyes, only to be cut off by you giving him a harsh shove. as he yelped out in surprise you demanded a explanation to his wounds, of course you know how he got them, you just wanted to hear the conformation from robin himself. “robin you seriously need to quit with this shit! do you not understand?? you go to me because your own mother hates seeing you beat up and two inches close to de-“

“hey-!” he quickly cut you off furrowing his brows, “i wouldn’t say two inches close to death technically moose blacked out mid way so i won.” he explained with a proud smile on his face, but seeing the expression you had on your own made it quickly wash away. with a guilty sigh he lowered his head, reaching his uninjured hand over to your arm, rubbing the side of your shoulder as if to reassure you. he wasn’t sure why he did the things he did, well his actions and the way he acted with you to be exact. whenever the two of you walked home from school he’d always shove you to the, in his words: ‘safer part of the street’ and always judged harshly at the boys you liked or the boys that liked you. or did little actions that brought him comfort, so he did the same actions to you, in hopes it’ll bring you some sort of comfort as well. and much to his luck it always did. he noticed how your shoulders slumped from the tensity you were feeling about him originally, letting the soft spot you had for the boy show. you nodded slowly, trying to wrap your head around the boy’s thought process as per usual, he allowed his hand to move upwards just the smallest bit, tucking away a stray strand of hair you had, giving a slight smile to you in return. a few minutes passed and you were almost finished up with everything he busted. the last thing was the gash on his lip. for some reason you could practically hear your heart quicken as you inched closer to get a better look, and felt relief when your heart didn’t just jump out of your chest as you tilted his head closer with a gentle nudge. when you were younger doing these up and close wounds definitely weren’t as nerve racking and panic inducing as they now are.

it seemed like the both of you felt that way. as robin tried to keep his eyes from looking anywhere else but admiring you. from the lampshade, the tv that wasn’t even turned on, the tacky rug. anything really. he had felt relief for just a moment as you announced you were finished. he let out a breathy laugh, one of nervousness as he could feel his face heat up. as the two of you semi-pulled back from the close range it suddenly went awkward and silent as if you both were waiting for something. in a way, you had come to accept the feelings you had for robin, testing the waters as you slightly shifted yourself forward, closer to him. eyes closing in anticipation. robin on the other hand..he wasn’t exactly..the most open with his feelings. part of him wanted to reel himself away from you while the other wanted to stay put. it only took a few seconds to realize nothing was going on as embarrassment tackled you like a coat. quickly opening your eyes as robin lowered his gaze, shaking his head ever so slightly. “uh…i gotta go y/n..my ma is probably wondering where i am..” he mumbled quietly. not even able to look at you in the eyes as he got up, a flash of feelings just washed over you as you quickly sprung to your feet. following him with furrowed brows. but suddenly, just the look he gave you once he saw you going after him, it just made you stop. letting out a sigh, you nodded and sat back down on the couch, already trying to block him out of your mind as you cleaned up the place. once hearing the door shut, you couldn’t help but to be overcame with emotions. he’s lead you on for a whole year now, with the stolen glances from across the room, how he would carry you place to place whenever you complained the slightest about your legs hurting, grabbing your books and holding them for you without even asking, hell he even took care of you once when you were practically on your death bed sick. even though it was a flimsy job. not to mention every friday you’d go with him to the drive in, it alternated between the two of you choosing movies. those little gestures seemed more than bittersweet now.

he’s been leading you on and on and on and all the sudden you get this? this in return? you could practically feel your heart turn more and more into shambles as you just sat there, on the couch staring blankly across the room. trying to process whatever the hell just happened. it wasn’t long before your lip started to quiver and tears threatened to spill out. you really fucked up now.

that was six months ago.

hello!!! i hope you all enjoyed this little part one of a request !! because i know i did😭 it’s definitely refreshing to write something more on the sadder side. and once again I DONT PROOFREAD! we die like men💪

#the black phone 2022 #bruce yamada #the grabber #finney blake #robin arellano x reader #robin arellano #robin the black phone #finney the black phone #the black phone x reader #vance hopper #vance hopper x reader #bruce yamada x reader #gwen blake #vance hopper x you #billy showalter #angst with a happy ending #wonton writings #two part fic

[evita-shelby]

I love all of your work. I keep trying to imagine dad tommy from fic where his little girl comes home declaring she's got a boyfriend, and him panicking because she's like 6 and he can't scare the little boy without having his wife (the reader) chewing his head for it.

Omg thank you 😊

Okay for context, Florence was born in 1929 and is reader and Tommy’s youngest child (and his favorite of all four).

And i felt the prompt went better by being from Tommy's pov to focus more on Tommy and Florence’s relationship.

Other shelby children: Charlie and Gabriel (the Shelby Boys) and Diane (Diane Elizabeth)

Six years old

Gif by @samcoving

"Who's your new friend, Flora?" Tommy asked his youngest as he kissed the top of her head and then took his place at the head of the dinner table.

Frankly, Tommy thought it wholly unnecessary that they were using the large dining room they use to host gatherings instead of the more private family dining room.

But Florence Eleanor Shelby had demanded a dinner party for tonight, so he dressed for dinner and promised his wife not to overreact when he learned why.

A promise his wife had bet three shillings he'd break before the first course.

"My boyfriend." She beamed at him.

It took everything in him not to spit the water he had been drinking. He was going to need a drink, but Y/N had a strict don't drink in front of the children or I'll have your guts for garters, or so help me God, Thomas Michael Shelby policy.

"Hello, sir, I'm Andrew Roberts, pleasure to meet you." The little boy said courteously and waited until Tommy acknowledged him to resume eating.

Because in the pantomime that is life, his little girl attached herself to the son of Billy Kimber’s accountant.

Can't scare the boy, can't be rude or else Roberts will see it as a provocation, so he acts like this is just another friend his favorite child has brought over.

"I'm gonna marry him, daddy." Six-year old Florence tells him and you make it worse by indulging her in this fantasy.

The last thing he wants is for one of his children to marry young like his parents and the John did.

"But the girl is six," his wife’s says, "you're worrying for nothing."

"You're wrong, love," he tells her later once the dinner is over.

Six turns to eleven and she and Andrew remain thick as thieves.

She was bold, bolder than her best friend, the Princess Margaret, and Andy Roberts is shy and cautious like Tommy can assume his father was.

Calls him her boyfriend still, and he reminds Y/N that its way past being a phase.

"They're children, Tom" she shakes her head even as she does some last minutes things on the children's matching costumes.

Eleven turns to sixteen and Andrew nervously asks him for permission to ask Florence to a dance.

He has a shotgun on his lap when he gives the teenage boy his answer.

Florence locks herself in her room in tears and his wife shakes her head. "There's no harm in a dance. If you don't let her go, she'll just escape through the window and steal the car again."

So he listens to his wife and the next morning he apologized to his daughter and made her promise she wouldn't do anything stupid.

Sixteen turns to twenty three and they've been featured in everything from Tabloids to Time Magazine as the United Kingdom's entrepreneurial power couple.

Florence had invited them to a dinner party at her place in Mayfair. She had news and she had made him swear on the lives of his five grandchildren (by his three older children) not to overreact.

"Mummy, Daddy, I invited you today because Andy and I have news." She's nervous, but doesn't show it. His little girl had taken over the family businesses (the legal ones)and blossomed into a strong, independent and beautiful woman like her mother.

He knew what was coming.

Thomas Shelby had cornered Andrew Roberts after he bought the engagement ring.

But Roberts had sworn him to secrecy until the tine was right.

"Out with it, girl, your mother's not getting any younger." He tries to lighten the mood at the cost of his wife subtlely kicking him ubder the table.

"We're getting married!" They try to say it in unison, but nervous Andrew had said it first.

"You knew, Tommy?" his wife asked him suprised.

"Known since she was six."

#tommy and florence #florence shelby #reader is a side character #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy is a good dad #dad!tommy #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x wife!reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader

[mishapocalyse]

Soldier boy x reader? 🤭 but angst-y. The plot no clue…. maybe a cheating related one? You know he is a man whore at the least. So yea, cheating, he’s caught, but reader always knew but never addressed it because the ole’ times (lol)

Stairway To Heaven

Description: You always knew that your relationship with Soldier Boy would not last. You always knew he was unfaithful. And that broke your heart. It killed you.

Pairing: Cheating! Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Soldier Boy is his own warning; language; implied smut;cheating; tw suicide, self harm, blood, abuse

Note: Please for the love of all things holy, if you are struggling, there are people who love you/ my DM's are always open and there is always help if you need it. Take care and read this at your own risk. This prompt and fit made me sob.

There's a lady who's sure All that glitters is gold

A candle was lit on your window sill, the flame flickering with the wind that flew in. The air was frigid, sending chills down your back that caused you to tremble.

You were sitting on the floor, your back to the wall. It had been a long night, longer it seemed without him by your side.

Soldier Boy.

Ben.

And she's buying a stairway to heaven

Your mom lived only a couple of hours away—the next couple cities over.  Which was where you had went to. You didn't want to spend the night alone. The apartment that you owned and let Ben live felt too empty after he packed his things and left you high and dry.

The same apartment where he had come home, reeking of cheap perfume and sex. It was not the first time this had happened. A couple times even finding him in your bed with someone else.

It surely wasn't the last time either.

When she gets there she knows

You remembered the childhood home that your mother still resided in even after the divorce.  The first week of summer passed quickly, your mother was beyond happy seeing you again. 

The months that you both spent away from each other were quickly caught up with long conversations the first two days of you arriving there. 

Soon after, everything seemed to be okay.

You didn't even let Ben know where you went. And you knew he would come back to the apartment once he had cooled off.

Like clockwork, he called almost every night the first week you had been there. 

This night was different though. 

If the stores are all closed With a word she can get what she came for

The phone kept ringing and you knew in the back of your mind you should have answered that call. You crept from your bed as she wandered around the house, taking in the overbearing, thick presence of anxiousness that wafted over you.  You held your head in your hands, shuddering.

Tonight was the night. 

Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh And she's buying a stairway to heaven

The night where everything unraveled at once. 

There was something about the way you looked in the full length mirror that was attached to the wall in the bathroom. 

The way your eyes were empty—void of any expression.  The exhaustion of your nerves,  the heaviness of your body, drooping with every slight movement you had made. 

There's a sign on the wall But she wants to be sure 'Cause you know, sometimes words have two meanings

The argument that the both of you and Soldier Boy had gotten into--you wished you had just left it alone. Like you always had. This was the only time he had come home drunk.

You had heard the door open, you had already been sitting on the couch waiting for him. Soldier Boy smelled absolutely terrible. You greeted him from the living room, offering to help him get cleaned up. 

He brushed you off and sat in the recliner.  Your shoulders slumped as you went to bring him dinner.  Ben didn’t eat that night.  Instead he took to drinking.   You wandered away from him clutching the hem of your shirt.  

It would have been best to leave him alone. 

You tinkered with the magnets on the fridge for the third time today, before you realized someone was standing in the doorway. you faced Soldier Boy--Ben, taking in his demeanor.  

Your eyes widened.

You froze. 

He was drunk.  Visibly angry, when he stepped forward.

Knowing that you did not do anything to anger him at any point—sent cold tingles down your spine. You edged forward, trying your best to calm him down. 

A firm punch to your face sent you falling backwards onto the floor.  Quickly standing back up, winded from Ben hitting you, your cheek already beginning to redden.  

“You lazy bitch.  You’re a fuckin’ waste of time.” He spit, lunging forward to grab your hair, dragging you across the room.  

“Shoulda’ fuckin’ left you.” He shoved you forward, you stopped yourself from falling completely forward.

You refused to say a word, not wanting to worsen the situation. It was no use. No matter if you did anything or not would not save you from him. 

You climbed back onto your feet and shoved him.

"Get out! I never fucking want to see you again." You screeched. He stumbled back himself.

"Fine. You're a horrible fuck anyway. Wish I never fuckin' met you!" He hollered back, spit flying.

In a tree by the brook There's a songbird who sings Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven

You sat directly in front of that mirror, wanting to know exactly what the individual staring back at you wanted. 

It was you of course staring back—however, it only reminded you of how indubitably unimportant you were to the rest of the world. 

It kept spinning with or without you. 

The soft whirring of luminescent bulbs lulled you into a trance, a beckoning call ringing in your ears,  the painful chill of realization hit you. 

There's a feeling I get When I look to the west And my spirit is crying for leaving

You were tired. 

Not tired in the sense of needing to rest, more along the lines of —being tired of recklessly moving forward in life, only to receive the harsh reminder that you would always be deemed worthless by your own self-deprecation. 

In my thoughts I have seen Rings of smoke through the trees And the voices of those who stand looking

No matter how hard you fought to be something more than just a girl who used to be. 

You were not a bad person. 

You were only noticing the bad things that happened around you. Your friends loved you, your parents loved you, you had somewhat of a good life and spent every waking moment trying to be the best you could be. 

Still, with every waking moment you spent reliving all of the times you spent living with that man who thought loved you.

He only used you for his own personal gain.

Ben Gilman didn't give a shit about you.

And it's whispered that soon If we all call the tune Then the piper will lead us to reason

Your face darkened, thoughts processing,  a few unnoticed tears running down your cheeks, the uncontrollable urge to cry out for help. 

To cry out to anyone who could possibly be within an earshot of you.  Someone who could run from just around the corner.  

You held your knees, slowly and quietly rocking forwards and backwards.  Bated breath—a heaving heavy sigh, you sat in the deafening silence of your bathroom. 

And a new day will dawn For those who stand long And the forests will echo with laughter

Torn asunder, the scintillating aches, clawing their way out of your heart as it  dimmed—ugly and dark. 

Y/N , daughter to Tim and Amelia. Friends to William Butcher, Frenchie, Hughie Campbell, Annie and MM.

Y/N, the young woman who wanted to graduate finally and move up in the world.

Y/N, the girl who wanted so desperately to be told that she was loved, however always denying herself that same love. 

If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now It's just a spring clean for the May Queen Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run And there's still time to change the road you're on

Y/N, the girl who was now sitting in the hallway bathroom of her mother’s house, on the white tiled floor, hugging her knees.  Her own intrusive thoughts got the better of her, as well as the dismantling demons that made her feel forgotten. 

Your phone had continued to buzz, and you pulled away for only a few moments to see Ben blowing up your phone. Apologizing, saying he won't do it again. That he only wanted you. You had caved and sent him a text that you were at your mother's. The man only had been there a handful of times and knowing he most likely wouldn't show up, did not matter to you.

Again, would it really matter whether or not you were gone? 

You had a nervous tick of scratching the back of your neck a lot to cope with your anxiety and stress  that plagued your mind. 

This had happened for as long as you could remember.  It was truly something else—a different kind of person from what you used to be. 

Your head is humming and it won't go In case you don't know The piper's calling you to join him

You had picked yourself off the floor and  hunched over the sink.  Your breath shook with every inhale. 

It had yet been another night where you had repeated this vicious cycle of being torn from your bed to relive all of the events that came before. 

Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow? And did you know Your stairway lies on the whispering wind?

You relived your worst moments in life growing up trying to keep ahold of yourself for the sake of her sanity.  You reached up to rub the tired expression from your face as you heard your mothers door open, a set of steps coming down the hall.  

“I’ll be out in just a moment, Mama.  Just washing up is all.” 

Your mother didn’t hear a word.

And as we wind on down the road Our shadows taller than our soul

Her bedroom door shut as you could hear her getting back into her bed for the night. 

You sighed,  your back lightly hitting the wall, as you slid yourself back down to the floor. You could see your reflection in the metal knobs of the drawers next to you.  

There walks a lady we all know Who shines white light and wants to show

Your eyes carried a melancholic way about them that would silence the room. You stayed glued to the floor.  It was just you and your thoughts, again.  Maybe you were hearing things and finally going crazy after all you had been through. 

You shook the thought of it off as you wiped your eyes again. 

Your phone rang again. And you answered it.

