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anyasathenaeum · 2 months

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Cherish You (Vash x Reader smut)

A/N: Hey guys, I'm back from the dead after one hell of a time. Anyways, literally nobody asked for this, I just felt like writing this because Vash is the loml and he deserves to be loved and be given lots of orgasms. I'm still awful at writing smut so please don't perceive me okay thanks bye Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader (female terms used), smut (lots of it), P in V sex, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), overall loving & tender sex, restraints, riding, praise, a hint of angst (poor baby Vash struggles with his self-worth), reader doesn't cum (intentionally), crying Word Count: 4.8k

You had known Vash long and well enough to know when he was having a bad day, just like he was today.

While it may not have been obvious to others, with his troubles well-hidden behind his bright smile and goofy personality, you could see past it all to notice the pain in his eyes. His smile, while blinding to others, was hollow to you, and his goofiness seemed slightly more exhausted and strained than usual, as if he were overexerting himself to keep up the façade of everything being alright.

Sure enough, when the two of you had retreated to the safety of your room in some shabby little inn for the night, the carefully curated mask that Vash wore chipped off piece by piece, revealing the wounded, tortured soul of the man underneath it all. The man who believed he deserved nothing good in this world, that only sadness and evil and death would follow him until the end of time.

The man that you loved more than anything.

"Vash..." You called softly to him, kneeling down in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

You gazed up worriedly into his face, a face so beautiful and yet so marred by pain that didn't belong there.

"Don't worry, Mayfly," Vash replied immediately, looking at you with a weak and tired smile, "I'll bounce back in the morning. I just... don't feel too good right now. I'm sure some rest will fix me right up."

"Don't give me that, Stampede," you retorted immediately, feeling frustration rise within you as you reached up and cupped your lover's face in your hands gently yet firmly. "I'm the one person in this world who can see through your lies. You know that."

Your words, while meant kindly, still made Vash flinch slightly, his eyebrows furrowing as he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a heavy sigh. He had no answer to your words, which was an answer in itself - he'd been caught in his blatant lie and he knew it. You knew him better than anybody else, so why did he even bother trying to brush you off, to convince you that he was fine when he was far from it?

You could tell that Vash was struggling with trying to voice what was bothering him, so you waited patiently, your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks as you granted him the time and space to find his voice. Instead, you focused on taking in every little detail of his face - his fluffy blonde hair, his beautiful and expressive blue eyes, his soft lips, the curve of his nose, the mole under his eye, every little piece of him.

"I... I can't protect you, (Y/N). Nothing I do ever seems to stop all the death and anguish that seems to haunt me. Nothing I do is good enough. I lose everything and everyone. I'm afraid... that one day, I'll lose you to it all, too. I can't risk losing you, (Y/N). Not you. Never you. You're... you're the one life I can't ever part with, and you're the one person I never deserved."

Vash's words echoed through the empty room, filled with such fear, pain, heartbreak and love that you felt your eyes begin to sting slightly. You looked up just to see the infamous outlaw gazing down at you, his blue eyes watery and filled with the same emotions you'd heard in his voice.

"Shut up."

You couldn't stop yourself, your tone quiet but your words filled with an underlying anger as they spilled forth, your whole body trembling.

"Shut up, Vash. Stop talking like that, you hear me? You deserve love and happiness and peace. Nothing less than any of that. I chose you. My heart chose you, and it continues to choose you each and every day that I live on this planet. It deemed you worthy. So, I don't believe what you're saying for a second. I love you, Vash. I always have. No matter what happens or what has happened, I love you. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, Stampede. Understood?"

Vash's gaze never left you, not even for a second as you spoke, his blue eyes widening at your words and a few tears slipping down his cheeks as he took in what you had said to him. His brain struggled to comprehend how you could possibly love him as much as you did while his heart practically sang in his chest, calling out to its other half that lived in your chest.

As Vash sat there on the side of the bed, seemingly frozen in place, you stood up before pulling Vash tightly into your arms, holding him as close as you possibly could against you, pressing kisses into his soft hair. After a moment or two, you felt Vash's arms wrapping around you in return, one warm and one cold as he pressed you against him, his face burying itself into your belly as he took comfort from you.

You could feel him trembling as he clutched onto you, his fingers digging slightly into your skin as he held you close, soft, shaky whispers of "I love you. I love you, Mayfly" escaping him against your skin as Vash struggled not to cry.

You ran your fingers through his blonde hair, the tips of your fingers just grazing over his scalp in a soothing, gentle motion, attempting to soothe the love of your life as best as you could. You could feel Vash calming slowly, his breathing evening out and his trembling subsiding as he breathed in your familiar scent and took in your comforting warmth and gentle touch.

"Hang on a second," you murmured to Vash gently once he had calmed, stepping away from him for a moment and causing him to whine loudly in protest at the lack of your embrace and warmth.

You quickly stripped off your clothes, piece by piece, as quickly as you could until you were completely bare before walking back over to Vash, whose eyes were wide in surprise at your sudden nudity, a slight blush spreading over his cheeks.

You giggled at the sight of the colour rising in Vash's cheeks, "Why are you blushing, my love? You've seen me naked many times."

"I've also seen the suns rising over the dunes many times in my life, Mayfly. Doesn't make it any less beautiful every time I see it. Just like you," Vash replied, his eyes taking in every bit of your body as you stood before him.

Now, you were the one blushing, looking off to the side for a moment before smiling lovingly at the man sat before you. You reached out and took Vash's flesh-and-blood hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with his gently before guiding his hand to your breast, letting it rest on your skin. You heard a shaky little breath escaping him as his hand cupped your breast oh-so-gently, and you couldn't help but smile bigger when you saw how Vash gazed at you, as if you had hung the stars in the sky yourself.

"Let me show you how much I love you, Vash," you whispered softly, your tone gentle yet firm. "Please. Let me cherish you."

Vash swallowed softly, nodding his head slowly in consent as he looked up into your eyes, heat and desire beginning to course through his body. Sex was nothing new between the two of you at this point, but something about how you were looking at Vash and how you spoke to him made him feel like something was going to be different this time.

And sure enough, as Vash reached to pull his shirt off, you quickly stopped him, your smaller hand wrapping around his bigger wrist as best as it could. You shook your head at him, smiling softly when you were met by a confused grin from him.

"I want to take care of you. Completely," you explained, a hint of heat rising to your face.

Vash blushed even darker than before at your words, but nodded assent as he let go of his turtleneck, allowing for you to take over just as you had wanted.

Slowly, silently, with nothing but loving touches and gentle caresses, you worked Vash's shirt off of him, then his boots, his holsters, his pants and his socks, leaving him in just his boxers. Your diligent and tender work of undressing him had already affected him, given the very obvious tent in Vash's underwear and the wet spot darkening and growing on the fabric.

"Sit against the headboard, please," you directed Vash gently, waiting for him to follow your request.

The Humanoid Typhoon seemed a little confused by this, but he nodded as he did as you asked, shifting so his back was resting against the headboard, with him sitting up in the bed. Vash seemed gently restless, unsure of your next move, but he trusted you with his heart and soul.

You were his best friend, his other half, his soulmate. You were the only person who had ever seen him this vulnerable, the only person who knew what Vash sounded like as he cried out and moaned in the throes of passion, the only person who knew what he tasted like. You were the only one who ever felt him inside them, the only one who had been filled by him over and over again as he moaned out confessions of love for you against your skin, the only person who would ever be with Vash that way. He belonged to you heart, body and soul, just as you did to him.

Without a word, you crawled into the bed towards Vash, making your way over to him until you were straddling his lap, your pussy grinding oh-so-gently against Vash through his boxers, pulling a hiss from his lips, his hands coming to grip onto your hips, clenching onto you tightly.

"M-Mayfly! S-Sensitive!" Vash whined out, trying to take deep breaths and calm himself, a wave of pleasure coursing through his veins as you continued to grind against him.

"I know," you cooed gently, continuing your gentle grinding as you watched Vash's expressions carefully, seeing the pleasure he was getting from your touch.

You reached over and took Vash's wrists in your own, removing his hands from your hips and bringing them up gently against the headboard, next to his head. His eyes widened as he watched you hold him, and another soft whine escaped his lips as he tried to grind against your bare pussy, clearly wanting to feel more of you.

"Not fair... wanna feel you, (Y/N)..." Vash pouted at you, gazing at you as you smiled a bit mischievously at him.

"I asked you to let me take care of you, Vash. This is part of that," You replied softly, stopping your movements altogether and making Vash groan in slight frustration at the lack of friction. "Stay here, just like this. Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, Mayfly," Vash replied, panting softly as he tried to move his hips against you, his entire body aching for just a hint of friction from you.

You giggled as you got off of Vash entirely, teasing him further as you stood up off the bed, making Vash groan even louder, his frustration building as he whined you name, "(Y/NNNNN)!"

You couldn't help but continue to laugh softly as you dug through Vash's bag, looking around for something in particular before letting out a triumphant "Aha!" as you found what you were looking for.

Glancing over at Vash, you grinned softly and said, "Close your eyes, please."

Vash rolled his eyes playfully but conceded, closing his eyes as you made your way back to the bed, getting back into Vash's lap and straddling him once more. Gently, you took the piece of rope you had pulled from Vash's bag and tied Vash's hands to the headboard, being careful to be gentle with him and making him comfortable. When you were done with your work, you smiled softly and sat back in Vash's lap.

"There. Open your eyes, love."

Vash opened his eyes, looking over at his hands to see the ropes now binding him to the bed, and his eyes widened in surprise to see what you'd done.

"M-Mayfly? What is this?"

"You always focus on everybody but yourself. Tonight, I want to focus on just you, Vash. I want to make you feel good, I want to make you feel loved. The way I'm doing that is by ensuring you can't focus on anything but what you're feeling. Okay?"

Your voice was gentle yet firm, your words loving as you explained to the love of your life what you were hoping to do, and you could see the blush on Vash's face darkening as you explained what you wanted to do, his heart fluttering in his chest at your genuine desire to make him feel loved.

With a nod from Vash, you proceeded to gently work his underwear off of him, finally allowing his cock to spring free, already rock hard and throbbing slightly in time to his heartbeat. Globs of precum leaked from the head, dribbling down his shaft just from the few touches you had shared with him, and you felt a spike of desire and confidence go through your body at the sight of just how badly Vash wanted you.

"God, Vash... you're so beautiful," you murmured softly, tracing your hands slowly down Vash's body, taking your time with each and every scar that littered his body.

You knew Vash was sensitive about his scars, about how mutilated and broken his body looked, but to you, he was nothing short of angelic, a being of beauty beyond compare. You loved every tiny piece of him, scars and all, and you wanted to ensure that Vash understood that, that that knowledge was engraved in his soul.

A soft little whine escaped Vash as you traced down his body, your fingertips grazing over his scars with a featherlight touch, and all he could think about was just how badly he wanted to hold you, kiss you, and touch you. Vash found himself tugging against the ropes holding his hands in place, but you giggled softly and leaned in towards him, your lips teasingly a mere few centimeters away from his.

"Ah, ah, ah... no touching, Vash. Tonight's about you," You scolded him playfully.

Vash simply whined, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of pleasure, pleading and frustration, wanting nothing more than to feel you against him, to be able to hold you and touch you to his heart's content. While you weren't fully going to give into his pleading puppy-eyes, you decided that you would allow yourself to rest against him, straddling him once again and now grinding your bare pussy against the sensitive skin of his cock, a soft gasp escaping Vash's lips as he finally felt you against him.

You began to move slowly, biting your lip and letting out soft, muffled moans of pleasure as your soaked folds glided over Vash's cock, his tip nudging your clit with each thrust of your hips. You could feel Vash tensing against you, soft whimpers and pants escaping his lips as he strained against the ropes restraining him once more as you rubbed your pussy against him. The fact that he couldn't hold you as you moved against him and teased him like this was driving him crazy. Vash knew that he could easily break free from the ropes restraining him from you, but instead, he allowed you to continue your thrusts, opting instead to get lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

"B-Beautiful," you moaned against Vash's throat, pressing soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses to his skin as you continued to press your pussy against his cock, rocking back and forth with a bit more pressure, "You're so beautiful, Vash. S-So beautiful, and so good... God..."

Your loving praise mixed with such sensual and intimate touches made Vash shudder in a way you had never felt him before, his head slumping against your shoulder as you felt his whole body tensing, a loud moan escaping him as you felt his cock throbbing against your pussy.

"M-Mayfly, ha-ah! I- I'm gonna-... I'm gonna cum!" Vash cried out, his body trembling slightly against you as he felt his orgasm approaching faster than it had ever done so before.

"Cum for me, my love," you encouraged Vash gently, continuing your gentle praise and bringing your fingers up to his hair, tugging it gently as you pulled him into a passionate kiss, finally giving him a taste of you. "That's it. Cum for me. I love you. Cum for me."

With a soft cry of your name against your lips as he returned your kiss with equal passion and need, you could feel Vash coming undone beneath you. His cum spurted all over your cunt, coating both your folds and his abdomen with his seed as his orgasm washed over him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over him. Vash closed his eyes as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, panting heavily as he struggled to recover from his orgasm.

You continued running your fingers through Vash's hair as he snuggled into you, cooing to him gently as you held him close to you, "Breathe slowly, my love. Deep breaths... that's it. You did amazing. I love you so much."

Vash shivered slightly in your hold, pulling back a bit to look into your eyes, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed from your praise and the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling. As you shifted in Vash's lap, you quickly realized that despite cumming mere moments ago, his cock was still rock hard and throbbing once again, clearly still aching for you.

"(Y-Y/N)..." Vash panted softly, looking up at you with need and slight desperation, his tone and his gaze indicating how much he still wanted and needed you.

You didn't respond, instead leaning down and pressing another softer and gentler kiss against Vash's lips, your hands gliding down his body slowly. As you reached the base of Vash's cock, you sat up a little and guided Vash to the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of your core, sinking down slowly and pushing the tip of Vash's cock into you.

The moment he entered you, a loud whine escaped Vash's lips as a gasp escaped from you, the feeling of him stretching you out and filling you making you see stars as you settled into his lap, allowing him to fully bottom out within you.

"I love you," Vash began to babble softly the moment he felt your pussy clenching down around him, his face burrowing into your neck once again as he pressed desperate kisses against your skin, frantically beginning to thrust up into you in order to feel more of you around him, "I love you so much, (Y/N), you feel so good, please... please... I need you. I want you, (Y/N), please... God, I love you."

"I love you, too, Vash. I love you so much," you moaned softly in return, pressing your palms against Vash's chest to steady yourself as you began to bounce in his lap, driving his cock deeper and deeper into you.

Endless praise spilled forth from your lips as you drove Vash deeper and deeper into you, your pussy tightening around him as he brushed that perfect spot deep inside you with each thrust. Any and all thoughts left your mind except for wanting to make Vash cum over and over again while telling him how good he was, how perfect and how beautiful, how much you loved him and how good he made you feel.

"You're everything t-to me," you gasped out, grinding down on Vash and driving his cock even deeper into you, your cunt milking him and pulling endless whines and moans from his lips as you did so, "You're my world, Vash. My universe. I-I love you, I'll always love you."

The sounds escaping Vash changed suddenly, his whines and moans suddenly becoming soft whimpers and little hiccups, and you could feel his body trembling against you in a way unlike before. As you pulled away to look at him, you realized that Vash was crying in your embrace, crystalline tears coursing down his cheeks as he looked up at you, his bottom lip quivering as he tried not to sob openly.

"Vash..." you whispered softly, slowing your movements and bringing your hands up to cup his face gently, brushing away his tears, your heart aching at the sight of his tears. "Shh... it's alright."

Vash wasn't entirely sure why he was crying - you were in the middle of making him feel amazing, and yet, as he heard your words, words of love and tenderness and devotion, he suddenly felt overwhelmed by it all. How did somebody whose hands were as stained with blood as his end up with somebody as incredible, kind and pure as you? How did your heart belong to somebody like him? Thoughts swirled endlessly through his mind, his emotions overwhelming him as you sat in his lap, holding him close and caressing his face gently.

"Look at me, love."

Your voice was gentle yet insistent, tilting his face up so Vash could look you in the eyes. You pressed gentle kisses all over his face, untying Vash's hands from the headboard and allowing him to finally wrap his arms around you tightly, clutching onto you tightly as he buried his face into your bare chest, soft sobs escaping him as he held you close.

"I l-love you s-so much," Vash whimpered softly against your skin, holding you as close to him as he possibly could as his emotions overwhelmed him. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)... I-I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, my love," you replied immediately, kissing his face gently, "You're allowed to feel overwhelmed. It's okay. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Another soft sob escaped Vash's lips, but instead of burying his face into you, he tilted his face up and pressed his lips to yours in a passionate, emotional and surprisingly tender kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you against him. This kiss was Vash's way of showing you just how much he needed you, how much you meant to him, how much he loved you and never wanted to be parted from you for as long as he lived. Vash's heart ached for you, wanting nothing but to spend the rest of his life by your side, loving you, making love to you, protecting you and being happy with you, if only the universe would allow it.