"Y/N? You there?" You said nothing and sniffled.

"Sweetheart, I swear I didn't mean to hurt you, please just talk to me--"

"Goodbye, Ben." You said before you hung up.

You picked at the hangnails along your fingers, biting them.  For awhile you stayed silent. Your legs were pulled in towards your chest. Heaving your chest in and out. 

Like before, you were trying desperately trying to bottle your emotions. 

 It was no use fighting it.  

Tears leaked from the edges of your eyes. You let out a soft croak of a sob, tightening the grip you had on your head. 

How everything still turns to gold And if you listen very hard

Everyone treated you the same, always so nice, never once taken advantage of your kindness. However meeting Ben changed everything, After that, you had thought differently, as if something was wrong with you. 

You did not understand how people could love you. You weren't good enough. You never felt good enough.   

Ben had made you feel enough for a short while.

You were unhappy. 

“I only want to be happy.” 

You knew in the end -it would be as if you never existed.

What is better than to simply adhere to the fact you never mattered in this lifetime—for however much longer you had, you would spend it as if you were a reflection looking back at a shadow.  

The echo without an answer.

The footsteps washed away by the shore. 

Always lost.

Always forgotten.

That was what you were to yourself.

An echo of who you were before.

The tune will come to you at last

Your eyes furrowed, holding your breath.  You began to sweat as you reached timidly into the drawer.

There it was, where you had always kept them.  The razors that were always there.

You understood what you were doing, even before you knew what it was. You never once winced when you slid the knife down your arm.  

Oh how big a cut that little thing could make. 

It was a sickening thought that escaped your mind. There was so much blood, you were making a mess and began profusely apologizing to whoever was listening, you were by yourself on this one. 

You didn’t stop, while your own innocence and blood pooled down your arms, you laid your head back against the wall.  

Movies made it seem so easy. 

Dying.

It felt airy, a slight throb at first before you felt the pain escalate, before your nerves completely numbed. 

You felt weary, youbreathed in—but never out.  The only sound was the water dripping, and the slight buzz of the luminescent bulb of the light. 

There was not a doubt in mind that you knew you were dead. 

There was no light at the end of this tunnel. 

Nothing more than just a fragmented memory of who you once were. 

----

"Time of death, 2:45AM." The ER nurse who's uniform was stained red from your blood loss turned to Ben Gilman who's face was expressionless.

Butcher reeled back and as hard as he possibly could, swung a fist to knock Soldier Boy onto his ass. Frenchie and MM with the help of security had to hold William back.

"You did this you slimy fuck! You killed them!" he cried, hollering and spitting profanities. Soldier Boy laid on the cool linoleum, lip quivering slightly, blood drained from his nose.

He dared not to move.

"Oi, I'll fucking kill you--fucking supe. Are you happy you-" Butcher's voice had faded as they dragged him away from the room. Hughie still stood there with an expression Soldier Boy could hardly read.

When all are one and one is all, yeah To be a rock and not to roll

"You're a sick fuck" Hughie swiveled around to walk away, before freezing in place.

"I hope you're happy with yourself. I just lost my best fucking friend." With that Soldier Boy watched Hughie disappear around the corner.

He hung his head, while the nurses bustled around him, cleaning up the mess of blood around him.

The sound of the monitor still flatlining in the background.

A stray tear falling down his cheek, the leather of his leather gauntlet squeaking as he balled his fists.

And she's buying a stairway to heaven

#jensen ackles #jensen ackled #askmishapoc #the boys #the boys s3 soldier boy #i need soldier boy to snuggle with me #just not in this one #soldier boy x reader the boys #soldier boy the boys x reader #soldier boy🍦🪖🎯 #soldier boy #soldier boy the boys #the boys soldier boy

[btsqualityy]

Magical Love

Prince!Jungkook and Queen!woc (woman of color) Reader

Genre/AU/Rating: 18+, fantasy, magic!au, arranged marriage!au, royalty!au, s2l, fluff, and smut

Summary: You are a powerful Queen, ruling over the Zamia Kingdom with all of the grace, strength, wisdom, and amazing magical powers that you had since the passing of your mother left you with the throne. After 5 years of ruling on your own, you are approached by your court of advisors, The Solar Council, that marrying and producing an heir needs to be higher on your list of priorities. Of course, you don’t think you need to rush into a marriage because you know how to run your own damn kingdom. Luckily for you, your advisors took the liberties of inviting the Prince of the neighboring Pica kingdom, Jeon Jungkook, to Zamia for a “friendly visit”.

Warnings: mentions of deceased mothers, arranged marriages, sexual activity, oral sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, big dick!Jungkook, pregnancy and child birth (but nothing descriptive).

WC: 15.1K

Author’s Note: This fic is a part of @btsblackcreatorsociety​’s The Realm of Legends Event! I am so honored to be participating in this event, with several other talented POC writers in this fandom! I hope you all enjoy this because I enjoyed writing it! 

One of your favorite things about living in Zamia was how beautiful the coast looked from any area of the palace that you lived in. The palace was placed right on the shore of the ocean, it being the very first thing that anyone saw when they approached the mid-sized island that was Zamia. 

Being as though you were the daughter of the former Queen and King, you had definitely traveled more than the average citizen of Zamia but something about the shores and the smell of salty sea water always made you feel comforted and relaxed. 

That’s why you were leaning against one of the large windows in one of the main hallways of the palace, watching as the waves crashed onto the shore and met the sand. Suddenly, a small bird flew up to the window and settled itself on the ledge, right next to where your hand was resting. The little creature looked up at you expectantly and you rolled your eyes before reaching out, checking the tiny collar that the bird had on and finding a small piece of white paper attached to it.

Meet me in the formal dining room for breakfast!-Jimin

“You know, the next time that Jimin sends you, tell him to just come and find me himself like a normal person,” you told the bird and the small animal chirped happily before turning around and flying off of the ledge. 

After closing the shutters of the window, you turned to your left and made your way down the hallway to the formal dining room, your golden yellow dress billowing out behind you. 

“Good morning Y/N!” Jimin greeted you happily, his grin almost blinding as you walked into the room. 

“Morning Jimin, morning Hobi,” you replied.

“Good morning, my Queen,” Hobi said respectfully, getting up from his seat and bowing. The two clones of Hobi that were also sitting at the table bowed as well, one of them even taking the initiative to pull your chair out for you.

“I don’t know if your little delivery bird told you, but stop being lazy and having the birds do your bidding for you,” you told Jimin. 

“Yeah, Tweet told me when she made it back to me but she also said that she doesn’t mind helping me out,” Jimin smiled triumphantly. Jimin had the magical power of zoolinguism, meaning that he had the ability to communicate with animals. Ever since the two of you were kids, Jimin was always surrounded by some type of animal, speaking and listening to them as if they were human themselves. Jimin also had the gift of abjuration, which granted him the ability to cast spells that would provide healing and protection. This gift made him especially qualified for the position of your personal advisor, which you gave to him as soon as your coronation ceremony had passed. 

Hobi, like you and Jimin and every other citizen in your world, also had magical powers and his came in the form of cloning. He was able to replicate up to 20 different versions of himself at the same time and all of them were capable of independent actions and thoughts, although Hobi could predict their thoughts and actions himself if needed. 

Most people only had one or two powers but you? You possessed four of them. This wasn’t entirely surprising because your mother had four powers as well and your father had three but it still made people marvel. The first of your powers was telekinesis, the ability to move and manipulate objects without directly interacting with. The second was telepathy, which gave you the power to see, hear, and read the thoughts of others but it only worked if you were touching that person. The third was magic detection which allowed you to sense when magic was being used near and around you. The last, which was your favorite and arguably the most special, was the power of enchantment. This allowed you to give other people magical powers and abilities and unlike your other powers, you weren’t born with this one. Instead, this power was bestowed upon you on the day of your coronation when you became Queen, just like it had been with every previous monarch of Zamia, going back centuries and centuries before your birth. 

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You asked them, looking at the pitcher of orange juice that was sitting to the left of you and smiling when it rose into the air and slowly made its way over to your glass, tilting over and pouring some of the liquid inside. 

“Ah, that’s what Jimin had you meet us down here for,” Hobi spoke up. “The Solar Council wants to meet with you today.”

“Oh hell,” you groaned. “What’s wrong this time?”

“It’s nothing bad, promise!” Jimin swore. “They just have some little things that they want to discuss with you.”

“Little things?” You repeated dubiously. “It’s never anything little when the Council calls a meeting.”

“I know but I pried for some more information from Yoongi hyung and he assured me that it’s just some small matters that they want to give you updates on and stuff like that,” Hobi replied. 

“Alright,” you sighed with a shrug of your shoulders, deciding to just focus on enjoying your breakfast before being faced with whatever antics the council was up to now. 

An hour later, you were sitting on your throne in The Conference Room, where all meetings of the Solar Council took place as well as any other official Zamia business. The long square table was filled with the 6 members of the Solar Council which included Jimin, Hobi, Min Yoongi, Kim Taeyeon, Kwon Yuri and Park Sunyoung.

“Thank you so much for meeting with us on such short notice, your Highness,” Yoongi began after everyone had bowed to you and taken their seats. 

“Cut the bullshit Yoongi, and tell me why you really called this meeting,” you huffed as you regarded the leader of the Council. 

“As radiant as ever,” Yoongi joked. “We just have some things to discuss with you, as well as some updates.”

“Very well,” you acquiesced and Yoongi took a seat as Yuri stood up.

“To begin, I am delighted to inform you that the new school in the kingdom has been finished and the dedication ceremony naming it after your mother, our late Queen Thaliah, has been scheduled for two weeks from today,” she reported before taking her seat again.

“That’s amazing,” you smiled happily. “Jimin, please make sure that my schedule is completely free that day so that my father and I can spend as much time there as possible.”

“Of course, your Highness,” Jimin nodded. 

“As for some magic developments,” Taeyeon said as she stood up. “The most recent ceremony for the current group of five year olds in the kingdom happened a few days ago and their powers have fully come in.” Although everyone in the kingdom was born with magical powers, having full autonomy over them and having them to their full capacities wasn’t entirely possible until a person had turned five.

“Oh, what were their powers?” You wondered.

“One with illusion manipulation, one with time manipulation, and two with shape shifting,” Taeyeon answered. 

“God, I feel bad for the parents of the two with shape shifting,” Yoongi tsked. “My older brother is a shapeshifter and that can be difficult.”

“Well, it should be easier for them now that their magic has fully come in,” you pointed out as Taeyeon took her seat. “Thank you, Councilwoman Kim. Councilwoman Park?”

“The small famine that the farmers were experiencing has passed and we’ll be able to resume our weekly famers’ markets,” Sunyoung announced. 

“Great,” you sighed in relief. “I thought I was going to have to request assistance form the Agara kingdom and you know how difficult King Junsu can be.”

“Happily, speaking to him won’t be necessary,” Sunyoung grinned. “A group of farmers also sent a basket for your table, in thanks to you for your continued support of them. I instructed the helpers to place it in the kitchen.”

“Thank you, Councilwoman Park,” you said as she took her seat. 

“Now that all of the updates are out of the way and you’ve mentioned another kingdom, your Highness,” Yoongi spoke up a he leaned forward and set his folded arms on the table. “We actually do have something that we’d like to discuss with you.”

“I knew it,” you chuckled. “What is it?”

“There has been some concern about the royal bloodline,” he began slowly. 

“And what concerns are those?”

“Well, you’ve been Queen for the last 5 years and you haven’t found a suitable spouse yet,” Yoongi replied. 

“I am well aware of that and as I’ve stated previously, I don’t feel as though I need a spouse in order to properly rule Zamia,” you reiterated. 

“Oh, we absolutely agree, your Highness!” Yuri interjected. 

“We don’t ever want you to think that we doubt your ability to rule,” Sunyoung added. 

“As members of the Solar Council though, we do have to advise you that finding a suitable spouse isn’t just about having a second person to rule the kingdom alongside you,” Taeyeon pointed out. “You know as well as anyone that the entire kingdom’s magic will be strengthened if there were two people on the throne instead of just one. Also, it’s about preserving the amazing magical legacy that has been established by your family. It won’t be possible to do that if you do not marry and produce issue.”

“Produce issue?” You repeated with a scoff. “What am I, a farmer? Or a production machine?”

“That’s not what Councilwoman Kim meant,” Yoongi sighed. “We just want to ensure the future of the kingdom.”

“Listen, I respect all of you as Councilmembers, as well as my friends,” you started. “But I am not, at present or in the near future, looking for a spouse.”

“Well, that’s why I took the liberty of inviting one of the Princes from the neighboring Pica kingdom to Zamia for a friendly visit,” Yoongi announced with a bright smile and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You what?”

“Prince Jungkook will be here in two days’ time,” he finished. Looking around the table, you saw the faces of the other Councilmembers and realized that they were not at all surprised by the news of this visit. Why? If you had to guess, it’s because they all fucking knew. 

Everyone knew, but you.

Feeling your temper steadily rise, you abruptly stood up from your throne, causing everyone else to stand up as well and you stepped from around the table before storming out of the room and into the hallway. You couldn’t believe that they’d had the audacity to invite a foreigner to your kingdom without discussing with you beforehand, and it didn’t help matters that the foreigner was in fact another royal that you had never met before. 

You had managed to work yourself up so much that you didn’t see anyone else walking down the hallway before you bumped into them. 

“Hey, where are you off to, little one?” The voice said and when you looked up, you saw your father, Edric. 

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you apologized instantly but Edric shook his head, immediately noticing how upset you were. 

“Come with me to my study and you can tell me all about it,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you down the hallway in the opposite direction that you came in. Once the two of you were in his study, he led you over to the large bay window that was on one wall, helping you have a seat before sitting down himself. 

“Now, tell me what has you all worked up,” he encouraged you. 

“I had a meeting with the Solar Council and Yoongi informed me that they’ve invited one of the Princes from the Pica kingdom to Zamia,” you revealed. “With hopes that I’ll take a liking to him and want to marry him.”

“Did they?”

“Yes,” you nodded your head. “I’m so upset because they blatantly went against my wishes all because they want me to pop out babies and keep the royal bloodline going. I mean, aren’t I doing a good job as Queen? I know I’m not Mommy but-”

“Hey, you are an amazing Queen,” Edric reassured you. “And who cares if you’re not your mother? You are fantastic in your own right and I never want you to forget that, ok?”

“Ok.”

“And as for the whole visit business, I knew about it because the Council asked for my permission to invite him here,” he admitted. 

“Daddy, why did you do that?”

“I just want to see you happy, like your mother and I were,” he explained. “I know that you’ve thrown yourself into giving this kingdom all that you have but you deserve your own happiness. Ruling gets lonely baby, and you need someone by your side to not only love you but to support you when times get hard.”

“I know that Daddy, I do,” you replied with a small smile. “But you and Mommy’s marriage was a special case and a large amount of arranged marriages don’t turn out the way that yours did. I doubt mines would.”

“But you won’t even have the opportunity to find out if you don’t try,” Edric reminded you. “Running a kingdom on your own for five years is nothing to balk at. It’s a burden but not one that you should be shouldering alone. Please, at least give this all a chance. Worst case scenario, you don’t like him and we can all continue on as we have been.”

“Alright Daddy, alright,” you relented. “You’re right. What’s the worst that could happen?”

.............................................................

In the neighboring Pica kingdom, Prince Jeon Jungkook was walking into his family’s castle after having gone for a run when he saw one of his older brothers, Taehyung, running up to him. 

“There you are!” Taehyung exclaimed as he stopped in front of him. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Where were you?”

“Went for a run, like I do every morning,” Jungkook chuckled. “What’s up?”

“Appa wants to see you in his study,” Taehyung told him. “Said that it was important so you should go now.”

“Alright, thanks,” Jungkook nodded before turning and walking off down the hallway. Once he made it to his father’s study, he knocked on the door and waited until he heard a deep voice say “come in” before he twisted the knob and pushed open the door. 

“You wanted to see me?” Jungkook asked and his father, Kiwoo, waved him inside. 

“Come in, come in,” he said and Jungkook walked in, shut the door behind him, and walked over to sit in one of the chairs that was placed in front of his desk. “How are you, my son?”

“Good, just got back from a run,” Jungkook replied. 

“Ever my energizer bunny, huh?” Kiwoo joked and Jungkook rolled his eyes at the childhood nickname that his father gave him. 

“Did you have something that you wanted to discuss with me?” 

“Ah, yes. With Namjoon set to become King once I have moved on and Taehyung set to act as his second in command, I’ve been thinking about your future lately,” Kiwoo said. 

“My future?” Jungkook echoed. “I’m in Pica’s royal Navy and thought that’s what I would do.”

“And I’m still in total support of that, don’t misunderstand me,” Kiwoo assured him. “But I received a letter of invitation from the kingdom of Zamia for you to be a special guest of the Queen.”

“Really?” Jungkook wondered with a raised brow. “That’s kind of odd when I’ve never been to Zamia before.”

“Well, word has it throughout the kingdoms that Queen Y/N is now looking for a spouse so I suspect that’s the reason why you received the invitation,” Kiwoo surmised. 

“Did she?” Jungkook hummed. “I remember when she issued that proclamation like three years ago that she wasn’t searching for a spouse.”

“Well, things have obviously changed,” Kiwoo shrugged. “The visit will be three weeks long and if no sparks fly, then no harm, no foul.”

“Do you have a photo or something of her?” Jungkook asked and his father nodded, reaching into an envelope that he had sitting on the desk in front of him, reaching inside and pulling out a small photo before handing it off to his son. Jungkook literally felt his breath being taken away, his eyes widening when he saw how gorgeous you were. 

“She’s a looker, right?” Kiwoo smirked and Jungkook nodded his head in agreement. “She looks exactly like her mother, that one. If her personality is anything like her mother’s was, then she should be an amazing person too.”

“Ok, I’ll go,” Jungkook agreed easily. 

“Great! I’ll set everything up and you’ll leave in two days!” Kiwoo said but Jungkook didn’t pay attention to what he was saying, too busy staring at the photo of you in his hand.

.............................................................

Two days later, you were standing in front of the castle, along with the Solar Council, your father, and a few of the helpers that you employed, waiting for Prince Jungkook’s arrival. 

“You ok, Y/N-ah?” Jimin whispered from his place next to you. 

“I still don’t like this,” you muttered. “I’ve never even met this man and yet you, along with the rest of the Council, decided to invite him here in hopes of sparks flying.”

“Ok, ok, don’t work yourself up all over again,” Jimin sighed. “We said that we’re sorry for not getting your approval but we truly did have good intentions.”

“Whatever.”

“If it helps any, you look amazing,” Jimin smiled as he looked over your body that was draped in a loose gown that was blue and yellow. 

“If I don’t feel great, that doesn’t mean that I can’t look great,” you joked, making Jimin laugh. Just then, the gates to the castle suddenly opened and a long black limousine pulled through them, slowly creeping forward before stopping in front of where you were standing. 

“Remember everyone, these are visitors from another kingdom so best foot forward,” you said loudly, getting murmurs of agreements and “yes, your Highness” in return. The driver of the limo had gotten out of the car in the meantime, walking around the backseat and opening the door. You watched with bated breath as a man got out, and you gasped lightly when you saw Jeon Jungkook for the first time. 

He was dressed in what you knew to be some type of military uniform, which was a deep forest green color. His black hair was slicked back, with a single strand flopping over onto his forehead, and his chiseled facial features were on full display. His gaze and jaw were strong, contrasting with his nose, eyes, and mouth that looked so gentle and kind. The man was fucking hot and even you could admit that. 

After he got out of the limo, he was followed by another man who was equally as gorgeous and a few helpers from their own kingdom as well. 

“Your Highness,” Jungkook said as he walked over to stand in front of you. Having done this literally thousands of times before, you extended your hand and Jungkook took ahold of it, his grip on you firm as he bowed down in front of you while you did the same. “It is my honor to meet you.”

“And I you, Prince Jungkook,” you replied with a tight smile, watching as Jungkook stood up straight again. 

“This is my brother, Prince Taehyung,” Jungkook introduced the two of you and Taehyung stepped forward, doing the same thing as Jungkook and grabbing your hand as he bowed to you. 

“An absolute pleasure to meet you, your Highness,” Taehyung smiled. 

“You as well, Prince Taehyung,” you responded. “May I introduce my father, Dowager King Edric?”

“An honor,” Edric smiled, taking the time to shake both Jungkook and Taehyung’s hands. 

“And my council of advisors, the Solar Council,” you gestured towards the six people standing behind you. “They are the ones that extended the invitation.”

“Easy, little one,” Edric murmured in warning and you lightly rolled your eyes. “I know you both must’ve had a long journey here. Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” Jungkook nodded. 

“Well, we’ll get your things inside and you both can freshen up before we meet in the formal dining room,” you said before turning and gesturing towards your helpers and they walked over to the limousine to help with the luggage. 

An hour later, you were sat at the head of the table with Jungkook at your side as you all convened for dinner together. 

“So Jungkook, you’re the third-born son right?” Edric asked.

“Yes Sir,” Jungkook nodded. “I’m the youngest, Taehyung hyung here is the middle child, and my brother Namjoon is the oldest.”

“Ah, I was the fourth born son myself, and the youngest,” Edric chuckled. “Definitely a hard road.”

“Sometimes but my hyungs are great,” Jungkook smiled as he nudged Taehyung with his elbow. 

“I hear Jungkook’s a valued member of Pica’s Royal Navy,” Hobi brought up. “How long have you been doing that?”

“Uh, since I was about 20,” Jungkook replied. “I don’t know, it just always interested me. Why? I don’t know.”

“It’s honest work,” Yoongi smiled. “Your Highness, don’t you like the ocean?”

“Of course I do, Zamia’s surrounded by it,” you responded with a sarcastic smile. 

“Jungkookie here is an amazing swimmer, although he’s great at anything physical really,” Taehyung bragged on his younger brother. “Swimming, running, biking, even horseback riding.”

“Horseback riding?” You repeated with intertest, since you loved horses. 

“Yeah, we’ve all been riding since we were kids and our mother taught us but Jungkookie’s the only one of us with an actual interest in it,” Taehyung told you. “You should see his horses back in Pica. They’re gorgeous.”

“Y/N-ah has quiet the stable herself,” Edric smiled. 

“Who taught you to ride, your highness?” Jungkook asked you. 

“My mother did, actually,” you said. 

“Maybe the two of you could go on a horse ride together while you’re here then, Prince Jungkook?” Jimin suggested. 

“I’d love to, if you would, your Highness,” Jungkook said and you just shrugged your shoulders noncommittally. 

“Maybe. I have to ask though, why would a man with the power of speed bother with riding a horse?” You questioned. 

“You know about my super speed?” Jungkook wondered in slight surprise. 

“One of the Queen’s many powers is magic detection,” Yuri explained. “She can sense when any power is being used near her and what power it is.”

“But I’m not using my super speed,” Jungkook chuckled. 

“So you think,” you interjected, making him look over at you. “But I can sense how restless you are from the long travel and that amount of energy isn’t associated with any other power but super speed.”

“Plus, she has a cousin who has super speed so she’s felt it before,” Edric added, making you smile and nod.

“That too.”

“Wow,” Jungkook gasped in awe. “That’s amazing. To answer your question though, I do enjoy slowing down when the moment calls for it and or even when the right person calls for it.”

“Is that right?” You murmured, purposefully ignoring his attempt to flirt with you as you busied yourself with digging into your meal. The rest of dinner went the same way, everyone trying to stimulate conversation between you and Jungkook while you resisted every try with the same stale attitude. Jungkook seemed to take it all in stride though, not seeming at all affected by your dry answers or disinterest for him and anything that he had to say.

Behind closed doors though, Jungkook felt entirely differently than he had let on. 

“How could Appa even expect any of this to work?” Jungkook groaned as he paced back and forth in the guest room that he and Taehyung were sharing. “She barely even looks at me!”

“Cut her some slack Kook, she’s probably struggling to come to grips with all of this,” Taehyung said from his place on his own large bed. “I mean, imagine if you were King and your council went behind your back to invite some woman that you had never met before into your castle.”

“You think they went behind her back?” Jungkook wondered.

“I know it, because I read Jimin-ssi’s mind at dinner and he was thinking ‘shit, this is not going the way the councilmembers and I envisioned,” Taehyung reported, using his gift of telepathy to have read Jimin’s thoughts. “So just give her some time.”

“Time isn’t exactly a luxury that we have,” Jungkook chuckled as he sat down on his bed and looked at his hyung. “We’re only here for three weeks.”

“I know but don’t give up yet,” Taehyung advised him. “Keep trying. After all, nothing worth having ever comes easily.”

.............................................................

The next morning, you were up at dawn to take a walk along the shore that was right in front of the castle. After the awkward dinner the night before, you slept fitfully because you could never rest when foreigners were in the castle which was the one thing that you didn’t really enjoy about being Queen. 

As you walked, you thought about the day before. Jungkook seemed nice enough and he was certainly handsome, but you weren’t entirely sure of his suitability for you. Sure, he had some of the same interests as you but he was also the third born son who you were almost sure didn’t receive any of the training that children who were expected to become monarchs did. Of course, not having that training didn’t mean that he would be incapable at the job but it damn sure did help. 

You also knew that you were a humungous bitch at dinner and you felt kind of bad about it. Jungkook and everyone else were obviously trying to make the best of the situation but you didn’t make it any easier. You figured that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you actually did try to get to know him, so at least that way, you’d be able to truthfully say that he wasn’t a fit for you. 

You were so absorbed in yours thoughts that you didn’t realize someone breezing past you until they had almost bumped into you. 

“Hey!” You shouted and the figure turned around, and you realized that it was Jungkook. “You almost knocked me down, you know?”

“Sorry, your Highness,” Jungkook apologized while bowing lightly towards you. “When I’m running, I get kind of a blur around me which makes it hard to see anything that’s not right in front of me.”

“Ah, the faults of our powers,” you joked, making Jungkook laugh. “What are you doing out here so early?”

“Well, I was feeling really pent up since I hadn’t been able to run and I couldn’t sleep because of it so I just decided to come out here,” he explained. “I have to say too, Zamia is beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such clear water.”

“Yeah, it’s home,” you smiled as you looked out onto the water. “And it must be hard to have all that energy.”

“It can be sort of inconvenient at times, like when I have royal duties but it comes in handy other times, like when I’m working with the Navy,” he replied. 

“The Navy’s an unusual choice for a royal,” you noted as the two of you began to walk down the beach together, side by side. 

“Well, since I’m not in immediate line for the throne anymore, with Namjoon hyung and his wife Youngja having just had their first child, I’m more free to do what I want,” Jungkook said. “Since I have the powers of super speed, weather control and conjuration, being in the military just made sense.”

“Conjuration?” You questioned. “What’s that?”

“Basically, it means that I can bring forth any form of creatures, items, spirits, demons, deities and elements by either summoning, creating, or manifesting them,” he told you. “So things like images of them, their voice, or even holograms of them.”

“Wow, that’s unique.”

“Got it from being the child of a monarch,” he said and you nodded your head.

“I know that one,” you chuckled. 

“What about you? What are your powers?”

“Ah well, you know about the magic detection but in addition to that, I have telekinesis, telepathy, and enchantment,” you answered. 

“Telepathy?” Jungkook whistled. “That must be tough. Taehyung has that power, too.”

“It only works for me if I’m touching the person whose thoughts I want to read,” you explained. “Which I actually like because the thought of being able to hear an unwilling person’s thoughts makes me cringe a little bit.”

“Yeah, that could be awkward,” Jungkook laughed. 

“My telekinesis is pretty straight forward. I can move objects at will without touching them.”

“And the enchantment?”

“I got that when I became Queen,” you smiled lightly. “It’s a power that’s only in my family line and each monarch gets it when the previous monarch passes away so when my mom died, I inherited it.”

“Wow. You know, my parents used to speak highly of your mother,” he told you. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s ok,” you shrugged. “All a part of life, right?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it any easier,” he murmured. “I lost my mom too, when I was 15.”

“I’m sorry,” you echoed his previous sentiment but he just waved his hand dismissively. 

“Let’s talk about something happier before we get all depressed,” he joked lightly. 

“Well, you said that the water was pretty but what about the rest of the kingdom?” You questioned. “Do you like it?”

“I think it’s beautiful,” he replied. “Much larger than Pica, though.”

“I know, I’ve been to Pica,” you nodded. “Pica has a charm about it though, along with it’s citizens.”

“I hope I’m included in that,” Jungkook attempted to flirt and instead of outright rebuffing him this time, you just smiled without saying anything and Jungkook took that as a win. The two of you continued to make conversation as you both made your way back to the castle, getting to know each other more and more with each step that you etched in the sand. 

“You know, maybe we should go on that horseback ride while you’re here,” you offered and the grin on Jungkook’s face was so wide, you knew his face had to hurt.

“I’d love to,” he agreed without hesitation. “I really would.”

.............................................................

A few days later, your schedule had finally cleared enough for you to be able to go on that horse ride with Jungkook. You met him in the stable in early afternoon, letting him look over the horses while you packed up the lunch that the helpers had prepared in a wicker picnic basket. 

“This one is gorgeous,” Jungkook murmured as he stepped over to one of the larger horses, allowing the animal to sniff his hand before he began to gently pet her. “What’s their name?”

“This is Lady and she’s a Friesian horse,” you smiled. “She’s my baby.”

“I see why,” Jungkook replied. “She’s magnificent.”

“She was born on the anniversary of my mother’s ascension to the throne, so that’s why she named her Lady,” you explained. “My mother gave her to me when I turned 18 and we’ve been close ever since.”

“Whoa!” Jungkook exclaimed and when you looked over, you saw Lady shaking her mane towards Jungkook purposefully. 

“Oh yeah, she’s a little sassy thing too,” you giggled, watching as Jungkook tried to get the horse hair out of his face. “Here, why don’t you ride her brother, Lord?”

“Twins?” Jungkook guessed.

“Twins,” you confirmed with a nod. Two of the helpers that were working in the stables saddled up both horses for you and once the two of you were settled on top of the large animals, you whistled over at Jungkook. 

“I have a place in mind where we can go, follow me,” You said before clicking your tongue, which urged Lady into a light jog out of the stable. Jungkook and Lord followed behind you and once you were sure he was following you, a smirk spread onto your face as you clicked your heels against Lady’s side, which made her break out into a full blown run. 

“Hey!” Jungkook huffed, a smirk of his own appearing on his face as he took your challenge, bumping his heels against Lord’s side and continuing to do so until he had almost caught up to you. 

That’s how the two of you rode for the next 15 minutes, going up into some of the hills that were behind the castle. The silence was sporadically interrupted by giggle coming from you or laughs coming from Jungkook, usually when one of you managed to overtake the other in terms of speed. By the time the two of you made it to the small meadow that you had led him to, you both looked a little windblown. 

“This is so pretty,” Jungkook murmured in awe as he got down off of his horse. Without asking you, he walked over to you and helped you down from your horse as well and you smiled up at him in thanks. 

“No one knows about this spot except for family so we don’t have to worry about someone finding me for something or another,” you told him. Jungkook untied the picnic basket from Lady’s back and the two of you found a good spot right near the bank of the stream that was also in the meadow.

“Do you ever get tired of being Queen?” Jungkook wondered as the two of you sat down together, and you shrugged while you opened the picnic basket and began setting the lunch out on the blanket that you two were sitting on. 

“It can be...draining sometimes, knowing that so many people depend on me and look to me for guidance and reassurance,” you confessed. “My mom and dad used to make it look so effortless and it wasn’t like that for me, at first.”