A sudden upward thrust from Vash in the middle of your tender moment made you gasp against his lips, the feeling of the tip of his cock brushing against that perfect, gummy spot inside of you making your whole body shudder in his grasp. His movements were slow and deliberate, ensuring both of you could feel him thrusting every inch into you as he kissed you and held you close. Both of you moaned and whined against each other's lips, and you began to grind your hips against Vash's in time with his thrusts, somehow driving him even deeper than before.

"L-Love you," Vash borderline sobbed against your throat, "I lo-love you, Mayfly. Love you so m-much, (Y/N)."

You felt your orgasm beginning to build as Vash continued his thrusts, and you matched his tender and loving movements, trying to focus on him rather than on the pleasure you were feeling. You decided then and there that you would forfeit your pleasure in favour of ensuring Vash was looked after rather than him looking after you. You reached down and pressed down on Vash's hips, silently asking him to stop his thrusts as you continued your own movements, wanting to make him feel good.

"I love you," you gasped out softly in reply, grinding and bouncing slowly and more intentionally in Vash's lap, plunging his cock deeper and deeper into you and pulling the most beautiful sounds from him. "I love you more than anything. I'll always love you, Vash. Always. You're mine and I'm yours."

A strangled sound, half a sob and half a whine, escaped Vash's throat suddenly as he clutched onto you, pulling you down hard into his lap and holding you flush against him with incredible strength as he buried himself inside you completely, "(Y-Y/N)!"

With the cry of your name, you felt Vash spill himself inside you, his cock throbbing as his seed coated your walls in white and spilled out of you as he filled you more than he ever had before, the sticky substance pooling on Vash's thighs. His whole body was shaking against you as he came down from his orgasm, his heart pounding as he tried to calm himself down and recover from it all.

"It's okay, love," you whispered gently, embracing Vash and holding him against you tightly, letting his head rest against your chest as your orgasm slipped away from you, your pleasure disappearing. "I love you, it's okay, Vash. Breathe. I've got you."

Vash's breathing slowed gradually, his eyes sliding shut as he rested against you for a moment until his body suddenly stiffened and he sat up, his eyes wide and filled with concern as he looked at you in alarm.

"(Y/N), wait... wh-what about you?! You didn't-!"

"And I'm not going to," you cut Vash off gently yet firmly, "I'm not interested in my own orgasm right now, Vash. I just want to focus on you, love. Not me. I told you that from the beginning, didn't I?"

"But this isn't fair! You've made me cum twice, a-and... I've done nothing for you in return!" Vash exclaimed, his expression borderline upset as he took your face in his hands, looking at you worriedly.

You couldn't help but laugh at how endearing Vash was, and you kissed the palms of his hands before placing your hands overtop of his on your cheeks, intertwining your fingers with his.

"It's not a big deal, Vash," you laughed softly, gazing at him with tenderness and love.

"It is to me!" Vash exclaimed immediately, frowning and pouting as he tugged you closer to him.

"How about this, then? Let me take care of you for a little while longer, and then, afterwards, if you still want to, you can do what you'd like to make me feel good. Deal?" You offered, cocking your head to the side as you gazed at the love of your life.

"Deal."

Vash didn't hesitate to take you up on your offer before leaning in and kissing you again, this kiss gentle, loving and sweet rather than lustful and passionate. His embrace was strong, yet gentle, and as Vash held you close, he felt an overwhelming sense of true peace for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. In loving him and cherishing him as you had, not just tonight but every day before this, you had shown Vash what he meant to you. You had shown him just how much you loved him and believed in him, and it made his heart swell and break simultaneously.

"I don't know how somebody like me could ever deserve somebody as precious as you."

Vash's words made your heart ache in your chest, and you shook your head resolutely as you pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and taking a deep, slow breath before answering, "You deserve so much more than just me, Vash. You deserve the world."

"You are my world, (Y/N). You always have been and always will be, for as long as I live."

You couldn't help but kiss Vash once again, wanting nothing but to spend the rest of your life burrowed in his embrace, but you pulled away so you could clean both yourself and him off and continue taking care of him.

"Come on, my love. I'll run you a bath and you can soak your muscles. You've worked hard, you need to rest," you offered gently, standing from the bed and heading to the bathroom to do as you suggested.

Vash sighed happily as he slumped back against the headboard and watched you walk to the bathroom, a blush on his cheeks and a goofy little smile on his face. His heart was still awash with a flurry of emotions and residual pleasure, but the most prominent thing he felt in that moment was overwhelming love for you as he let out a quiet whisper that nobody but he could hear.

"Gods, how I love you, Mayfly. I will spend a thousand lifetimes trying to deserve you."

#anya's athenaeum #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #vash the stampede #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede smut #vash tristamp #trigun stampede smut #trigun smut #vash x you #vash smut #vash trigun

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biceratops7 · 17 days

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Not to rot everyone's swiss cheese brains further,

but Aziraphale was throwing that ball for Crowley. No seriously, he was throwing that ball for Crowley.

We all got so distracted by the cheeky little "Wait and See" that we never stopped to think about what it actually means. Cause at first glance it makes no damn sense. "Wait and see" ...for what? The big ridiculous Jane Austen ball Crowley already knows is happening?

Look at the way he ushers Crowley away here. Why?? Wouldn't it make more sense if Crowley was included in the planning of this event he's fully aware of and is the result of a fuck up he's exactly half responsible for?

The reason is simple, it's because the chance to try and do something romantic for once just fell into Aziraphale's lap. At some point very early on he realized that this damn ball can finally... finally be the precisely right time, and precisely right place. And above all, safe. An "independent embassy", as he so proudly states later on. 6,000 years of hiding what's clearly a blossoming relationship under the threat of harm to both of you takes a massive toll. He doesn't really get to bridge that gap whenever he's ready. After all they've been through and how many times they almost lost each other, Aziraphale wouldn't dare do something like this without a plausible excuse. He won't put Crowley in danger, even if its to show he loves him.

So then that leaves Aziraphale with very little options, but he's doing all he can to make the best of the rare opportunities they do have. Some celebratory wine, a fond glance over some candle light (pfft, for the war effort, of course! As an angel it's his duty to set a good example on how to conduct one's self in a blitz, Obviously), etc. He doesn't just have the spur of the moment plan to invite Crowley to dance (which is what Crowley was "smelling" btw), It's about giving him this whole experience that on any other day, Aziraphale never gets to give him. He wants to make Crowley feel special, to have him walk into this beautiful, romantic place that he's never seen before and be invited to dance, to have a simple, fun time.

Unfortunately that doesn't happen, even before things go south. Crowley's way too anxious to even notice any of this. But Aziraphale doesn't let this phase him, he's waited too long and is just unshakably excited to participate in such a human expression of affection. He truly believes the shop is safe, so he patiently soothes Crowley's anxieties while firmly not letting him miss out on this romantic evening he planned.

In other words, Aziraphale has picked up the pace. He's gonna shoot his damn shot and he's gonna do it properly.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #meta #analysis #season 2 #2x05 #aziracrow #the ball

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fillinforlater · 8 months

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Paradise

Male Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 4646 words

Tags: non-smut, story heavy drama, angsty, best friends, young love, looking for paradise

TW: to avoid spoilers, assume all trigger warning apply (I promise nothing sexual!)

Inspiration: "Paradise" by Coldplay (I love that song. Others have inspired me as well e.g. "Clocks" but this is THE one).

(A/N: Happy Anniversary to me <3 fricking 2 years since y'all had to read my first fic. Thanks for all the support! Enjoy this fic that means a lot to me. @firagaarmor, this ones for you too!)

“Can you tell me what paradise is?”

You raise your eyes over the sharp edge of your book, your mind still lost in the adventures of a young sailor, trying to make a name for himself and fighting with the deadly, dark blue sea and the temptation of strong liquor. He’s a brave man, firmly gripping the loose end of a rope to hold the sail steady while a thunderstorm makes his life seem defenseless, fragile, miniscule. The book is too tense, too captivating to stop now!

But then you continue to look past all the letters on old, yellowed paper, straight to her face. Feel her strong gaze grab you and freeze you in place with nothing but softness and innocence. Suddenly, the meaning these words had on you evaporates; the capturing story is nothing but a hallucination you experience while staring at them. You are not hallucinating now. She is here, she is real—and she is absolutely gorgeous.

“Paradise?” you sum up her question in a rather uncertain whisper, Gaeul nods nonetheless.

“Yes!” her eyes beam with thrill and she closes the gap between you and her on the couch. Usually, the two of you leave some space on the worn-out, white sofa, with you reading in one corner and Gaeul resting in the other. It’s rare for her to be this close; it makes you trip up and drop the book on your chest. “Tell me all about it.”