“My oldest hyung Namjoon says the same thing,” he nodded in understanding. 

“But on the opposite side, I actually like being needed like that,” you continued. “It’s also nice knowing that so many people revere me, even though I truly doubt I deserve it.”

“Well, from what I’ve gathered from you this first week, I think it is deserved,” he said gently. “Even though you iced me out that first day.”

“I hope you’re not holding that against me,” you grimaced. “I was more so still upset at the Solar Council, because they extended that invitation for you to come visit without my permission.”

“They can do that?”

“No, but they found a loophole and asked my father,” you huffed. “Since he’s also a royal and the former King, he has the right to extend invitations like that.”

“I did think it was odd when my father told me about it, especially given that proclamation you issued a few years back,” Jungkook said. 

“The Solar Council has made it a habit of trying to convince me to get married and pop out babies but I just want to focus on being the best Queen that I can be for my people, you know?” You told him. “If I’m somewhere in the castle, barefoot and pregnant, who will everyone look to?”

“Something that my dad has always said is that he can’t give the best of himself to the people if he’s not taking care of himself,” Jungkook said. “It must be insane to have so many people set their hopes and dreams on you, and I’m not pretending to know what that’s like, but I think you should make time for yourself too. Also, if you don’t mind my saying despite the real reason why I was invited here, having someone by your side means that the kingdom wouldn’t be vulnerable while you’re gone or busy.”

“But no one loves Zamia as much as I do,” you chuckled. “How will I find someone who respects it and it’s people as much as I do?”

“If you find the right person, they’ll love Zamia because you love it,” Jungkook explained. 

“And do you?”

“Do I, what?”

“Love Zamia?” You questioned. Jungkook paused for a few moments, pondering your question and you held your breath, trying to gauge if you had been a little too forward with him. 

“I think that as I learn more about it, it’ll be impossible for me not to,” he finally replied and you smiled, knowing exactly what he meant by the phrasing. 

“Nice to know,” you whispered. 

“Oh! Before I forget, I have something for you,” Jungkook said and you watched as he held his hands together, slowing pulling them apart and revealing a hologram of a bouquet of calla lily flowers. 

“They’re so pretty,” you cooed and Jungkook extended his hands towards you.

“Take them.”

“It’s a hologram, I can’t,” you laughed in disbelief. 

“It’s only a hologram for as long as I want it to be,” he revealed. “Go ahead, take them.” You tentatively reached your hands out, grabbing onto the bunch of stems and gasping when you could feel them on your skin. 

“Eternal flowers,” you muttered, leaning forward and smiling when you realized that the hologram even smelled like real life calla lilies. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled as the two of you went back to enjoying lunch together. 

.............................................................

Everything between you and Jungkook changed after your date in the meadow. For the following week, the two of you were together anytime that you had some moments to spare. Though that meant that your quality time wasn’t so plentiful, Jungkook never complained about it and was always able to make the most of the time that you did have to spend together. 

Jungkook was funny, more than you expected him to be, he was kind, and he was so clearly loving. The relationship that he had with Taehyung was enviable and he had even begun to get closer to Jimin, Yoongi, Hobi, and even your father. Seeing Jungkook and Edric together made you happy, and you began to seriously look at Jungkook as someone that you could be with. 

With that thought in mind, it’s what spurred you to invite Jungkook to the dedication ceremony for the newest school that had been built in honor of your mother. You wanted to see how Jungkook would act with you in public, as well as how he’d interact with your citizens. 

“We’re almost ready for you, your Highness,” Jimin told you and you nodded your head, biting lightly on your lip as you stood off to the right of stage that was in front of the large crowd that had gathered for the ceremony. You were dressed in a fitted pants suit in Zamia’s official colors, blue and yellow, as well as a sash and your gold crown. 

“You ok?” Jungkook asked as he looked over at you, dressed in the same Naval uniform that he had arrived to Zamia in. “You look nervous.”

“I’m not the biggest fan of public speaking,” you confessed. “And this is for my mom so I really want it to be good.”

“And it will be,” he promised, reaching down and grabbing your free hand that wasn’t holding your speech in his hand. “Just take some deep breaths and speak from your heart.” Having him hold your hand allowed you to read his thoughts, and you could literally feel how sincere he was in what he said to you. 

“Ok, thanks,” you said, a soft smile coming onto your face when he lifted your hand and kissed the back of it gently. 

“Your Highness, it’s time,” Jimin said and you nodded your head, giving Jungkook’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go of it and climbing the steps to the stage. The crowd cheered at the sight of you and you took a few moments to wave at them all before stepping behind the podium. 

“Good morning,” you smiled. “Thank you all so much for attending this dedication ceremony for our newest magic school. The formation of this school is special for two reasons. The first being that this school is a solid, visible example of how much our kingdom is flourishing. Needing more space means that our population has risen and to do that, one needs faith in the people that serve them that their needs will be met. It means the world to me that you all feel like you have a happy enough way of life here in order to start and grow families of your own, so thank you for that.” The crowd cheered loudly for a few seconds before calming down and allowing you to continue.

“The second, and arguably the most important to me personally, is that it gives us the chance to dedicate something to our late Queen, my mother, Queen Thalia,” you continued. “Queen Thalia was an innovator. She established the first official school in the kingdom, made sure that every citizen regardless of age was able to read and write and knew how to control their powers to the best of their ability. She was determined for the citizens of Zamia to have the best lives possible and that effort is seen even now, 30 years from her coronation. With my pleasure and the blessing of the Solar Council, I hereby dedicate this building as the Queen Thalia Magic Education Center!”

The crowd went wild at the announcement, cheering loudly and chanting a mix of your mother’s name as well as yours. Your father walked up onto the stage then with a pair of scissors in his hands and together, the two of you cut the ribbon that was right in front of the door to the school. 

“Amazing job, little one,” Edric whispered to you and you smiled, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. After posing for a few photos with your father, the Solar Council, and the administration staff of the school, you made yourself busy with speaking to the citizens of Zamia, something that you prided yourself on taking the time to do. 

“It’s about time that we finally had a building dedicated to your mother, ancestors rest her soul,” an elderly man named Minho told you. 

“I know but the Solar Council, as well as my father and I, wanted to make sure that the dedication made sense and with this being a school, we saw no better time than now,” you explained. 

“And how are you yourself, dear?” Minho’ wife, Helena, asked you. “I know it’s been five years since she passed on but it can’t be any easier for you.”

“It isn’t but I’m doing well, thank you for asking,” you replied. 

“Of course she’s doing well, with one of the Princes of Pica visiting her,” a woman named Sooyoung laughed. “Are we going to be having a royal wedding and a coronation ceremony?”

“Not anytime soon,” you giggled. “Prince Jungkook as well as his brother Prince Taehyung are just here to visit.”

“Your mother said something similar when your father came to visit from his home kingdom,” Helena pointed out. 

“Have a good time, you guys,” you bid your goodbyes to them to cut the conversation short, laughing to yourself when you heard them groan and complain behind you. You walked over to Jungkook, who was speaking animatedly with some children. 

“Queen Y/N, Queen Y/N!” One of the little girls, who you knew as Boram, called out to you.

“Hi Boram,” you smiled, watching fondly as she did her best to do a bow to you before you greeted the other children as well. “Hi Yihwa, hi Sangjun.”

“Your Highness,” Yihwa and Sangjun both replied, the two of them able to greet you a little more properly since they were seven and nine years old versus Boram’s tender five.

“Queen Y/N, are you gonna marry Jungkookie Oppa?” Boram wondered and you couldn’t help but to laugh as you bent down so that you were level with her. 

“You’re calling him Oppa already?” You wondered. “Do you like him that much?”

“He’s nice,” Boram nodded. 

“She’s just saying that because he let her zap him with her electricity,” Yihwa reported. 

“Ah, your powers came all the way in,” you deduced and Boram nodded excitedly. 

“My ceremony is next week!” Boram announced happily. “Will you come?”

“You can’t ask her that, Boram,” Sangjun said. “She’s Queen and has other stuff to do.”

“I’ll have Jiminie check my schedule and we’ll see but no promises, ok?” You told Boram, making her nod reluctantly. 

“Jungkookie Oppa, can I use your hand to show Queen Y/N what I can do now?” Boram asked him hopefully and unable to deny her pouty lips, Jungkook nodded his head. 

“Sure, come on,” he gestured towards himself and Boram squealed excitedly, bounding over to stand in front of him. After you stood up straight again, you watched as Boram took a deep breath before making a spark of electricity with her finger, then using it to zap Jungkook’s palm. 

“Wow, amazing Boram!” You cheered, clapping your hands and making a big show of it. It was always a monumental moment when a person’s powers fully came in, and you wanted to encourage Boram as much as possible. 

Watching the exchange also made your respect for Jungkook grow exponentially. Getting a zap of electricity to your bare palm was no picnic and yet, Jungkook took it with a smile because of how happy it obviously made Boram. After that and seeing how he talked about magic books with Yihwa and what it was like being in the Navy with Sangjun, as well as talking to a bunch of other children and adults, it just confirmed what you had begun to suspect about Jungkook ever since your date in the meadow. 

Jungkook would make an amazing spouse and an amazing King, and now it was your move. 

.............................................................

You paced back and forth on the balcony to the Throne Room, your blue dress breezing behind you and your gaze focused on the waves that were crashing against the shore. You had told Jimin to have Jungkook meet you here so that the two of you could talk, and your nerves were kind of starting to get the best of you as more time passed by. 

“Your Highness,” Jungkook called out and you turned around, watching as he strolled over to you. “You wanted to see me?” He was dressed in a tan shirt, tan slacks with suspenders holding them up, black shoes, and his hair pushed back from his face.

“Yes, hi,” you exhaled harshly as you stopped pacing and looked at him. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

���Well, I figured it must be important if you requested my presence,” he said. You took a quick deep breath in before releasing it, as a last ditch effort to calm yourself before you began to speak. 

“So, we both know the real reason why you were invited here?” You began. 

“Yes.”

“And over the last two weeks, we’ve gotten to know each other better than I thought we would,” you mentioned. “As a result, I’ve become interested in you and I hope the feeling is mutual.”

“It is,” Jungkook nodded with a smile. “Very much so.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” you sighed in relief. “But now, I need to know how you feel about Zamia.”

“I told you, I love it,” he replied honestly. “It took my breath away when I first got here and after attending that dedication ceremony with you and getting to speak to the people, I fell in love even more. If needed, I’ll do anything necessary to support Zamia and you as well, if you allow me to.”

“And you’re not just here to take Zamia away from me?” You asked and Jungkook shook his head with a furrowed brow. Although it was much rarer now, it wasn’t unheard of for a woman or a man to marry into a royal family just to stage a coup and snatch the power for themselves. 

“The thought of that never even entered my mind, or my family’s mind,” he assured you. “I’m also a third born son so power hasn’t ever been high on my list of goals in life.”

“But that could be a reason why you came here,” you shot back. 

“See for yourself if you don’t believe me,” he said, extending his hand out to you. You grabbed onto it, intertwining your fingers with his and allowing your eyes to flutter shut as his thoughts and feelings flooded into your mind.

The very first thing you felt was peace, which you always interpreted as meaning someone was being honest or had pure intentions. That peaceful feeling almost became overwhelming and that only confirmed how truthful Jungkook was being. 

The second thing wasn’t a feeling, but a vision. The two of you were walking in the meadow that you had taken him to, hand in hand with two little figures running around in front of you. You could see how bright your smile was as you watched what you assumed would be your children play together and Jungkook eyes were focused on you, smiling at you with a look in his eyes that could only be described as fondness. 

“Oh my gosh,” you gasped as you opened your eyes, seeing that Jungkook was looking right at you with a soft smile. 

“Did you see?” He wondered and you nodded your head slowly. “That’s what I hope for when I think of my future here, with you.” 

“Jungkook,” you whispered as tears welled up in your eyes, the vision of your prospective future making you emotional. Jungkook instantly moved closer to you then, gently cupping your face in his hands and making you look into his eyes. 

“I know you have your reservations and I respect them, but I’m telling you that I want this and I want you, regardless of what that might entail,” he stated firmly. Looking into his brown eyes and not knowing what words might even exist for you to properly communicate how he made you feel, you decided to that the only thing that could tell him was a kiss. So that’s exactly what you did. 

Your lips crashed against his passionately, your hands wrapping around his neck to grip at the hair on the back of his head. Jungkook returned your eagerness as his hands slipped away from your face and down to your waist, gripping you tightly and pulling you closer to him. He walked the both of you backwards until you were pressed up against the ledge of the balcony, your back arching as his lips trailed away from yours and began to press open mouthed kisses to your neck. 

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“Mm, our Queen has a potty mouth,” Jungkook murmured teasingly, making you laugh out loud. 

“Yeah, kind of.”

“I don’t mind, as long as I’m the one making you curse,” he said deeply and you found yourself nodding your head. He captured your lips with his again, making you moan again as the two of you made out. You weren’t sure how much time had passed as you lost yourself in the feeling of his lips but suddenly, you realized where you were and what you two were doing and how it would look if anyone were to walk out onto the balcony. 

“Wait, wait, wait, we can’t,” you gasped, placing your hands against his chest and pushing him back slightly. “We can’t go too far, you know?”

“Of course, of course,” Jungkook nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you chuckled. 

“What’s your schedule like for the rest of the day?” He questioned suddenly. 

“I’m free.”

“Great. Wait here for an hour and then meet me in the meadow, ok?” He said and you shrugged your shoulders before nodding. He pressed one last kiss to your lips and before you could ask where he was going or what he had up his sleeve, he raced away from you. 

After an hour of more pacing and not knowing what to do with yourself in order to stay occupied, you rode your horse to the meadow and once you got there, you saw Jungkook already standing near the stream as he waited for you. 

“What is all this about?” You wondered as you stepped over to stand in front of him.

“If we’re going to do this, I wanted to do it the right way,” Jungkook told you, reaching out and grabbing both of your hands in his. “You don’t have to feel obligated to say yes to what I’m about to ask you, ok?”

“Ok,” you nodded. A soft gasp escaped you when you watched him get down on one knee in front of you, letting go of one of your hands to reach into his pocket and pull out a large, round sapphire engagement ring. The band was gold and the sapphire was surrounded by white diamonds on either side. 

“Y/N-ah, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” Jungkook asked and you nodded your head up and down rapidly, squealing lightly when he slid the ring onto the fourth finger of your left hand. 

“It’s beautiful Jungkook,” you murmured as you held your hand up, admiring the ring. 

“My father gave it to my mother the day that I was born,” he explained as he stood up. “The sapphire is my birth stone and before she passed, my mother gave it to me to use as an engagement ring for the right woman.”

“And I’m the right woman?” You wondered as you wrapped your arms around his neck while he set his hands on your hips. 

“Absolutely,” Jungkook stated firmly. At a loss for words, which seemed to be a regular occurrence when you were around Jungkook, you settled for pulling him into a passionate kiss in an effort to communicate exactly how you were feeling at that moment. 

“I’m going to be everything that you need me to be, I promise,” Jungkook whispered against your lips. 

“I know, I know,” you smiled before kissing him again and you did know, deep down inside of you, that he was a person you could trust and depend on. 

.............................................................

A month later, wedding preparation was in full swing and the palace, as well as the entire kingdom of Zamia, was buzzing with excitement. Admittedly, you were as well. Even though you still had your typical duties as Queen to take care of, planning your wedding had proven to be unexpectedly fun and you loved setting up even the smallest of details. 

Jungkook was a big help as well, coming with you to every meeting that had even the smallest thing to do with the wedding and offering you his support on your official duties as well. He had also kept his promise to you as he began to undertake his own royal duties for Zamia, and you found that the load he took off your shoulders was incredibly helpful. 

Despite that, the two of you hadn’t been able to spend much alone time together since you announced your engagement and you were surprised by just how much you missed his presence. You missed his humor, his smile, his laugh, and how he always made you feel at ease. 

“Y/N-ah?” Jimin called out and you turned around from where you had been staring out of the window at the shore in front of the palace. “Jungkook’s back.”

“Great,” you smiled, gathering up the hem of your blue dress in your hands and rushing down the hallway and down the grand staircase. Once you made it to the side door which was already open due to the helpers who were bringing Jungkook’s bags into the palace, you ran outside to see Jungkook standing next to the limousine.

“Jungkook!” You cheered and he turned around, his grin wide as he opened his arms and you didn’t hesitate to run into them, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him passionately as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up off the ground. The kiss grew heated pretty quickly, your tongue slipping into Jungkook’s mouth as you felt his hands roam over your waist through the material of your dress. 

“Oh, I missed you baby,” Jungkook murmured against your lips and you smiled, pressing one last kiss to his lips before pulling back to look at him. 

“I missed you more,” you cooed, running your hands through the hair at the back of his head. “How was Pica? And your family?”

“They’re all good, excited to come here at the end of the week for the wedding,” he told you as he set you back down on the ground. You wrapped your arm around his and intertwined your fingers together as you both walked back into the palace. “And I got the rest of my things.”

“You’re officially moved in then,” you noted. 

“Yep and you’re stuck with me,” he teased, making you roll your eyes playfully. “What have you been up to while I was gone?”

“Eh, the usual,” you shrugged. “Work and more work, as always.”

“I hope you won’t be too busy for me after the wedding.”

“I won’t be, because I’ll have you by my side,” you smiled up at him and he returned your smile as the two of you climbed the staircase and then strolled down the hallway together. 

“I hope you have your gift picked out for me for the ceremony,” you mentioned. “It’s tomorrow.” The ceremony that you were speaking of was a tradition for royal engaged couples, where they would present each other with a gift in front of their families and the Solar Council as a way of affirming their promises to each other and as a way of blessing their coming union. Typically, the gift was an extension of one’s magical powers but it was always interesting to see what each couple came up with.

“I already have my gift for you and you’re going to love it, I know it,” he said cockily. 

“You sure about that? It’s gonna be hard to outdo the present that my dad gave my mom.”

“He gave her a fucking island!” Jungkook exclaimed, making you giggle at his facial expression. 

“You better had come up with something that good then,” you joked. Smirking, Jungkook leaned against the wall and pulled you with him, forcing your body flush up against his as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“You’re a menace, you know?” He said. 

“I’ve been told,” you smiled. “At least you know you’ll never be bored.”

“That I do,” he chuckled before cupping your face in his hands and kissing you firmly. Per usual, you lost yourself in the kiss, your body melting into Jungkook’s as your lips slotted together. You had no idea how long the two of you ended up staying there, pressed up against that wall, until someone cleared their throat and caused the two of you to break apart. 

“So sorry to interrupt the two of you,” Yoongi huffed. “But you’re late for your next meeting, your Highness.”

“And you have a lesson on Zamia’s history to attend, Prince Jungkook,” Jimin giggled. “Which I remind you, you have to finish before the wedding on Saturday.”

“Of course,” Jungkook sighed with a smile. 

“Give us a second, we’ll be right there,” you told them, and Yoongi and Jimin nodded before walking away. 

“No privacy,” you scoffed. 

“Well, we are in the hallway,” Jungkook pointed out. “Good thing that we were because if we were anywhere else more private, you wouldn’t be going to that meeting.”

“Oh yeah?” You purred. “And why is that?”

“Because you wouldn’t be able to walk,” he whispered and you felt a tingle in your lower half. The sexual tension had been a constant any time the two of you were together since you had gotten engaged, and there had been several times over the last month that you had to stop yourself from falling into that temptation. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t have been able to, especially since you had before in your life, but as Queen, you wanted to do things in a more “traditional” way and save that for you and Jungkook until your wedding night. 

“We’ll have two weeks off after the wedding and my dad will take over for us so I hope you’ll keep that promise,” you murmured. 

“Let’s go!” Yoongi shouted from the end of the hall and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. 

“You better go before Yoongi hyung blows a gasket,” Jungkook laughed. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner?”

“Of course,” you nodded. “Have a good day.”

“You too, baby,” he smiled, leaning down and giving you one last kiss before pulling away from you and allowing you both to go your separate ways. 

.............................................................

The next night, you were stood outside of the Throne Room, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. The time for the Gift Ceremony had come and Jungkook’s family, as well as your father and the Solar Council were inside of the Throne Room to watch. 

“Y/N-ah?” Jimin said and you raised your head to look at him. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you nodded with a smile. “Do I look ok?”

“Gorgeous,” Jimin chuckled, reaching out and fixing the golden crown that sat on top of your head. You were dressed in a golden gown that had a blue overlay and swept the floor when you walked. 

“Let’s go then,” you squared your shoulders, watching as Jimin cued to the helpers and they opened the double doors. You began to walk inside, a wide smile falling onto your lips when you saw Jungkook, dressed in his naval uniform as usual, standing next to Yoongi as he waited for you. 

Once you made it to your throne, Yoongi motioned for everyone to take a seat and when they did, he turned to look at you and Jungkook. 

“This is the Gift Ceremony, where the two of you will present each other with a gift to mark your commitment to both each other and your upcoming marriage,” Yoongi recited. “Please kneel.” You and Jungkook did so, and Yoongi reached down to grab ahold of one of your hands and one of Jungkook’s before placing them together. 

“As the Leader of the Solar Council, I hereby bless this upcoming union with the approval of my fellow Councilmembers,” Yoongi said. “Are the both of you entering into this union of your own choice, in sound mind and body?”

“I am,” you and Jungkook responded together. 

“Please stand,” Yoongi instructed and you both stood up straight again, still holding onto each other’s hand. “Your Highness, Queen Y/N, will present her gift first. Your Highness.”

“Jungkook,” you began as you turned to look at each other. “I cannot express how happy I am to be joining you in marriage and to have you as a part of my family. I love how caring and loving you are, and how thoughtful you are of other people. Because of that, I have chosen to give you the gift of voice echo.”

“Really?” Jungkook gasped and you nodded with a smile. 

“With this gift, you’ll be able to project your voices to places that you’re not present in,” you explained. “Meaning that even your family will be able to hear you from here to Pica.”

“Jungkook, do you accept this gift?” Yoongi asked.

“Yes,” Jungkook confirmed and Yoongi motioned for him to kneel again, which he did. You took a deep breath then, raising your hands up and waiting until a fine, yellow haze began to generate between your palms. Once you were satisfied by how much there was, you began to slowly wave your hands over Jungkook’s head, causing the yellow haze to flow downwards over his hair. 

“As Monarch of Zamia, I grant you this power,” you crooned. The haze dissipated and Jungkook stood up, and you motioned for him to try it. “Go ahead.” 

“Taehyungie hyung?” Jungkook whispered, so soft that you barely heard him and he was standing right next to you.

“I hear you, Jungkookie,” Taehyung revealed with a smile and the grin on Jungkook’s face was so wide, you knew his cheeks had to hurt. 

“Now, Prince Jungkook, your gift,” Yoongi moved them along. 

“Well, I went back and forth on what to get you,” he began. “My powers together are a weird combination so it was a challenge at first but I think you’ll love what I came up with.” He stepped down off of the small platform where your throne was and moved a few steps backwards, making you arch an eyebrow since you didn’t know what he was doing.

Holding his hands out over the floor, Jungkook’s stare was intense as a gust of wind began to create a vortex at his feet. You watched as the vortex became bigger, so much so that it was almost as tall as Jungkook was. 

“Jungkook?” You called out, slightly worried that the vortex was going to hurt him. 

“It’s ok,” he promised as he glanced at you over his shoulder. “She’s coming.”

“She?” You echoed and when you looked back at the vortex, you realized that it was looking less like a vortex and was taking the shape of an actual person. Once some of the dust fell away, the image that was left behind had your jaw dropping and a loud gasp coming from everyone that was present. 

“Is that?” You croaked, seeing what was unmistakably your mother Thalia smiling down at you. 

“It’s your mother,” Jungkook smiled as he turned around and extended his hand to you. “Come here, it’s ok.” You stepped down off of the platform as well, pacing over to stand next to your fiancée as you looked up at the image in disbelief. 

“Can she hear me?” You asked as you grabbed onto his hand.

“What do you think?” Thalia wondered, and tears began to stream down your face steadily.

“Mommy,” you cried. 

“Hi my baby,” Thalia smiled softly, her eyes crinkling at the sides the way you remembered they always did. You marveled at how clear the image was, Thalia’s umber colored skin glowing in the light of the haze that she had appeared from.

“I miss you so much,” you gushed.

“And I miss you,” she replied. “I’m so proud of you though. You’ve been doing an amazing job as Queen since I left, not that I ever had any doubts.”

“You really think so?” You questioned, your ability to lead Zamia’s people one of the most pressing questions that you had been wishing you were able to ask your mother. 

“Absolutely, but there’s one thing that you could be working on.”

“What is it?”

“Learning to open up your heart,” Thalia said. “I know you and I know how you get set in your ways, but open your heart and allow Jungkook to love you. You deserve all the happiness in the world, my baby and Jungkook wants to give it to you so let him.”

“Daddy told me the same thing before Jungkook came,” you chuckled through tears. “About being open.”

“Well, your father taught me that same lesson and since you’re just like me, it makes sense that he taught it to you as well,” she giggled. The image of Thalia then turned around to look at your father Edric, who was sitting to the right of where you were standing. “I miss you so much, my love.”

“I miss you more,” Edric smiled sadly, lifting his hand to his mouth and blowing her a kiss. Thalia turned back to look at you then, smiling fondly. 

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Thalia told you before turning her gaze to Jungkook. “Take care of my baby.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jungkook nodded with a smile and suddenly, the image of Thalia disappeared and the wind that had created the vortex wrapped up into itself before flowing out of the window. 

Before Jungkook could ask how you felt about his gift, you threw your arms around him in a tight hug as you sobbed into his neck. 

“I can’t thank you enough,” you whimpered and Jungkook just hugged you tight you him as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. 

.............................................................

Once your tears started, they just wouldn’t stop so Yoongi wrapped up the Gift Ceremony pretty swiftly and everyone dispersed, leaving Jungkook to walk you back to your bedroom as you recovered from the wave of emotions that you had just gone through. 

“If I had known you’d be this upset by my gift, I wouldn’t have done it,” Jungkook murmured and you instantly shook your head as you wiped your face free of tears for what felt like the hundredth time in the past half hour. 

“No! I loved it so much, that’s why I’m like this,” you told him. “When my mom passed, it was very sudden so I never felt like I got to say goodbye. Today, in the Throne Room, it kind of felt like closure, you know?”

“I know,” he nodded in understanding. “You don’t mind that I did it, right? I didn’t overstep?”

“You gave me the greatest gift I’ve gotten in my life,” you replied honestly. “I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“You don’t have to baby,” he said. “I did it because I wanted to, because I care about you.” The two of you made it to your large bedroom doors then and Jungkook let go of your hand that he was holding. “So, I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast?”

“Or we could go to breakfast together in the morning,” you suggested and Jungkook’s eyebrows rose in confusion.

“Huh?”

“Stay with me tonight,” you clarified. 

“You sure?” He checked. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me or anything just because of my gift or-” you cut him off by leaving forward and pressing a slow kiss to his lips. His words faded into nothing, his lips moving with yours as you kissed him sweetly. 

“Stay with me, please,” you repeated after pulling back a little to look at him. “I want you to.”

“Ok baby, ok,” he nodded his agreement which made you smile. After grabbing his hand, you walked over to the door, nodding slightly to the two guards standing outside before opening one of the double doors and walking inside. 

“I didn’t know you had guards at your door,” Jungkook noted as he followed you inside and shut the door behind himself. 

“I wish I didn’t but the Solar Council insisted,” you shrugged. “A monarch thing.”

“Understandable,” he chuckled. You led him over to the bed before turning to face him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “They can’t...uh, hear anything in here, can they?”

“No, it’s soundproof,” you swore. “I had the room designed that way once the Solar Council said they wanted guards.”

“So if I wanted to make you scream my name,” Jungkook trailed off. 

“They wouldn’t hear a thing,” you finished. With that, Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him as he kissed you passionately. He picked you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he bent down and laid you out on the bed before climbing on top of you. 

“I want to take care of you, Y/N-ah,” Jungkook murmured against your skin as his lips trailed downwards to our neck. “Will you let me?”

“Yes Jungkook,” you moaned as he left open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “Whatever you want.”

“Turn over for me so I can get this dress off,” he instructed and you nodded, waiting until he had moved off of you before sitting up and turning over so that your back was facing him. You reached up and took off your crown, holding it in your hands while Jungkook grabbed ahold of the zipper of your dress and pulled it downwards. 

Pulling the dress over your shoulders and exposing your gorgeous melanin infused skin, Jungkook couldn’t help but to lean forward and press soft kisses against your shoulder. 

“Beautiful,” he muttered.

“You’ve barely seen me yet,” you giggled as you reached over and sat your crown on the bedside table.

“I can already tell,” he huffed. You sat up on your knees then, pulling your dress down the rest of the way and then throwing it onto the floor before turning back around to lay flat on your back. He couldn’t help but to gawk at your body, a matching blue bra and panty set hugging your bust and hips. 

“Like what you see?” You purred teasingly. 

“Love it,” he smiled. 

“You get undressed too,” you said and he nodded his head, getting off of the bed and standing up straight as he began to take off his naval uniform. You turned onto your side and propped your head up on your hand, watching with a smile as he first took off his jacket then his pants and the sword that had been hanging at his hip. 

“You know, I can get used to this,” he mentioned.

“What?”

“You, laying in bed, waiting for me like this,” he said and you could feel your cheeks warm up in embarrassment as he climbed back onto the bed. 

“Me too,” you agreed. You quickly sat up and undid your bra, pulling it from your body and throwing it to the side before Jungkook leaned down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. A loud gasp escaped you, your hands instantly threading themselves in his hair as you allowed him to cause your nipples to harden on his tongue.

“I’m gonna make you feel good baby, I promise,” he declared, moving down your body and leaving kisses in his path. You lifted your head slightly, smiling when he grabbed the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs. You wordlessly spread your legs for him, which made him groan in appreciation when he saw your glistening folds. 

“So wet baby,” he whispered, using his fingers to spread your labia apart before diving in, sucking your clit into his mouth. You cried out as your head fell back against the bed, your body writhing on the bed as Jungkook worked his mouth on you. 

Now, you were no stranger to sex at all. Jungkook wasn’t the first man to have ever courted you before but with him, you had to admit that it felt different. It wasn’t only the skill of his tongue that had you seeing stars but you felt such a strong connection to him, it was almost palpable. You guessed that this is what intimacy was and now that you’d felt it, you weren’t sure that you’d ever be able to give it up. 

“Oh God,” you whimpered, biting down harshly on your lip when Jungkook began to draw figure eights on your clit with the tip of his tongue. As he did so, he slipped one finger into you, moaning against you when he felt how easily you had let him in. 

“Shit, just like that,” you blurted out. Jungkook began to leave wide licks from the bottom of your clit up to the top before going back down and repeating the action, and that had your orgasm building up in your gut. 

“Ah, I-I’m gonna, gonna,” you tried to warn him but you cut yourself off with a sudden yell, your back arching up from the bed as you came on his tongue. Jungkook moaned appreciatively, slurping up your cum as you rode your orgasm out. 

“Good?” He asked and you nodded your head, slightly panting as he rose up and looked at you, licking your essence from his lips.

“So good,” you laughed in disbelief. Jungkook reached out then and gathered some of your wetness onto his fingers before using it to lubricate his cock, which was fully hard and bobbing against his lower stomach. 

“You ready for me to fuck you, baby?” He wondered and when you nodded your head rapidly like a child, he laughed fondly as he positioned himself so that he was on his knees in between your legs. 

“You sure you don’t want me to suck you off?” You asked. 