“Well it’s… simple, yet also very complex, you know?” You scratch the back of your head and avoid her face. Straight brown hair frames her soft features, puts a stark contrast between dark beauty and pale beauty, while every nook and cranny on it is just flawlessly carved—you’re red now.

“You need to tell me everything!” Gaeul insists.

“F-fine. Paradise is the place that we go to after we die. We of course don’t know if it’s real or not or if we have to do something or believe something to get in it. Maybe it’s guarded by angels, gods or titans! Maybe it’s just something we tell ourselves to feel better about what death might be: just nothingness. Sometimes people imagine heaven to be this overwhelmingly marvelous forest, where everything is in harmony. Sometimes they see it as a golden gate with everything perfect and beautiful behind it. Sometimes people just call some place on earth paradise.”

“Why?” Gaeul asks, her ears twitching but not really twitching. She is just excited to listen to you, probably. “Where is this place?”

“Well, uhm,” you mutter and scratch harder. Surely you’ll find an answer that will satisfy her. “I think you need to find this place yourself. Like I said, everyone thinks paradise is something different.”

Gaeul nods with the eagerness and naivety of a child. She still possesses this deeply rooted innocence, this greed for knowledge and finding new things. All these years of school could not squeeze it out of her, no belittling, no bullying, nothing can break her spirit. You adore her for it, you envy her for it.

“Paradise,” she says and returns to her original position. “Paradise, paradise.”

She smiles.

“I want to see it with you.”

Gaeul and you are stuck to each other like glue. God put this glue on you from the very beginning. Gaeul was born seventeen days after you, in the same hospital, and grew up in the same street, in the same town as you. You’d always meet her at the playground and from wordlessly playing with her in the sand to fighting and hating her, you felt every emotion towards her every day for all those long kindergarten days.

In school, it was more or less the same. Other people were always interesting for Gaeul, but she kept them at a distance, unlike you, who she never ignored or turned down. You were a bit more difficult back then, frankly, the teasing from the other boys about her was annoying, but you got over it the day you found out she liked the same songs.

“Seventeen?” she chirped when you mentioned their debut track. “You like Seventeen?”

“Well, yes. This song sounds very… nice,” you whispered, phone in hand, eyes on the pavement.

“Do you know all their names?”

“Ha, no way! There is like so many of them.”

Gaeul grins and grabs your hand. Triumphantly, she announces: “I know all of them, all thirteen! I guess I’m smarter than you!”

“Pah, I-I was born seventeen days before you. I’m older and I’m smarter!”

“No~”

The bickering made you bond, while the fantastic songs of Seventeen drowned out all foreign criticism. You found more and more things to like and dislike about each other, which made every day spent together worth it. Be it playing games together, preparing food (let’s be honest, you mostly just tried mixing random ingredients and had her mom save it in the end) or just chilling on the couch—it never got boring.

It was about a year ago when you noticed that she had these long phases where she just did nothing. Her small body was positioned on the couch, always the same way on the same spot, and then she would look into nothingness. You wanted to tease her for it, for being a daydreamer, someone who spaces out and drools while doing it, yet you stopped.

She is so pretty.

You admired her. There was no drool, no dumb, mindless dreaminess in her eyes. She was in her own world, thinking of something so incredible, it made her beam with life. Her eyes were like orbs, set ablaze by golden light. Movies could never get her attention and admiration for this long—movies could never get your attention and admiration for this long. You were the one staring, you were the one drooling over how everything about her is just so flawless—you still do.

This was the day you noticed you liked her.

Seventeen days later came the day she asked about paradise.

That was the day she stole your heart.

…

Today is the day a cruel devil came to smash it into pieces.

Being friends with Gaeul for almost twenty years, it is only natural that her parents would inform you as soon as possible. You dropped your phone as the words left the speaker, it’s smashing on the floor goes unnoticed by you. Seconds later, you’re already on the street, on the run, straight to her parents’ house. You didn’t need to ring, her father wordlessly held the door open and pointed to her room.

She sits on her bed, her lower body tugged in a blanket, her back against the wall, her eyes… shut. You look at her mother, a mess of tears and snot; it’s not yet on her face but the moment she looks at you it, the dams break. Her knees unstable, she walks out of the room into her husband's arms.

“Gaeul, I—”

You look at her again. Her eyes are open, focused on the opposing wall, the sparkle of life, wonder, joy still strong, but it’s slowly getting drowned in this puddle of tears that glisten in them, a stain on her that you can’t bear to see. So you kneel down, reach for her hand and watch her leave whatever world she tried to escape into.

“Gaeul, I-I’m sorry,” you stammer out, your hands the ones shivering more, though you’d love to think that you’re strong and she is the one folding.

“It’s not your fault, dumbo,” she semi-laughs, semi-sighs. Then she rasps: “Nothing you can do about it.”

“I-I know… and I hate it.”

Silence. You look at her chest, slowly heaving up and down in a rhythmic cycle, gently increasing when you squeeze her hand and she looks down on it. Gaeul cracks a small smile, a smile so full of pain, every second you look at it is sending daggers to your chest.

Rage is building up inside you. Feel it creep up every limb, every toe, every finger, up to your head where you imagine the cruelest things you could do to the devil or deity who let this happen, no, who made this happen. They are a devil, and you will go down into the depths of hell to make them suffer for eternity.

How could they do this to her? What did she do? She doesn’t deserve this!

And you don’t deserve this either. What did you do, to see pain and horror like this? What did you do to hold a warm hand soon to be cold? What did you do, to see the love of your life become nothing but ash and dust, buried somewhere in the ground, forgotten in two generations, a life too short, too cruel to even call it that?

I’ll—

“Do you remember,” Gaeul suddenly asks, her voice soft and calming, like the wonderful, nostalgic wife you never had, you never will have. “The day I asked you about paradise?”

“Of course I do!” you blurt out, voice a bit hoarse. You could never forget the day you fell in love with her.

“You said that people can find paradise here on earth,” Gaeul starts. “I know I should probably go look for it myself but… can you go with me and show me paradise?”

The tears she held back in her eyes must have found their way to yours. Your vision is all blurry, your voice barely registers, but you are certain she hears you and knows what you're saying. You would never let her down, and in this moment, no feeling could be stronger.

“Of course, Gaeul. A-anything for you.”

You have only heard of cancer from these dramatic movies that people watch and then cry. Maybe somewhere in the news or a documentary, but then it was usually older people, not young and youthful spirits—those who don't think that a tragedy is right around the corner, waiting to rip apart their bodies, souls but first of all, their dreams.

Gaeul’s condition got worse rapidly. For the first two weeks, Gaeul’s mom would call you every other night because something seemed to be up. She was throwing up, had a high fever, the doctor was late, she didn’t respond—some of them were clearly only in the head of Gaeul’s mother who started to smoke again, the butts of cigarettes soon littering the tiled kitchen floor.

You’re not at all better though. Every time the phone rang, you ran over to her; throughout all other seconds of the day, you were frozen in place. Like a puppet, you sat on your bed, blankly staring at the wall and into nothing. Your body is perfectly fine, nothing hurts or is out of place yet everything feels agonizing in its meaninglessness.

You can’t even light up this tiny, simmering flame you always see in Gaeul’s eyes when you enter her room. It has not faded, no tears, no vomit, no painful breaths, nothing has put it out. It’s remarkable, beautiful, it’s the only thing that rids you of your agony for a moment.

When she was just a girl, Gaeul expected the world to tell her everything, to the minutest of details to the broadest of concepts. She sucked it all up like a sponge and let the mechanisms in her small, pretty head work with it for hours. Now it’s about to fly away from her reach in a cruel race where the world might only be jogging, but Gaeul legs are literally withering away under her tiny weight.

Yet you see the dreams in her eyes. She will not relent until she has—

Paradise.

Not even past the door frame, you drop the backpack to the ground. Gaeul jumps a bit and smiles at you in confusion. Your expression must be bewildering, funny, but she has no idea with what conviction your heart is finally urging your stupid brain to get going.

“Hey, what’s up? You alright?” she asks.

“Gaeul.” You reach for her hand, down on your knees to be level with the small, bedridden girl. “I’m going to look for it.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“I will look for it and find it! A-and then, I’m going to take you there, I promise!”

Gaeul looks at you funny, her free hand pushing away your torso in a playful gesture. A coughing fit interrupts her initial chuckle. “You’re playing around, talking weird stuff. But it’s funny.”

“No, I mean it—

“Paradise, Gaeul, I’m going to look for it—and I will find it for you.”