“No, I need to be inside of you now,” Jungkook shook his head. “Plus, we have all the time in the world to get to that later.”

“Mm, that we do,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a searing kiss. As you slid your tongue into his mouth, Jungkook grabbed the base of his cock and pressed the head of it against your slit, slowly pushing himself into you. You both sighed into each other’s mouths at the feeling of his cock stretching you out, and Jungkook clutched onto the sheets next to your head as he worked you open.

“You’re so tight Y/N-ah, fuck,” he groaned harshly and the way that he moaned your name had your walls clenching around him. 

“And you’re fucking huge,” you huffed out with a laugh. “God damn it.”

“But you’re taking it so fucking well,” Jungkook swore as he looked down at you. “Like you were made for me.”

“Cheesy,” you giggled which made him laugh as well. “You can go faster.”

“Yeah?” He hummed and once you nodded, Jungkook made sure that he was steady on his knees before sitting up and fucking into you a little bit faster. He set up a steady rhythm then, making it easy for the two of you to lose yourselves in each other. 

“Just like that, shit,” you burst, your hands sliding from around his neck and trailing down his back. “Yes Jungkook.”

“Am I pleasing my Queen?” He wondered.

“You are but I’m not your Queen here, with just us two,” you told him. “I’m just Y/N with you.”

“My Y/N,” he said and hearing him call you his made you smile widely and what came out of your mouth next totally slipped out on accident. 

“I love you,” you said, your eyes widening slightly when you heard yourself say it. 

“I love you too,” Jungkook replied effortlessly, which left you even more confused. 

“Really?” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” he responded. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you repeated, moaning when he kissed you again. Your movements became a lot more passionate and almost feral then, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him close and one of his hands reaching down to grip your thigh tightly. 

“Fuck yes, right there,” you panted, your entire body moving up and down on the bed with the force of Jungkook’s thrusts. “Please don’t stop, I’m so close.”

“Me too baby, me too,” he grumbled. “Come with me baby.” Jungkook sped up the pace of his thrusts and put more force behind them, causing you to see stars and your orgasm slammed into you suddenly. 

“Fuck me!” You screamed in pleasure. “Jungkook! Jungkook!”

“That’s right, moan my fucking name while I fill your pussy up,” he commanded and all you could do was dig your nails into his skin while he used you to make himself come. Once he did and you felt his warmth flood inside of you, he collasped on top of you and you just laughed as you set your hands in his hair. 

“So much for waiting, huh?” He mumbled groggily.

“Yeah, but it felt right,” you shrugged. “The wedding’s in two days anyways so we were close enough.” A comfortable silence fell over the two of you then, you both basking in the afterglow while coming down from your orgasms together. It had gotten so quiet, you had thought Jungkook had fallen asleep when he suddenly spoke up. 

“You know, we’re gonna have to redecorate this room once we’re married,” he pointed out.

“Why?” You questioned. “It’s in Zamia’s official colors.”

“I know but a change might be nice,” he said. “Plus, it’s our bedroom now.”

“You’re right,” you agreed. “Once we get back from our honeymoon, we can hire an interior designer.”

“Did we just make our first compromise?” Jungkook asked as he sat up to look down at you.

“I think we did,” you chuckled. “The first of many.”

“You got that right,” Jungkook smiled. “I love you Y/N-ah, and I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Me too and I love you too,” you replied, leaning up and kissing him gently. 

.............................................................

“You about ready, baby girl?” Edric asked and you nodded your head, taking your bouquet of flowers from one of the helpers that were standing outside the double doors of the church. The day of the wedding had finally come and it had been declared a major holiday in the kingdom of Zamia. Every citizen, old and young, had come to stand outside of the church and catch a glimpse of you in your wedding dress.

Speaking of the dress, it was the traditional white dress with sleeves that covered your arms and a scooped neckline. The body of the dress was adorned with calla lilies, which were the official flower of Zamia and both your veil and train of your dress were cathedral length, which you figured was appropriate since you were literally getting married in a cathedral. To finish off the look, of course, was your golden crown.

“It’s time, your Highnesses,” a helper named Karina told you. 

“Here goes nothing,” you whispered, hooking your hand onto Edric’s arm and waiting for the double doors to be opened. Once they were, you and your father began the walk down the insanely long aisle, smiling politely at all of the guests who had come from far and wide to attend. They varied from family and friends of yours and Jungkook’s, to Kings and Queens from other kingdoms as well as their dignitaries. 

The only person you seemed to be able to focus on though, was standing at the opposite end of the aisle next to the priest. Jungkook was dressed in a classic black suit, having decided to forgo his naval uniform since he was longer a part of Pica’s navy. His hair was pushed back away from his face, showcasing his strong jawline and his gorgeous eyes. You couldn’t help but to smile widely when the two of you locked eyes with each other and Jungkook did the same, his nose scrunching up adorably. 

Soon enough, you and your father made it to the altar and Jungkook moved to stand next to your father on the opposite side of you while the priest motioned for the guests to take their seats.

“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” The priest asked. 

“Her mother and I do,” Edric answered. You turned to him then, allowing him to kiss your cheek over your veil before he shook Jungkook’s hand and went to his seat in the front row. 

“We are gathered here today to witness the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” the priest began. “If there’s anyone who has just cause why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” When a few seconds of silence were all that followed afterward, the priest continued on. 

“Being as though this is both a wedding ceremony and a coronation of sorts, we’ll keep things straight and to the point, like our Queen here,” the priest joked, making you, Jungkook, and all of the guests laugh. “Rings, please.” Jimin stepped forward and handed you Jungkook’s wedding band, while Taehyung handed Jungkook yours.

“Queen Y/N, we’ll start with you. Please take Jungkook’s hand and repeat after me,” he instructed and you nodded, holding onto Jungkook’s left hand while you held his wedding band in your right. “I promise to be there for you, in sickness and in health.”

“I promise to be there for you, in sickness and in health,” you echoed. 

“For better or worse.”

“For better or worse.”

“For richer or poorer.”

“For richer or poorer.”

“Til death do us part.”

“Til death do us part,” you finished, sliding the band onto his fourth finger then. 

“Prince Jungkook, now you,” the priest said and you and Jungkook switched hands, your left hand resting in his now. “I promise to be there for you, in sickness and in health.”

“I promise to be there for you, in sickness and in health,” Jungkook repeated.

“For better or worse.”

“For better or worse.”

“For richer or poorer.”

“For richer or poorer.”

“Til death do us part.”

“Til death do us part,” Jungkook said as he slid your ring onto your ring finger. 

“Now Prince Jungkook, please answer the following questions with honesty,” the priest said. “Do you solemnly vow to guard and aid the kingdom of Zamia?”

“I do,” Jungkook nodded, his grip on your hand tight and reassuring. 

“Do you vow to go to war for the kingdom of Zamia, if the need ever arises?”

“I do.”

“And do you solemnly vow to act in the best interests of this kingdom at all times, to the best of your ability?” The priest finished. 

“I do,” Jungkook agreed and you smiled proudly, your heart warming at hearing Jungkook answer the same questions that you had on the day of your coronation five years prior.

“Please kneel,” the priest said and Jungkook let go of your hand before he got down on one knee. Councilwoman Kim stepped up onto the altar then, holding a pillow that held a replica of your crown on top. The priest took ahold of the crown, picking it up and moving slowly before gently lowering it down onto Jungkook’s head. Once he did, Jungkook stood up again and grabbed ahold of your hand again. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife, as well as Queen and King of Zamia,” the priest declared. “King Jungkook, you may now kiss your bride.”

Jungkook turned to you, reaching down and grabbing the hem of your veil before lifting it up and over your head. Wrapping your arms around each other, Jungkook pulled you into a searing kiss which made the guests inside the church and even the citizens outside of the church cheer wildly. 

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

“I love you too,” you replied with a grin. 

.............................................................

“Jungkook, watch out!” Jungkook turned around at the sound of your voice, his eyes almost bugging out of his head when he saw a ball of fire coming straight at him. Using his super speed, he ran over to the other side of your bedroom, sighing heavily when the ball of fire hit one of the large potted planets that sat next to the window and lit it aflame.

“Y/N-ah,” he huffed. 

“It’s not my fault! It’s the babies,” you pouted as you walked out of the en suite bathroom, your hands cradling the bottom of your large baby bump. You were nine months pregnant and due any day with twins. You and Jungkook had only been married for nine months as well, meaning that you had gotten pregnant on your wedding night (or the day of your Gift Ceremony, which you felt was the more likely possibility but no one knew about that besides you and Jungkook).

“I’ll be happy when you give birth and stop accidentally setting things on fire,” Jungkook said, grabbing one of the many fire extinguishers that had been placed throughout the palace during your pregnancy and using it to put out the burning leaves. 

“Again, it’s not me,” you whined. “I’m having contractions, which is making it harder to control.” The thing that was causing you to set things on fire was power tapping, which is something a lot of people experienced while they were pregnant. It just meant that you had access to whatever power your future child was going to have while you were still carrying them, meaning that one, or god forbid both, of your children were going to have the power of pyrokinesis. 

“Just imagine what it’s gonna be like for the first five years of their lives,” Jungkook shuddered at the thought and you did your best to take some deep breaths. “How are you contractions though?”

“Getting painful,” you confessed. “They’ve been steadily getting worse since last night.”

“Maybe we should call the doctor then? Get you ready to bring the little ones into the world?” he offered, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you. You gratefully leaned into his embrace, wrapping your own arms around his waist as you laid your cheek on his chest. 

“I’m nervous,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Why?”

“Because I’m gonna have to give birth to two babies and once they’re born, I’ll be stuck here in the palace while you take over for me,” you explained. 

“Hey, we talked about this,” Jungkook scolded you softly. “You staying here and recovering with our babies is more important than you going back to work and inevitably stressing yourself out trying to do everything at once. Plus, this is a part of the reason why I’m here for you, to take some of the stress and worry off of your shoulders. I got you baby.”

“I know,” you smiled as you looked up at him. “I know and I trust you. I’ve just never taken any time off.”

“That’s why you deserve it,” he told you. “You have to take care of you, ok?”

“Alright,” you groaned, clutching onto his shirt when you felt another contraction begin.

“Should Jimin hyung call the doctor?” He asked and you nodded your head rapidly. 

“Please.” 

Seven hours later, you were laying in your bed with your son and your daughter on your chest. Your labor has been easily the hardest thing you’d ever done but as soon as you saw their little faces, which were a perfect mix of your own face and Jungkook’s, you knew that all the months of morning sickness, mood swings, and setting almost everything (and everyone) on fire had been worth it.

“Y/N, you did so good baby,” Jungkook grinned, leaning over and kissing your forehead.

“I didn’t think I was gonna make it there for a second,” you chuckled. “But I’m just happy that they’re here and healthy.”

“We still have to name them,” he pointed out. 

“Well, I don’t know about him but I like Ja-young for her,” you said, lifting one of your hands and running it over your daughter’s thick, curly hair. 

“How about Jung-hwa for him?” Jungkook offered. 

“Sounds good,” you smiled. “Little Ja-young and Jung-hwa.”

“I love you so much, Y/N-ah,” he whispered and you looked up at him, still not used to how much love would be in Jungkook’s eyes any time that you saw him looking at you. 

“I love you too,” you replied, sighing happily when he leaned forward and captured your lips with his. Before you met Jungkook, you’d have no interest in marriage or having a family but now that you did, you couldn’t imagine your life without them. All it took was a Prince from an unassuming kingdom to teach you that what was really important in life that was to someone who loved you, without conditions and without reservations. 

Yeah, you were pretty damn lucky to have Jeon Jungkook in your life. 

#bt #bangtanarmynet #bangtanbathhouse #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts reactions #btsblackcreatorsociety

[dysco-lymonade]

What about a silly 3 men and a baby type fic except it's just Clexa somehow getting an infant forced on them out of the blue and then falling in love while figuring out how to care for the kid. Or maybe you could do one where one gets a letter not meant for her and it's from the other. The rest is up to you😂

I will be affectionately referring to this AU as 2Girls1Baby until I think of, or am recommended a new title.

This is a work in progress, but I wanted to give you a little snippet, Anon, because this AU is living in my head rent-free now.

A little back story. Raven and Anya have an 18 month old baby, and they have to go out of town. Their last resort for childcare is leaving their daughter, Tris, with Clarke and Lexa.

Clarke and Lexa have been roommates for a while now, really only knowing each other through Anya and Raven. Anya is Lexa's sister; Raven is Clarke's best friend. They live together, but don't really associate aside from that.

“So what now?” Clarke looks at Lexa, perplexed.

“Well, I guess we'll just keep her alive until Monday. That won’t be too hard… Right?” Lexa searches for comfort in Clarke’s gaze, receiving nothing of the sort.

“Anya is your sister! This is your problem.” Clarke gestures toward the 18 month old in the car seat currently chilling on their living room floor, kicking her feet at a dangling raccoon that is attached to the handle of her carrier.

“Raven is your best friend!” Lexa scolds in a hushed voice, not wanting to disturb the currently occupied toddler.

“Blood is thicker than water, right?” Clarke scoffs and walks away, to close herself up in her bedroom as per usual.

With a heavy sigh, Lexa cautiously approaches the toddler. “Hey, Tris.” She mumbles, “I’m your Aunt Lexa, we’re going to be great friends.” Suddenly, Tris realizes that neither of her mothers are within sight.

A wail that Lexa is surprised didn’t shatter their windows, falls from Tris’s mouth.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, no. Shh- Shh, it's okay sweetheart. You’re okay. Aunt Lexa’s got you. We’re going to have so much fun…” Lexa searches around the living room, desperate to find something to occupy this kid’s attention. Anya had warned her that they were trying to limit her time with electronics, so she wouldn’t become reliant on them. The TV was out of the question.

Lexa whips her phone out of her pocket, scrolls through Spotify, and comes across a Disney playlist. She turns it on, and connects the phone to the bluetooth speaker in the living room.

“HAKUNA MATATA WHAT A WONDERFUL PHRASE” comes out entirely too loud, and only makes Tris cry harder.

“Shit, shit, shi- shoot, shoot, crap, dang it.” Lexa silences her phone. “Okay, maybe a bit more preparation for that, eh? Okay, so, find the speaker… where is it? Oh, there it is!” She locates the bluetooth speaker next to the television. “Now to turn the volume down, huh? That was wayyyy too loud. Aunt Clarke must have been in the zone the last time she was painting.” Lexa continues to ramble to herself, not realizing until she pulls her phone back out that Tris has stopped her wailing.

“Oh. You’re a conversationalist, are you?” She asks with a cheeky grin towards the 18 month old. She puts on the Disney playlist, on a low volume for background noise.

“Did your Mamas tell you the shi- crap I’ve been going through at work?” She waits a beat, Tris looks at her with big, bloodshot eyes, from her crying fit. 

“No? Okay, so let me just tell you. My boss,” she clears her throat and takes on a comedic Renaissance accent, “Executive Chef, Charles Pike, total idiot,” Lexa then resumes her regular speaking voice, “decided today that he was going to have a five course meal planned for the Water’s wedding tomorrow.” She scoffs.

Tris just babbles along while kicking her raccoon and eyeing Lexa suspiciously. 

“Exactly, that’s what I said. And then Pike has the gall to walk over to me and ask me to get it done by the end of the day, like I don’t already have 42 things on my plate. Because this man has made weaponized incompetence into a fuc-freaking art form.”

“Truck truck truck?” Tris all but screams at Lexa.

“You’re totally right, I should’ve told him to walk in front of a truck.”

"Truck, truck, TRUUUCK” Tris starts to wail.

“Truck? Where is the truck?” Lexa starts to rummage through her diaper bag. “Oh god, WHERE IS THE TRUCK?!”

In her panic, Lexa doesn’t realize that Clarke had emerged from her bedroom, and is currently walking towards Tris with a small yellow Tonka truck in her hands.

“Is this what you want, baby girl?” Clarke coos.