“Really?”

Really?

Early in the morning, the sky is still more dark, navy blue than anything else, you stuff whatever you might need into your backpack. Long forgotten and unnecessary are those school books and pens; you’ve not lost a thought about that in weeks. Frantically, you replace them with snacks, some water bottles, a map, a book, a phone, a towel, a shovel and a pocket knife. No dehydration, no getting lost, no boredom will prevent you from undertaking a journey to—

Where to, you wonder. The compass on your phone points in directions, probably the right ones, but it’s meaningless, useless. The correct route to paradise has to come from your heart. Your heart has already embedded its needle in the magnetic field that is Gaeul, now all you need to do is feel in which direction it points.

On the calm streets of this town you walk, along pretty houses which were always the start to all of yours and Gaeul’s games and adventures. It never ended here however. The two of you were always drawn to what's beyond the tarmac, the stones, the plastic. It all changes, quickly blurs to a mix of brown and green, every color in between, on this spectrum. On the soft soil of the forest underneath your feet, mixed with crunchy leaves and crunchier twigs, your adventure continues.

You might be closer, but this is definitely not yet paradise. Beautiful, but you can find it elsewhere equally as beautiful. Without second thoughts, you march on, deeper into the woods towards the pull. Gaeul’s magnetic field has this tendency to swirl off the main road. Suddenly, you find yourself in between thick bushes and young trees that make walking through them quite challenging.

Some plants wrap themselves around you like vines trying to hold you back. Slash them with the knife, bite into an apple and don’t stop for nothing. Soon, you find parts of the forest completely unbeknownst to you. The green looks darker, sunlight is a bit sparse and more animals run through your field of view. Bird, mice, dear, they all seem to look at you and when you hush and look back, it’s—

Peaceful. A piece of heaven, of paradise?

Though this spot may fill you with wonder and calm your heart, it's not yet paradise. It's all fleeting; the animals jump at your first motion, all it takes is a single cloud blocking the sun and its soft, faint rays are gone as well. You have to move onwards, past the mushrooms and moss, the deepest you have ever been in this forest.

Thousands of steps later, the dryness in your throat and the hole in your stomach force you to take a break. In midst all the tall, blooming trees you find a patch of grass, a glade, untouched by man. A perfect resting spot for the wild life, unbothered, untouched beauty. You feel a bit out of place, but you won't deny that it's a privilege to just sit down and take a breather.

You quickly down sandwiches and the water, realizing that both are not enough to quench your hunger and thirst. The sun is barely visible from here—how long has your adventure lasted until now? At some point you need to turn around, find your way back; thank God for phones and Google Maps, otherwise you'd be lost forever.

Amongst all of nature's sounds, you suddenly hear the splattering of water, probably in a small creek nearby. You grab your things and move closer to the source. The splattering gets louder and louder, oh, what you would give for the water to be clean and drinkable.

Uneven terrain and bushes block your way, but you can see the sun bursting through small gaps in between branches. You find an angle, with less thorns and stinging nettles and cut your way through it. Feel your heart throb in excitement, even when nature tries to resist you. There is something behind this, and now you are free to—

Close your eyes, because this cannot be real.

A picture before you, beautiful drawn, everything perfectly decorated, yet it cannot explain the stunningness of the sight before you. A wide open cliff gives you a perfect view of the entire forest and the lake in its middle. To your left, the outskirts of the city, only a couple of streets with both a school and hospital in sight. To your right a miniscule waterfall, fueled by the aforementioned creek. Everything is overstimulating, yet absolutely coherent in both its vibrantness and peacefulness.

Best of all, above a small rock overhang along this cliff, a pair of butterflies seem to happily dance around each other, blissfully unaware of the steep fall below them. No, they just love each other. Both swing their colorful wings to their own rhythm, not caring if someone sees, not allowing anyone to disturb them.

You carefully step towards their overhang, take a look down and see that it might be a dangerous fall, but you don’t feel any danger in this place. It is cozy, relaxing and quiet. There is nothing to fear, not even boredom. There is unlimited adventure and excitement amongst these gigantic trees, they embrace you with their twigs and tuck you in with their leaves. You can stay here for eternity, in fact you almost want to.

But not without Gaeul.

“I think I found it,” you’ll tell her. “I think I found paradise.”

“Gaeul is in the hospital.”

Your mothers first words when you return from your trip. The strain on your muscles, your back, your hands; they fade into the background the moment you realize what might be happening.

“What, why?”

“Her health has been… rapidly declining the last two days,” your mother says and urges you to sit down. You do not. “At some point, I could hear her scream from across the street, she… she has to be in so much pain.”

“A-and then?” You can barely stand standing around and not being by her side.

“They came like two hours ago, took her to the lake-side hospital. Her mother is—”

“I’m going there,” you say, drop your backpack and turn on your heels. Your mother sighs, deeper than ever. There is tears and misery in her eyes.

“I… don’t want you to go. You shouldn’t see this.”

“Mum, I will go. Why would you stop me? I need to be there; I can’t leave her now!”

Your mother stands up. You watch her reach for a cup of tea and drink the entire thing. Maybe it wasn’t tea. Maybe she needed some strength right now. This strong woman has never looked so vulnerable to you. She reaches for your hand.

“Okay… I’ll drive you.”

“You came,” Gaeul whispers, her voice hoarse, her eyes puffy, her skin pale. Well, she has always been quite the pale girl, but now her skin is rivaling snow in terms of whiteness. You push away a doctor and a relative or two and reach for one of Gaeul’s fragile hands.

“Of course I did. I’m never not there.” You smile.

“There you go, saying silly things again.” Gaeul smiles.

This is where you lose yourself in her eyes, those deep brown marbles, like bitter yet sweet chocolate—fitting to the overall mood in this hospital room. While you continue to stare into Gaeul’s dreams, the people around you go through all those stages of grief in front of the doctors, their powerless deities. Denial in her fathers voice, anger in the way her mother grabs her brother, they are bargaining, well onto their way into depression.

But Gaeul is still right there. She is still breathing. She is still breathing, even after they all leave the room. You stay by her side, long after midnight and most of the time, you just listen to her breath. Weak and shallow, but enough to keep her going. Then it starts to rain.

“Did we play in the rain back then?” you ask, looking out through the window into the dark clouds and the impending torrential downpour.

“Once or twice for sure,” Gaeul responds. You feel her eyes in your neck. “We should have done it more often.”

“Yeah, but only when the rain is warm.” Caress her knuckles. Gaeul sighs.

“Then I could have seen paradise in the rain.”

Feel a rush of excitement run down your spine when you turn to her.

“Gaeul, I think I found it. I found paradise! It’s not far from here. Let’s go there tomorrow or the day after—”

“Y-you did?” Gaeul suddenly squeezes your wrist tightly. “Where is it?”

“Near the lake, secluded in the forest. It’s beautiful—I’ll show it to you.”

“C-can we go now… please?”

Your eyes widen, your breath quickens. Someone has a belt wrapped around your chest and gradually tightens it. It’s as if there is poison in the air draining your life. This can’t get to you—no, it cannot be true. All the dreadful thoughts, you push them to the side, though they sink into your heart like the pointiest of knives. In your turmoil, you forget to answer.

Gaeul props herself up and stretches her arms out.

“Take me there, please.

“I want to see it tonight.”

No matter how much your heart bleeds, you find a way to work. For your best friend, the childhood love, the—current love. You easily pick up the thin girl and she finds the strength to secure herself on your back. She is light and heartbreakingly weak. Everything falls on you now.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” you hiss when you piggyback carry the girl out of the room and quietly sneak her out through the fire exit. “But I’ll try my best to be your hero, Gaeul.”

“Don’t be some hero from your book,” Gaeul whispers, her lips right on your earlobe. “Just be you, that’s cool enough already.”

The rain is worse than you expected. Thick droplets a plenty make all colors of the quite illuminated town blurr. You just know you have to run away from them, towards the forest. There the roof of leaves will protect you from getting more soaked—which is not possible. After only a hundred meters, both you and Gaeul are two human sponges, drenched in heavenly water.

“It’s warmer than I thought,” Gaeul croaks as you sprint down the final street where the trees finally start. “Let’s play in this rain.”

“S-sure,” you grunt through gritted teeth, your exhausted legs barely keeping you upright. At the first tree, you take a breather. “But let’s get to paradise first.”

“How long is it?”

“About a kilometer. Can you hold my phone?”

Gaeul grabs it, the faint light showing a messy hill with a hundred reasons to doubt that you can carry her up there. Worriedly, Gaeul clings onto you stronger than before.

“Isn’t this too steep?”