Lexa’s head snaps to attention and finds Clarke currently knelt next to her niece, shaking the truck slowly in front of her face. Tris has stopped crying, and currently has her full attention on Clarke’s hands.

“Clarke?” 

“Don’t mention it, I was just tired of hearing you talk about work.” Her roommate quips back, and then starts making vrooming truck noises to occupy the toddler.

“You don’t have to do this, Clarke. I am more than capable of-”

She’s cut off by Clarke, “Babysitting should be about more than just surviving, don’t we deserve better than that?”

Lexa gapes at her, unsure how to respond. 

“I might be a hypocrite, Lexa. But you’re a liar. You have no idea what you’re doing taking care of a baby.” Clarke jests with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t lie to everyone, not you.” She mumbles quietly.

“Well, if you care about me, and Tris, you’ll go make a bottle for her. I think she’s hungry.” Clarke retorts, a bit softer than she had been previously.

#2Girls1Baby #anon #Tris declaring Pike should walk in front of a truck courtesy of our very own KP #I have no idea where I'm taking this AU #but here it is #I hope you like it #feel free to send asks about these two idiots taking care of a baby

[final-girl96]

My Boyfriend's Back Chapter Forty-Three

I walked into the living room and rested my hands on the back of the couch. "Yn!" I sighed, pushed off the couch, and made my way to Sidney. When I walked out the door and down the steps, I stopped. Right across from the set of Stu's house was ours. "What the fuck?" I whispered. Sidney was standing right in front of the house that was made to look exactly like our childhood home.

We walked into the house and looked around. They had a set for Sidney's bedroom and mine. They looked exactly like they did when we were in high school. "This is insane," I said, standing by the windows in Sidney's bedroom. "Yeah, it takes me right back to that week," she said. The next couple seconds happened so fast we had no time to comprehend anything.

We were running through the set of our house until we were back in the room that was burned into our brains forever. Our mothers room looked damn near identical to that very night. They even had a dumb under a white blood-stained sheet on the floor. Then it stood up and started talking, saying our names. We backed up towards the window, and I climbed out with Sidney close behind.

Sidney's foot slipped and she grabbed a hold of me only to make us both fall and tumble off the roof. Voices yelling our names caught our attention. Dewey and Randy came into view along with the detectives and other officers came running towards us. Sidney frantically told them the killer was in the house. But when they checked there was no one there. That wasn't a surprise.

Now Sidney and I were alone in Kindaids office. "So…Kincaid is handsome…" I was walking around the room looking at everything. I stood in front of the whiteboard where they had names and leads written on it. "Yeah, he is." Sidney said in a distracted tone. I turned around to see her looking at something. "What's that?" I asked.

"A file on me. There's one for you too,'she said and handed it to me. I opened it to see police reports from when our mom was murdered, newspaper clippings from after Stu and Billy's killing spree. When I flipped the page there was a paper that had Stu's name with a question mark. His wanted poster was behind it with other clippings. Then I saw something that made my heart stop then speed up.

Is yn Prescott hiding Stu Macher?

Is he the father of her child Resselynn Prescott?

Has she known where he's been since the Woodsboro massacre?

"Are you okay?" Sidney asked. "He thinks I'm hiding Stu," I whispered. "What?" She gently took the file from me and went silent. "Is…is Stu…" I stopped her before she could completely ask me that question. I walked over and closed the door so no one could hear us. "We both know that you all know he is. He was at Windsor. He was behind Windsor actually. And I know I shouldn't have done anything. I should have called the police. It was stupid and now… I love my daughter and I'm glad I have her."

"I know you were seeing him. You're not very good at hiding shit. Just like I knew every time he snuck into your room. Do you know where he is now?" She asked. I gave a look and she sighed. "He just showed up, Sid. Now Reese is attached to him. I couldn't just say no to him, I was afraid he'd do something. And I hate myself because I still love him!"

Before we could get into it more Sidney's cell phone rang. There was no surprise to who it was either. The killer had Gale and Dewey, she said she could hear their muffled screams in the background. Now we were outside a big mansion on top of a hill. There was supposed to be a party for Roman Bridge, the director of Stab 3, here. The mansion belongs to a big time producer or something.

Instead of going for the front door we went around back to where the pool was. Laying on the ground was one of the actors; dead. Sidney's phone rang and she answered. He made us use a metal detector and get rid of the guns we took from Kincade's office. When asked how we knew this wasn't some trap we were told to look inside. Through the window we could see Gale and Dewey tied to chairs with rope.

Nothing made sense when Kincade showed up. At first I thought maybe I was wrong and Stu didn't have anything to do with any of this. But he had admitted to killing Cotton. Kincade being the killer faded just as fast as the thought came when he was shot. Randy was right about this killer being "superhuman". He was shot several times and nothing happened except for him disappearing.

Somehow we all got separated. I was alone, walking the halls slowly, making sure to look around each corner. I yelped when I ended up running into someone. "Shh! It's me. It's just me!" Hands were holding me by the shoulders. I looked up to see Randy. "Randy?" He put his finger to his lips and pulled me into what looked like the study. "What the hell? When did you get here?" I asked. He looked at me like I lost my mind. You called me, yn. You said to meet you here."

It was my turn to look at him like he was crazy. "Umm…no. No, I did not. What the fuck are you talking about?" I never called him. The last time I spoke to him was right before Sidney and I were taken back to the station. "You fucking called me…" he was cut off by someone banging on the door. I looked around the room for any place to hide, even though I knew that was impossible.

Then I saw it; the smallest amount of light coming from under one of the bookcases. "Hey, help me. This has to be one of those secret doors or something." I checked for a seam that could be pulled but found nothing. Randy started to pull on the books, throwing them on the floor, so I began to help him. My hand landed on one of the books and pulled down. The bookcase swung out towards us, and we rushed into a small hallway. Randy pulled the bookcase closed and locked it from our side before we continued on.

#scream #scream fanfiction #stu macher x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface #scream x you #scream x reader #scream x yn #scream 2 #scream 3 #stu x reader #stu macher fanfiction #stu macher imagine #stu macher smut #stu macher x y/n #stu macher x you #stu macher #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x you #ghostface fanfiction #gale weathers #dewey riley #randy meeks #sidney prescott #roman bridger #mark Kincaid #horror fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #rating: nc17 #nc 17

[misstwisted]

My dramatic scene essay analysis of Black Christmas 2006

(CW/TW: Pretty much the entirety of Billy’s tragic backstory is talked about, which has the topics of i*cest/CSA in it. Please read at your own risk, you are very cared about and I don’t want you to ever feel upset. 💗)

Back of somewhere in the end of June, I got back into the slashers fandom. I reunited with my love for Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Ghostface, etc.

I rewatched old scenes, fell back into slasher tumblr, and felt extreme disappointment watching dead meat’s review of Halloween kills for the first time and reading the wiki for Halloween ends now then knowing my favorite franchise was ruined yet again. Somehow worse than curse and resurrection.

But soon, I got tired and wanted to scout out horror movies I haven’t heard/seen of yet. That’s how I was introduced to Black Christmas, which I’m pretty sure is the original slasher.

I watched dead meats video on the 2006 one because at the time I didn’t have any access to watching the movie, and I watched the scenes in there entirety on YouTube.

I really enjoyed the original one when I watched it on fully YouTube. It was interesting and even made me laugh a bunch.

But when I was watching all the scenes of the remake, one of the scenes stuck out to me. The scene that made me have a attachment to the remake.

The entire scene of Billy taking revenge on his mother and step father.

It spoke to me in a way only few horror scenes did. It stuck out to me over every other scene of black Christmas 1974. That’s not to bash the original, but, it’s the truth.

I wanted to make an essay analysis of the scene because I believe it’s one of the most cathartic and justice inducing scenes in horror. This scene deserves more recognition, and I just hope you all will hear me out about it.

Also, just me giving props to Robert Mann’s performance because I honestly think he did amazing at making me feel emotional.

I apologize if you all find this cringe/dramatic/ overthinking, but it’s just how I feel.

also if I somehow make you feel even more sympathy for 2006 billy that’s all I could truly ask for.

Let’s get started:

The scene starts out in 1991.

Billy was 21 years old at this time. A fully fledged adult who hasn’t been outside in the world for 16 whole years. Most likely never even getting an education.

The 21 year old finds a Christmas present in his room, a telescope given to him by his mother and step father.

He reads the note that’s attached to it, and in it reads the passive aggressive writing of his mother:

“Be good for goodness sake!”

This man has been through hell in back thanks to this woman. She took everything from him.

She took away his childhood. She took away his father, the only person that could’ve protected him from her. She took away his freedom, then took away his innocence. He had nothing but himself alone in the attic for 16 years thanks to her.

Never being able to experience anything. Not love, not friendship, not anything.

Getting that letter was the salt in the wound.

After everything she’s done to him, she still finds any way to kick him like a dying dog.

He slams his hands on the telescope just to take out his boiling anger on something, anything. His anger against the world, his mother, his stepfather. And also most likely has his own anger towards Christmas itself. Probably frustrated and confused on why this all happened to him. What did he do to deserve this?

He watches the next door neighbors quietly at his small window with the telescope. He watches happy families living peacefully together. Gifting things to each other, embracing one another, actions towards one another that aren’t inflicting abuse. A daughter hugging her father right in front of his eyes.

It’s a wonder if his mom did this on purpose. Giving him that specific present just to remind him he could never leave and that he’ll never have a happy moment again like that family was having. He’ll be forced to watch on the sidelines as a happy family celebrate Christmas together in the cold attic with the mean spirited gift his mom gave him. In general, He’ll never have a happy family. The present had to be some stupid inside joke for his mother and step father.

The way Robert Mann’s opens his eyes in this scene and the camera moving closer speaks volumes to me. Billy realizing he can’t live like this anymore. Billy realizing what he needs to do.

His mother meanwhile is downstairs gifting a baby doll to his sister-daughter. Treating her better than she ever did billy.

Then, when he tricks her into leaving, he goes to attack poor Agnes. I can see him having multiple reasons of attacking her. Wanting to take something from his mom the way she took everything from him, wanting to get revenge on Agnes even though she didn’t ask for this either but jealously and pain blinding him, and probably wanting to rid the person that is a reminder of the disgusting thing his mother did to him as a child.

As his mom and stepfather run late to stop him, he rubs salt in THEIR wound by disgustingly eating Agnes’s eye in front of them. Then when his step father attempts to attack him, Billy stabs straight through his eye, getting the revenge he’s saved for years to get on him after he also took away his dad.

And as his mom cries at the consequences of her own actions, Billy lunges at her and chokes her with the Christmas lights. He slowly kills her, giving her all the pain she instilled in him for so many years back.

But it doesn’t stop there. She doesn’t deserve for it to stop there. She doesn’t deserve to at least have a preserved body after everything she has done to him. Did his father get his body preserved by her and his step father? Nope. Why should she?

So, what comes next really wraps the neat little bow on this scene for me.

In the next sequence, Billy drags her limp ass to the kitchen with the Christmas lights like it’s a leash for a dog, quickly grabs a rolling pin, and starts beating the ever loving shit out of his mom’s body.

The way he does it is like he’s been waiting to do this his whole life. And he probably has.

He takes his sweet time too. He clocks her with each hit getting more and more aggressive. The hits hold so much emotion in them. The way billy seemed to be unleashing his trauma with every swing is done so perfectly I seriously have to give Robert Mann a round of applause of it. And the way his facial expression is like focusness mixed with unadulterated rage is perfect to me.

It’s like his boiling anger has flooded over. The way he portrayed billy in this whole scene I almost have no words. It just hits me deep every single time.

Billy then finishes out this, in my opinion, amazing scene by turning his mothers flesh into fucking cookies. What an ending.

Then he eats them alone in silence as the police arrive.

When we find out he got put into a sanitarium, it kinda broke my heart.

I mean, he obviously needs to get help, I understand that, but it made me so sad that this kid who has been locked in an attic for 16 long years had escaped and killed his abusers, only to be thrown back into isolation after.

Broke my heart. And poor Agnes too. That girl never asked for any of this and suffered for her mother’s actions.

So yeah, that scene is great to me. And it deserves more recognition.

As a person who has suffers from abuse, that anger he portrayed makes me tear up a bit. I related hard to wanting to get revenge on the people who have hurt me. Obviously not to that degree but you get my point. I can see how desperately Billy wanted to.

I feel like 2006 billy has more depth than people think.

Personally I think the flashbacks are the best part of the movie. If it was up to me I would’ve wanted them to make a backstory movie about billy instead of remaking it but that’s another story.

Side note about something, why the FUCK did Melissa ask: “Did they ever find out from him why he killed his family?”

Girl did you LISTEN to any of the stories these characters were telling you about him? The part where he was locked up for years, the part where his mom and step dad killed his father, the part where he out of his control had a inbred child?! Or are none of those good enough reasons to kill his “family”? 💀

Anyways, Thank you all for reading!

Also Robert Mann please act in more movies!

Oh and for the people who wanted to be tagged :)

@kiki-dohedo

@downtowncannibal

thank you all for the support on the Black Christmas post!!!

#black christmas movie #black christmas 2006 #black xmas 2006 #slashers fandom #slasher fandom #black christmas 1974 #billy lenz 2006 #billy lenz

[shuxiii]

Everyday pt.4

Hanni Pham x reader pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt13

a/n I know some idols have no siblings but pretend they have in this one because I am lazy, still all credits to ''every day'' by David Levithan meow

Day 5999

My mind is thoroughly wrung out, but I can tell Haruto Watanabe has gotten a good night’s sleep.

Haruto is a good guy. Everything in his room is in order. Even though it’s only Saturday morning, he’s already done his homework for the weekend. He’s set his alarm for eight o’clock, not wanting the day to go to waste. He was probably in bed by ten.

I go on his computer and check my email, making sure to write myself some notes about the last few days, so I can remember them. Then I log in to Minji’s email and find out there’s a party tonight at Huh Yunjin’s house. Yunjin’s address is only a Google search away. When I map out the distance between Haruto’s house and Yunjin’s, I find it’s only a ninety-minute drive.

It looks like Haruto might be going to a party tonight.

First, I must convince his parents.

His mother interrupts me when I’m back on my own email, rereading what I wrote about the day with Hanni. I very quickly shut the window, and oblige when she tells me that today is not a computer day, and that I am to come down for breakfast.

I very quickly discover that Haruto’s parents are a very nice couple who make it very clear that their niceness shouldn’t be challenged or pressed.

“Can I borrow the car?” I ask. “The school musical is tonight, and I would like to go see it.”

“Have you done your homework?”

I nod.

“Your chores?”

“I will.”

“And you’ll be back by midnight?”

I nod. I decide not to mention to them that if I’m not back by midnight, I’ll be ripped from my current body. I don’t think they’d find that reassuring.

It’s clear to me that they won’t need the car tonight. They are the type of parents who don’t believe in having a social life. They have television instead.

I spend most of the day doing chores. After I’m done with them and have had a family dinner, I’m good to go.

The party’s supposed to start at seven, so I know I have to wait until nine to show up, so there will be enough people there to hide my presence. If I get there and it ends up being open to only a dozen kids, I’ll have to turn back around. But that doesn’t strike me as Minji’s kind of party.

Haruto’s kind of party, I’m guessing, involves board games and Dr Pepper. As I drive back to Hanni’s town, I access some of his memories. I am a firm believer that every person, young or old, has at least one good story to tell. Haruto’s, however, is pretty hard to find. The only tremor of emotion I can find in his life is when he was nine and his dog April died. Ever since then, nothing seems to have disturbed him too much. Most of his memories involve homework. He has friends, but they don’t do very much outside of school. When Little League was over, he gave up sports. He has never, from what I can tell, sipped anything stronger than a beer, and even that was during a Father’s Day barbecue, at his uncle’s prodding.

Normally, I would take these as parameters. Normally, I would stay within Haruto’s safe zone.