You smile and adjust Gaeul, the friend on your back and take away all of her doubts by marching onwards, into the mud. Soon your legs are all covered in the heavy mixture of dirt, leaves, twigs, a couple of bugs, some plastic—it’s almost impossible to lift your legs over the taller roots breaching through the ground.

“Sorry that you have to carry me,” Gaeul murmurs, her face sunken into your back. The wind whips above the trees, their tips shake and you get showered in pine needles. You pause for a second, then laugh.

“Look at this mess! Mother nature is really playing with us tonight.”

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t—”

You pull a couple of needles out of Gaeul’s short, muddy, messy hair. In the faint light of your phones’ lamp. She looks like a ghost with barely lit eyes. God, it hurts to see her like this… but you will never deny that she isn’t drop dead gorgeous. The flame in her eyes hasn’t faded yet either. No matter how much fucking water the clouds above you pour down, they burn and they burn into your heart.

“Gaeul,” you say with confidence and unbridled determination as you take the first step on your final surge up to paradise. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sad. We are almost there. Hold onto my shoulders and you’ll be fine.”

Gaeul quietly sniffles into your thoroughly wet t-shirt, only a few tears, yet each of them is like a waterfall and adds to the weight of the most water you have ever seen in your life. Not even the oceans can compare to whatever mother nature has decided to unleash onto this area. If this is what it takes to get Gaeul to heaven, you will swim through it.

Again and again, until the end of time. And then you’ll still do it.

A bush brushing over your bodies, its evil thornes piercing your skin. You don’t feel it. Your hand shelters Gaeul, before pushing away the final branches of a familiar oak tree. There it is. Your heart skips a beat. You sink to your knees.

“Hey! Hey, are you okay?” Gaeul shouts, then she looks ahead. In this exact moment, a miracle: a lightning bolt in the distance, bright and wide, hits a far away field. Everything is illuminated, the ridiculous beauty of paradise visible in the middle of the night—for your best friend to see.

“What do you think?” you ask, out of breath and smiling brightly, brighter than the lightning. Gaeul has gotten off of your back and her weak legs carry her towards the overhang. The visual is impeccable, epic on so many levels, it’s like the grand finale to the universe:

Gaeul, the love of your life, looking at her paradise. It should be impossible, but she stands there. What might her face look like right now? You don’t need to see it to know.

Suddenly, she turns back around and sinks down on the floor. You try to catch her. A second to late, all you can do is prop her back up, shake the collar of her hospital gown. Her eyes are barely open, her lips tremble. You hug her tightly, not caring about the mud below you.

“Gaeul… no!”

Lying underneath the stormy skies, the only thing holding her in this world are your arms underneath her. Gaeul stretches out her pointer towards the horizon.

“I know the sun will rise.”

Her voice is but a whisper in the downpour, quieter than even the waterfall of tears running down your face—but it’s powerful enough to pull a single, all illuminating beam of sunlight from the edge of the world. In a final, painful but infinitely freeing breath, Gaeul says it all:

“This could be… you could be… no—

“You are my paradise.”

“Gaeul, I love you!”

As if to say ‘I love you too’, she puts her cold lips on yours a final time and flies away, forever. You hold her forever, kiss her forever, love her forever while the strongest gusts of wind don’t feel like anything. Gaeul is in your arms, looking so alive with her closed eyes and peaceful smile; but it’s all not true.

You decide to fall

faster than the rain drops,

faster than the waterfall

and then meet her;

for she is your paradise.

#kpop angst #kpop fanfiction #ive angst #gaeul angst #ive gaeul angst #gaeul fanfiction #kim gaeul

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ladyelissarose · 1 year

Text

‘You Came!!’

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x female aviator reader - callsign: Hawkeye

Summary: Hangman is given a backseater to improve his teamwork skills, he belittled it all including her, thinking that it would be pointless and ridiculous, learning how to seriously depend and care for someone. But that change the minute she couldn’t eject.

Warnings: mentions of angst, thoughts of dying, mentions of vomiting, mean Jake, a jet accident, panicking, fluff in the end.

Two months had passed when Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin had gotten a backseater, named Y/n Y/l/n; callsign Hawkeye. Cyclone and Maverick believed that it would do him good, help him learn how to work with others and cooperate during team work. And even though everyone thought that it would help him, it only made him meaner, but towards Hawkeye. He belittled her capability, and talent in flying. He was hard on her when they messed up in training and blamed her half the time. (The other times Rooster would step in and make Jake pay for his responsible actions.) Hawkeye everyday tried to prove herself better, which she would, soon she was one of the best backseaters, (After Bob Floyd). But in Jake’s eyes she wasn’t good enough, he always found something to call her out on. And Hawkeye took his every criticizing word like a pro, never making the same mistake again. Y/n’s competition was Jake, and she always wanted to be like him, the absolute best, and Jake saw that, and refused to let her get there. Through all the mistreatment and unnecessary criticism, it was unknown to all that deep down he really liked her, which is why he pushed her away, he was afraid to engage into something that he felt he wasn’t ready for. Y/n had a beautiful heart and a great, tough personality. After he scold her hard she never cried but squared her shoulders and firmly promised that she’d never do it again. When Jake thought he had pissed her off, Y/n would prove him wrong when she’d show up with his helmet showing him that it was sparkly clean, or with a cold soda can of his favorite beverage after a long day. While Jake tried to make Y/n see that she wasn’t good enough for him, she showed him everyday that she was all he needed, and every time Jake saw and realized it more and more, which scared him and annoyed him.

On their third month of working together, they both were sent on a risky mission. Rooster and Phoenix with Bob were sent with them too. Things had went absolutely well and they even finished their mission on time with no slip ups, until Jake and Y/n were hit with a bad bird strike on their way home. Loud ringing sounds filled the cockpit along with Hawkeyes cries as they started going down,

“HANGMAN WE LOST BOTH ENGINES WE’RE GOING DOWN!!”

Hangman tried to restart the whole system and use the backups, but it only got worse when it went to flames as well. He shouted back to Hawkeye to try and fix it or find a solution when he couldn’t find one,

“Try from back there and see if we can save it!!-“

“We can’t it’s going down Hangman!! We lost the backups too!!!”

Huffing loudly Hangman screamed,

“THIS IS MY JET HAWKEYE! WE WILL SAVE IT!!-“

Slamming her fist onto the buttons that flashed red all over she argued,

“Your jet is screwed over Hangman!! We have to eject!!”

‘ALTITUDE! ALTITUDE!!’

Jake looked at his altitude scale and saw how they were dropping fast, beginning to spin out dangerously. Though he was angered with the situation and with Hawkeye, he came to the realization that they had to eject. Tightening on his seatbelt and vest, he shouted to Hawkeye,

“Alright we have to eject we’re dropping altitude fast!!

Happy to hear that he finally complied, Hawkeye shouted back with a panicked tone,

“Great! Let’s do this!!”

After getting the confirmation he needed, Hangman made his next move as he pressed the button to open the cockpit, and pulled on the strings to fully eject.

In mere seconds he was sent out of the jet, barely catching Hawkeye’s terrifying screams,

“HANGMAN WAIT! I CAN’T EJECT!! IT DOESN’T WORK!!!”

A dart of fear pierced Jake’s heart when his mind registered her words, but before he could say anything, the whole jet exploded in mid air, making him cry out,

“NOOOO HAWKEYE!!!”

His heart beat loud in his ears and the blood had run cold to his feet, his parachute began to drop altitude, and everywhere he looked, frantically, trying to see if he could find Hawkeye in a parachute anywhere, but he came back negative. His mind hadn’t stopped working as he began to utterly hate himself for not ejecting earlier when she had told him to.

‘I killed Hawkeye... this is my fault. I should’ve ejected with much more time left to spare. Instead as always I pushed her to her biggest limit, and this time... she couldn’t surpass it. I just killed Hawkeye... and it’s my fault.’