But not today. Not with a chance of seeing Hanni again.

I remember yesterday, and how the trail that got me through the darkness seemed to be attached in some way to her. It’s as if when you love someone, they become your reason. And maybe I’ve gotten it backward, maybe it’s just because I need a reason that I find myself falling in love with her. But I don’t think that’s it. I think I would have continued along, oblivious, if I hadn’t happened to meet her.

Now I’m letting my life hijack these other lives for a day. I am not staying within their parameters. Even if that’s dangerous.

I’m at Huh Yunjin’s house by eight, but Minji’s car is nowhere in sight. In fact, there aren’t that many cars out in front. So I wait and watch. After a while, people start arriving. Even though I’ve just spent a day and a half at their school, I don’t recognize any of them. They were all peripheral.

Finally, just after nine-thirty, Minji’s car pulls up. Hanni is with her, as I’d hoped she’d be. As they head in, she walks a little bit in front, with her a little behind. I get out of my car and follow them inside.

I’m worried there will be someone at the door, but the party’s already spiraled into its own form of chaos. The early guests are well past the point of drunkenness, and everyone else is quickly catching up. I know I look out of place—Haruto’s wardrobe is more suited to a debate tournament than a Saturday night house party. But nobody really cares; they’re too caught up in each other or themselves to notice a random geek in their midst.

The lights are dim, the music is loud, and Hanni is hard to find. But just the fact that I am in the same place as her has me nervously exhilarated.

Minji is in the kitchen, talking with some guys. She looks at ease, in her element. She finishes one beer and immediately goes for another.

I push past her, push through the living room and find myself in the den. The instant I step in the room, I know she’s here. Even though the music’s blaring from a laptop connected to some speakers, she’s over by the CD collection, thumbing through cases. Two girls are talking nearby, and I have a sense that at one point she was a part of their conversation, then decided to drop out.

I walk over and see that one of the CDs she’s looking at has a song we listened to on our car ride.

“I really like them,” I say, gesturing to the CD. “Do you?”

She startles, as if this is a quiet room and I am a sudden noise. I notice you, I want to say. Even when no one else does, I do. I will.

“Yeah,” she says. “I like them, too.”

I start to sing the song, the one from the car. Then I say, “I like that one in particular.”

“Do I know you?” she asks.

“I’m Haruto,” I say, which isn’t a no or a yes.

“I’m Hanni,” she says.

“That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks. I used to hate it, but I don’t so much anymore.”

“Why?”

“It’s just a pain to spell.” She looks at me closely. “Do you go to Octavian?”

“No. I’m just here for the weekend. Visiting my cousin.”

“Who’s your cousin?”

“Yunjin.”

This is a dangerous lie, since I have no idea which of the person is Yunjin, and I have no way of accessing the information.

“Oh, that explains it.”

She is starting to drift away from me, just as I imagine she drifted away from the girls talking next to us.

“I hate my cousin,” I say.

This gets her attention.

“I hate the way she treats girls. I hate the way she thinks she can buy all her friends by throwing parties like this. I hate the way that she only talks to you when she needs something. I hate the way she doesn’t seem capable of love.”

I realize I’m now talking about Minji, not Yunjin.

“Then why are you here?” Hanni asks.

“Because I want to see it fall apart. Because when this party gets busted—and if it stays this loud, it will get busted—I want to be a witness. From a safe distance away, of course.”

“And you’re saying she’s incapable of loving Kazuha? They’ve been going out for over a year.”

With a silent apology to Kazuha and Yunjin, I say, “That doesn’t mean anything, does it? I mean, being with someone for over a year can mean that you love them… but it can also mean you’re trapped.”

At first, I think I’ve gone too far. I can feel Hanni taking in my words, but I don’t know what she’s doing with them. The sound of words as they’re said is always different from the sound they make when they’re heard because the speaker hears some of the sounds from the inside.

Finally, she says, “Speaking from experience?”

It’s laughable to think that Haruto—who, from what I can tell, hasn’t gone on a date since eighth grade—would be speaking from experience. But she doesn’t know him, which means I can be more like me. Not that I’m speaking from experience, either. Just the experience of observing.

“There are many things that can keep you in a relationship,” I say. “Fear of being alone. Fear of disrupting the arrangement of your life. A decision to settle for something that’s okay, because you don’t know if you can get any better. Or maybe there’s the irrational belief that it will get better, even if you know he won’t change.”

“He’?”

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

At first I don’t understand what she sees—clearly, I was talking about her. Then I get where the pronoun has led her.

“That cool?” I ask, figuring it will make Haruto even less threatening if he’s gay.

“Completely.”

“How about you?” I ask. “Seeing anyone?”

“Yeah,” she says. Then, deadpan, “For over a year.”

“And why are you still together? Fear of being alone? A decision to settle? An irrational belief that he’ll change?”

“Yes. Yes. And yes.”

“So…”

“But he can also be incredibly sweet. And I know that, deep down, I mean the world to him.”

“Deep down? That sounds like settling to me. You shouldn’t have to venture deep down in order to get to love.”

“Let’s switch the topic, okay? This isn’t a good party topic. I liked it more when you were singing to me.”

I’m about to make reference to another song we heard on our car ride—hoping that maybe it’ll bring her back in some way—when Minji’s voice comes from over my shoulder, asking, “So who’s this?” If she was relaxed when I saw her in the kitchen, now she’s annoyed.

“Don’t worry, Minji,” Hanni says. “He’s gay.”

“Yeah, I can tell from the way he’s dressed. What are you doing here?”

“Haruto, this is Minji, my girlfriend. Minji, this is Haruto.”

I say hi. She doesn’t respond.

“You seen Kazuha?” she asks Hanni. “Yunjin’s looking for her. I think they’re at it again.”

“Maybe she went to the basement.”

“Nah. They’re dancing in the basement.”

Hanni likes this news, I can tell.

“Want to go down there and dance?” she asks Minji.

“Hell no! I didn’t come here to dance. I came here to drink.”

“Charming,” Hanni says, more (I think) for my benefit than her. “Do you mind if I go dance with Haruto?”

“You sure he’s gay?”

“I’ll sing you show tunes if you want me to prove it,” I volunteer.

Minji slaps me on the back. “No, bro, don’t do that, okay? Go dance.”

So that’s how it comes to pass that Hanni is leading me to Huh Yunjin’s basement. As we hit the stairs, we can feel the bass under our feet. It’s a different soundtrack here—a tide of pulse and beat. Only a few red lights are on, so all we can see are the outlines of bodies as they meld together.

“Hey, Yunjin!” Hanni calls out. “I like your cousin!”

A girl who must be Yunjin looks at her and nods. Whether she can’t hear what she’s said or whether she’s trashed, I can’t tell.

“Have you seen Kazuha?” she yells.

“No!” Hanni yells back.

Then we’re in with the dancers. The sad truth is that I have about as much experience on a dance floor as Haruto does. I try to lose myself in the music, but that doesn’t work. Instead, I need to lose myself in Hanni. I have to give myself over entirely to her—I must be her shadow, her complement, the other half of this conversation of bodies. As she moves, I move with her. I touch her back, her waist. She comes in closer.

By losing myself to her, I gain her. The conversation is working. We have found our rhythm and we are riding it. I find myself singing along, singing to her, and she loves it. She transforms once again into someone carefree, and I transform into someone whose only care is her.

“You’re not bad!” she shouts over the music.

“You’re amazing!” I shout back.

I know that Minji is not coming down here. She is safe with Huh Yunjin’s gay cousin, and I am safe knowing that nobody else will interfere with this moment. The songs collide into one long song—as if one singer is taking over when the previous one stops, all of them taking turns to give us this. The sound waves push us into each other, wrap around us like colors. We are paying attention to each other and we are paying attention to the enormity. The room has no ceiling; the room has no walls. There is only the open field of our excitement, and we run across it in small movements, sometimes without our feet leaving the ground. We go for what feels like hours and also feels like no time at all. We go until the music stops, until someone turns on the lights and says the party is ending, that the neighbors have complained and the police are probably coming.

Hanni looks as disappointed as I feel.

“I have to find Minji,” she says. “Are you going to be okay?”

No, I want to tell her. I won’t be okay until you can come with me to wherever it is that I’m going next.

I ask her for her email address, and when she raises an eyebrow, I tell her again not to worry, that I’m still gay.

“That’s too bad,” she says. I want her to say more, but then she’s giving me her email address, and in response I’m giving her a fake email address that I’ll have to set up as soon as I get home.

People are starting to run from the house. Sirens can be heard in the distance, probably waking up as many people as the party has. Hanni leaves me to find Minji, promising me that she’ll be the one to drive. I don’t see them as I run to my car. I know it’s late, but I don’t know how late it is until I turn on the car and look at the clock.

11:15.

There’s no way I’ll get there in time.

Seventy miles an hour.

Eighty miles an hour.

Eighty-five.

I drive as fast as I can, but it’s not fast enough.

At 11:50, I pull over to the side of the road. If I close my eyes, I should be able to fall asleep before midnight. That is the blessing of what I have to go through—I am able to fall asleep in minutes.

Poor Haruto Watanabe. He is going to wake up on the side of an interstate, an hour away from his home. I can only imagine how terrified he’ll be.

I am a monster for doing this to him.

But I have my reason.

Day 6000

It’s time for Yoon Kee Ho to go to church.

I quickly dress myself in his Sunday best, which either he or his mother conveniently left out the night before. Then I go downstairs and have breakfast with his mother and his three sisters. There’s no father in sight. It doesn’t take much accessing to know he left just after the youngest daughter was born, and it’s been a struggle for their mom ever since.

There’s only one computer in the house, and I have to wait until Keeho’s mother is getting the girls ready to go before I can quickly boot it up and create the email address I gave Hanni last night. I can only hope that she hasn’t tried to get in touch with me already.

Keeho's name is being called—it’s church time. I sign off, clear the history, and join my sisters in the car. It takes me a few minutes to get their names straight—Pam is eleven, Lacey is ten, and Jenny is eight. Only Jenny seems excited about going to church.

When we get there, the girls head off to Sunday school while I join Keeho’s mother in the main congregation. I prepare myself for a Baptist service and try to remember what makes it different from the other church services I’ve been to.

I have been to many religious services over the years. Each one I go to only reinforces my general impression that religions have much, much more in common than they like to admit. The beliefs are almost always the same; it’s just that the histories are different. Everybody wants to believe in a higher power. Everybody wants to belong to something bigger than themselves, and everybody wants company in doing that. They want there to be a force of good on earth, and they want an incentive to be a part of that force. They want to be able to prove their belief and their belonging, through rituals and devotion. They want to touch the enormity.

It’s only in the finer points that it gets complicated and contentious, the inability to realize that no matter what our religion or gender or race or geographic background, we all have about 98 percent in common with each other. Yes, the differences between male and female are biological, but if you look at the biology as a matter of percentage, there aren’t a whole lot of things that are different. Race is different purely as a social construction, not as an inherent difference. And religion—whether you believe in God or Yahweh or Allah or something else, odds are that at heart you want the same things. For whatever reason, we like to focus on the 2 percent that’s different, and most of the conflict in the world comes from that.

The only way I can navigate through my life is because of the 98 percent that every life has in common.

I think of this as I go through the rituals of a Sunday morning at church. I keep looking at Keeho’s mother, who is so tired, so taxed. I feel as much belief in her as I do in God—I find faith in human perseverance, even as the universe throws challenge after challenge our way. This might be one of the things I saw in Hanni, too—her desire to persevere.

After church, we head to Keeho’s grandmother’s house for Sunday dinner. There’s no computer, and even if it weren’t a three-hour drive away, there wouldn’t be any way for me to get to Hanni. So I take it as a day of rest. I play games with my sisters and make a ring of hands with the rest of my family when it’s time to say grace.

The only discord comes when we’re driving home and a fight breaks out in the backseat. As sisters, they probably have closer to 99 percent in common, but they’re not about to recognize that. They’d rather fight over what kind of pet they’re going to get … even though I’m not sensing any indication from their mother that a pet is in their near future. It’s an argument for its own sake.

When we get home, I bide my time before asking if I can use the computer. It’s in a very public place, and I will need everyone to be in another room in order to check my email. While the three girls run around, I retire to Keeho’s room and do his weekend homework the best that I can. I am banking on the fact that Keeho has a later bedtime than his sisters, and in this I am correct. After Sunday supper, the girls get an hour of television in the same room as the computer. Then Keeho’s mother tells them it’s time to get ready for bed. There’s much protest, but it falls on deaf ears. This is its own kind of ritual, and Mom always wins.

While Keeho’s mother is getting the girls into their pajamas and getting out their clothes for tomorrow, I have a few minutes on my own. I quickly check the email I set up in the morning, and there’s no message from Hanni yet. I decide it can’t hurt to be proactive here, so I type in her address and start an email before I can stop myself.

Hi Hanni,

I just wanted to say that it was lovely meeting you and dancing with you last night. I’m sorry the police came and separated us. Even though you’re not my type, gender-wise, you’re certainly my type, person-wise. Please keep in touch.

H

That seems safe enough to me. Clever, but not self-congratulatorially so. Sincere, but not overbearing. It’s only a few lines, but I reread it at least a dozen times before I hit send. I let go of the words and wonder what words will come back. If any.

Bedtime seems to be taking a while—it sounds like there’s some argument about which chapter their read-aloud left off on—so I load up my personal email.

Such an ordinary gesture. One click, and the instant appearance of the inbox, in all its familiar rows.

But this time it’s like walking into a room and finding a bomb right in the middle of it.

There, under a bookstore newsletter, is an incoming message from none other than Haruto Watanabe.

The subject line is WARNING.

I read:

I don’t know who you are or what you are or what you did to me yesterday, but I want you to know you won’t get away with it. I will not let you possess me or destroy my life. I will not remain quiet. I know what happened and I know you must be in some way responsible. Leave me alone. I am not your host.

“Are you okay?”

I turn and find Keeho’s mother in the doorway.

“I’m fine,” I say, positioning myself in front of the screen.

“Alright, then. You have ten minutes more, then I want you to help me unload the dishwasher and head to bed. We have a long week ahead of us.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I turn back to the email. I don’t know how to respond, or if I should respond. I have a vague recollection of Haruto’s mother interrupting me while I was on the computer—I must have closed the window without clearing the history. So when Haruto loaded up his email, it must have been my address that popped up. But he doesn’t know my password, so the account itself should be safe. Just in case, though, I know I need to change my password and move all my old emails, quick.

I will not remain quiet.

I wonder what this means.

I can’t forward all my old emails in the ten minutes that I have, but I start to make a dent in them.

“Keeho!”

Keeho’s mother calls me and I know I have to go. But clearing the history and turning off the computer can’t stop my thoughts. I think about Haruto waking up on the side of the road. I try to imagine what he must have felt. But the truth is, I don’t know. Did he feel like it was something he had gotten himself into? Or did he immediately know that something was wrong, that someone else had been in control? Was he sure of this when he went to his computer and saw my email address?

Who does he think I am?

What does he think I am?

I head into the kitchen and Keeho’s mother gives me another look of concern. She and Keeho are close, I can tell. She knows how to read her son. Over the years, they’ve been there for each other. He’s helped raise his sisters. And she’s raised him.

If I really were Keeho, I could tell her everything. If I really were Keeho, no matter how hard it was to understand, she would be on my side. Fiercely. Unconditionally.

But I am not really her son, or anyone’s son. I can’t disclose what’s bothering Keeho today, because it doesn’t have much bearing on who he’ll be tomorrow. So I brush off his mother’s concern, tell her it’s no big deal, then help her take the dishes out of the dishwasher. We work in quiet camaraderie until the task is done, and sleep calls.

For a while, though, I can’t go to sleep. I lie in bed, stare at the ceiling. This is the irony: Even though I wake up in a different body every morning, I’ve always felt in some way that I am in control.

But now I don’t feel in control at all.

Now there are other people involved.

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