All Hangman wanted to do was scream until he couldn’t breathe, or find a way to turn back time so he could of made sure that Hawkeye’s ejection worked. But the cottonmouth he felt kept him from screaming, and the reality of having no time travel machines made Hangman sink into his guilt more and more. Down below was a forest of tall green trees, and miles and miles of thick snow. Hangman was able to gear his parachute onto land that was clear of trees so he wouldn’t crash into them. A rough landing he had, from thinking to much about Hawkeye he didn’t focus on how he landed, hence straining his ankle painfully. With a loud groan of excruciating pain Hangman stood to his feet right away, not wanting to spare another second without searching for Hawkeye, no matter how he found her. He believed he had to be the first to see the consequences of his ignorant actions. Up ahead he saw the smoke from the ground rise and form a black cloud in the sky, the pieces that fell from the exploded jet had taken their landing too. Jake moved as much as he could through the thick snow that went above his ankles. The pain he felt only got worse as he took one step after another, screaming for him to stop, but his mind was determined to ignore it and move on. Jake knew that where the smoke was, that’s where Hawkeye would probably be, in the midst of it all. Probably burned up and long gone, the thought of it only made the anxiety of it claw at him and terrify him more. The whirling sounds of the wind sent chills up his spine, it sounded like a cry, a wailing cry of loss. The freezing air burned his skin and touched his aching bones. Once he dreadfully arrived at the scene, he then took a run to approach it faster, seeing how the fire had already died down. Climbing onto what was left of the wing, Hangman reached the cockpit and looked inside, to only see that it was empty, the seat was still there, and so were it’s buckles and latches, but it was empty. Utterly confused as to why it was empty, Hangman slammed his fist onto the broken cockpit window and sunk onto the wing of the jet and began to sob,

‘What if she flew out? And her body is laying around here lifeless? What if her death was so so painful and scary? Oh my God I’ll never forgive myself it wasn’t her fault... but what if she’s still alive, maybe on her last breaths of air.. Gosh I have to find her!’

Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, Hangman leaned his palms on the side of the jet so he could stand up without falling, also trying to get most of the weight off his ankle. Looking around from where he stood in the wing, Hangman saw absolutely no sign of Hawkeye. After sliding off the wing Hangman than began to walk away towards any direction his feet took him, his mind wasn’t thinking straight anymore, it only thought about two things; Hawkeye and her possible death. Swallowing the stone that was in his throat from the pain he felt inside and out, Hangman shouted from the bottom of his heart,

“HAWKEYE!?!!”

Looking all around the snowy ground and the tall evergreens that stood out like a sore thumb in the midst of Queen Elsa’s snow town, Jake began to feel his heart sink as he didn’t hear any sound of life, besides his panicked breathing, or see any movement other than his feet that trailed off looking and searching frantically. Jake’s mind ran millions of miles per millisecond, trying to reassure his mind and heart that indeed, Hawkeye did make it out of the jet on time, before it exploded on them in mid-air. But what began to convince his mind that she hadn’t, was when he realized that the sky had painted itself a darker shade of color, signaling that night time was crawling around the corner, guaranteeing its nearing, and he still hadn’t found her. It began to grow even colder, the chilly air had already numbed his skin and bones, making them feel incredibly useless but shaky. Even his pointy nose began to turn pink and burn a little on the tip, it burned to close his eyes and blink, the rest of his face felt numb to touch. But that didn’t stop Jake from searching, and calling out with his aching, sore throat,

“HAWKEYE!! CALL O-OUT!!”

Waiting to hear any voice return his plea, Jake had stopped moving in the snow that crunched under his boots, but even then, he was unfortunately met with silence, only the wind flowed and whispered to Mother Nature around him. The beating of his heart was no longer heard in his ears, it was like it had frozen too. It became hard to swallow and to breathe, it was like if he was drowning or suffocating on his own tears he wanted to cry out. Jake felt worse than a failure and was so afraid of the unknown. His emotions swirled all inside of him like a hurricane, and soon it all came out when he sank into the snow onto his knees, and began to heave out whatever was left in his stomach from earlier that day. His ribs grew sore for how hard he was throwing up, but it just kept coming out. Soon he began to cough out the rest of it, and choke on his sobs that wrecked from his chest and broke heart. Through it all he still tried to be positive to keep himself from panicking, but his mind only told him,

‘Did Hawkeye make it out of the cockpit? Did she land safely? Is she even alive? What if she froze?- No no! She’s alive! Hawkeye has to be!! Come on Hangman, don’t live up to your callsign... don’t leave her hanging... we have to find her and bring her home no matter what!!!’

Letting out a shout of frustration and pain from the cold that burned his body from inside out, Hangman stood back onto his feet, and sucked in a deep breath, before screaming out desperately while turning around and cupping his hands over his mouth to make his call louder,

“HAWKEY!!!! CALL OUT!! COME ON WHERE ARE YOU!?”

Warm tears had already fallen down his cheeks and brought a shaky chill through his whole body when the freezing weather hit against them, his red lips trembled along with his perfect, chattering teeth. The confidence Hangman always felt, had faded a long time ago, he only felt dread and regret, and it only grew heavier and heavier. Until he heard a small cracking of a branch from above him, and soon felt a small piece hit his head, making him look up, and find who he was looking for. He let out a small laugh of relief, and let out some more tears, but of joy this time.

Up above hanging on a thick tree branch, was Hawkeye clinging onto her parachute. It had gone caught on one of the thicker branches of the really tall evergreen trees, hence leaving her hanging off of it from quite a high distance. Hangman didn’t spare a second more as he shouted at her while running towards it, ready to climb it or find a way up.

“Hawkeye!! Hawkeye!! It’s Hangman!”

Turns out that Hawkeye had unbuckled in the jet and jumped out with her personal parachute before it could explode. And while going down, her parachute got stuck in the tree. Hawkeye’s voice could barely be heard from her being way high up, sounding a little strained though as she shouted back,

“HANGMAN?! Oh!! Gosh I thought I was hearing things!! But it’s really you!! You came!!! I thought you left me!!”

Jake’s heart felt a little stabbed at her words, but he couldn’t blame her, his actions towards her had proven that she should expect that from him, but he was also glad, that he was here to prove other wise. Grabbing onto the sides of the tree, Hangman shouted back while trying to grab grip of it,

“Oh no! I didn’t leave ya! I’m right here! I’m so sorry for everything- I-I’m going to try and climb up-“

“No no!! What if you shake the tree and-and it moves then I fall off this branch??!”

Jake thought about her words for a few seconds then let out a belly laughter because he knew that it would be impossible to move or even shake such a thick tree stump. It’d take like... it’s just basically impossible, logically it is. Jake then reassured her with a positive tone,

“I promise that this tree won’t move, it’s super thick and.. a million years old, it’s been through hell and back I bet, so I’m sure it can endure me.”

He heard Hawkeye huffed as she put forth sarcastically,

“Hangman no one can endure you... you’re too much. But I hope this tree makes you an exception... cause- well cause I really want to you to come up here and help me.... I think I broke my arm.”

Jake let a gasp escape his mouth as he took in her words,

“Oh! Well then don’t move it, or move at all, I’m coming.”

Jake had already started to measure up the length of the tree while listening to Hawkeye, he knew that when he went up, one branch than the other, he’d have to watch his step and grip very carefully, cause the fall won’t be pretty. He saw that It was quite a high climb, maybe about 30-45 feet high, but Jake knew he could nail it, growing up on a Ranch in Texas had Jake climbing onto whatever he could find, from the tall Barn stables and the trees houses he had built with his cousins.

Grabbing onto the first thick branch, Jake pulled himself up and began to climb up. A few times he had to stop and redirect his hands or feet when the branches didn’t seem to promising, which Hawkeye would see and call out here and there,

“Careful Hangman!” or “Make sure you feet don’t slip off!” “Watch your head!” Each time she called out to him, Jake’s heart would grow in size, feeling warmed by her kindness. Even after everything that had happened and what he put her through, to the point where she was hanging off a tree branch, she still worried about him, selfless and forgiving she was.

He was now a couple of feet away from where she was. Hawkeye was above him as he stood on a very thick branch under her, and he smiled to himself as he saw her face come into view, she had a few scratches on her face from falling into the tree, but her smile took his eyes off of them. Her arm was clutched close to her chest, not sparing a second to move it, not even an inch. Just as he was about to instruct how she was going to get down without falling but landing onto the tree branch he stood on, the branch cracked loudly as it moved slightly,

CRAAACK!

“Hooooly shit please don’t tell me that this branch just moved.”

Jake kept his original words in the back of his throat and instead said,

“Ok I won’t tell you. But listen, I need you to start unbuckling-“

“No no-“

“I promise I won’t let you fall-“

“So you’re going to catch me? Is that what you’re saying? After all this time of you mistreating me you think I’d trust you?”

Jake hates how she was right but he urged anyway,

“Ok ok you’re right! But I’m so sorry I mean it! Sense the beginning I’ve always liked you but I-I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I pushed you away instead.”

Hawkeye gawked at him from where she was hanging, not believing his words for a split second,

“A-Are you serious? Hangman why didn’t you just tell me? We could’ve talked it through, like all the other things we talk through when you yell at me.”

Jake bit his bottom lip and sighed sadly,

“I know... I’ve just never worked with someone like you... and it scared me... your kindness and perfection scares me, makes me feel like I’m undeserving of it, and I only proved it when I treated you so poorly.”

Hawkeye pouted at his confession, she knew there had to be a good reason behind how he badly treated her, she just didn’t know that it would be this reason. And when she saw this tough man with his arm reached out to her with tears in his olive-colored green eyes, her heart instantly believed his every honest word. Just as she was about to reply to him, the tree moved even more and shrieked loudly,

CRAAAAAACK!!!

At hearing Hawkeye’s panicked gasp Jake steadied his feet on the thick branch he stood on, and used one of his strong arms to hold onto the trunk that was next to him, he stretched his free hand towards her as he promised,

“I’ll catch you, just unbuckle and let go.”

CRAAACK’

Hawkeye felt the branch move even more as it cracked even louder, she held onto her buckle and looked down as she worriedly put forth,

“Jake are you sure? Cause if I fall I’ll just go straight down I only have one good arm-“

“I know, that’s why I need you to trust me and just let go.”

Hawkeye took a deep breath then looked down at Jake as she shakily said,

“O-Ok... I’m going to unbuckle this o-on the count of 3-3.”

Jake nodded approvingly as he held his arm up stretching his hand towards her,

“Alright, start counting, the count is on your time, but it needs to be quick, I don’t know how much time we have-“

Hawkeye shook her head nervously as she began to grab on the buckles, trying to undo it,

“I know I know... ok.. 1... -“

CRAAAAAAACK!!-

“SHIT I DON’T THINK YOU HAVE UNTIL 3 HAWKEYE!!”

“JUST WAIT I’M SCARED! F-FUCK IT’S NOT UNBUCKLING!!”

CRAAAACK!!-

Jake knew that it took maybe 3 more seconds and the branch would snap, hence sending Hawkeye to her fall, so he took those 3 seconds left, to quickly move from where he stood, and rush quickly to where Hawkeye hung above him, and pulled on her feet. Her buckle snapped opened and she fell down, but Jake was able to catch her from grabbing tightly onto the vest she wore on her flight suit. But with the momentum of the strength he took to pull her down, and how fast she did fall, Jake kind of slipped off the branch he stood on, but he held Hawkeye against his chest as he fell onto the thick branch with her under him. Both let out loud groans of pain as they heard the thick branch finally snap and fall with the parachute. Jake covered Hawkeye’s head and face with his thick arm so the pieces of the branch wouldn’t fall on her face, he clutched tighter onto her when the felt the falling branch hit the branch they were laying on, but thankfully, nothing more happened or moved. After hearing the it finally hit the ground harshly after crashing down, Jake lifted his head slowly from where he hid it in Hawkeye’s neck, and also lifted his arm from her face, to only see the few tears that had escaped her eyes, along with the growing ones. Her mouth was slightly agape and her lips trembled like if she was holding in a cry, and her nose was pink from the cold. Jake didn’t ask anything, he instead he closed his eyes and pulled her forehead against his as he cooed lovingly,

“You’re ok... we’re ok. I promise.”

A soft sob left Hawkeye’s lips as she let her hand move from his back that she was clinging onto, and held the back of his head, brushing her fingers through his short hair. Jake felt himself shaking from the inside out, he was finally letting the emotions run through him, and honestly, he was very afraid. Hawkeye began to feel and hear his uneven breaths coming out, and she comforted him by simply saying,

“Just breathe with me... like you said... we’re ok. So just breathe.”

Jake nodded slowly, relishing her words that comforted him instantly. He then moved to sit up, and brought her up with him carefully, to where they sat on the branch in front of one another, with their legs dangling on both sides of the branch.

Hawkeye looked up from where she had her eyes locked on Jake’s name patch, and focused her eyes on his green, shining orbs. They both drowned into their gazes, feeling grateful that they had made it out of the situation alive. He then caught himself staring and looked away down at his hands trying not to blush as he said in a breathy tone,

“h-hi..”

Hawkeye snapped out of her thoughts and looked down again as she replied shyly,

“hi...”

Jake pointed his hands between them as he said sadly,

“Again... I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you and for putting you through this... you can get another front seater when we get back.”

Hawkeye shook her head as she insisted,

“No no... I really like you-“

She then corrected herself while trying not to blush for being so direct, not remembering hat Jake had confessed first,

“I mean.. I’m fine with you, you’re great guy Hangman, you practically saved my life you know? I need someone like you.”

Jake nodded appreciatively while trying not to blush at her words.

“Thanks... I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Me too.. thanks to you... and when we get back.. we’ll work this out ok?”

Jake’s face lit up, as he nodded happily,

“Oh-Ok! great!”

Hawkeye then reached for Jake’s hand and held it in her own, giving it a good squeeze to show him that she was being truthful about her words. Jake lifted his other hand and held their holdings hands, sense Hawkeye clutched her broken arm close to her chest. Jake then felt very sorry, he knew it paid to have a broke arm, meaning you can’t fly until it’s completely healed. While he was in his thoughts seconds of silence had passed, before the atmosphere filled itself with Hawkeye’s hearty laughter. She threw her head back and went on, Jake was confused at first, but then he naturally joined along as he continued to hear it and loved how contagious it was. Words didn’t need to be said as to why they were laughing, they just did, the relief of what they went through came out in laughter. Hawkeye sighed loudly while trying to catch her breath, she then giggled,

“I can’t believe that this happened... like look at us.”

Jake let out a short giggle,

“Who would’ve thought huh?”

Raising her good arm Hawkeye pointed out,

“Right?! No one is going to believe us you know that right?”

Shaking his head Jake agreed,

“I know... by at least we do, we know exactly what happened.”

Hawkeye chuckled as she pointed out Jake’s callsign name patch,

“Yeah.. thank you for coming back, and not living up to your callsign.”

Jake looked at his name tag and frowned at it, Hangman could mean a lot of things, and one of them was, that he’d always leave his wingman hanging. Although he liked the name sometimes for certain reasons, there were times like today, where he didn’t like it very much. But Hawkeye knew how to make him feel better as she put forth nicely with a cheeky smile,

“Don’t frown Hangman, I was the one Hanging after all.”

Jake looked up and joined Hawkeye when she let out a long but cheerful laughter, cause it was true. Hawkeye was the one hanging off the tree in the end. He wiped his eye from a tear that threatened to slip from how hard he was laughing. But he mainly turned his fear into hard laughter, it was either him laughing hard or crying ugly, and laughter was the better choice. Hawkeye was happy she broke him out of his trance, and felt more relaxed to see him ok, for he was just as terrified as her. After a few seconds they calmed down and held onto the branch while taking deep but refreshing breaths, letting out a couple of breathy chuckles here and there. And they could get lost into one another’s gaze again, the whipping sound of the helicopter blades began to sound loudly, help and rescue had arrived. Jake immediately moved to stand up and signal them, he first made sure that Hawkeye held onto his legs and he began to wave his hands exaggeratedly while shouting at them.

Minutes later they came down in ropes to tie and take them up. Jake let Hawkeye go first, after he persistently told the medics to be extra careful with her hurt arm, he watched them attentively as they buckled her latches. Jake gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and a light but meaningful kiss on her forehead before she was sent up, his heart swelled when she squeezed his hand back tightly. Hawkeye sent him a warm and confident smile as she went up, they kept their eyes on each other until she made it onto the helicopter. Then they came back down again, and tied Jake up, pulling him up onto the helicopter safely. Once he got on, he saw how the medics had started treating Hawkeye’s arm, already finishing up by wrapping it securely and putting it in a sling. He quickly took a seat next to Hawkeye after they secured themselves in, happy to see how she had scooted so he could fit comfortably next to her, though their arms and legs still brushed up against one another. Hawkeye leaned towards Jake and placed a loving kiss on his cheek, before leaning her head back against her seat and closed her eyes. Stunned for a second while blushing hard, Hangman took that moment to gaze at her in awe as he saw how relaxed, happy and relived she looked. He then reached over and pulled her head to lean on his broad shoulder, as he said assuringly,

“You can lean on me... get some rest ok?”

She leaned closer to him and cuddled her face into his shoulder, as she mumbled a sweet,

“Thank you Jake.”

Jake patted her thigh softly,

“anytime..”

Once he felt that Hawkeye’s weight grew heavier on him, meaning she actually passed out in a nice slumber, he too leaned his head on hers carefully, after he gave her head a soft kiss, smelling her hair that was a scent of vanilla and honey. Happy to know she was alive and safe next to him. Hearing her soft breathing and feeling her pressed up against him, was enough for him to pass out as well, while he held onto her pinkie tightly, while their hands rested next to each other on his lap.

#jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x you #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman #top gun hangman #topgun x reader #hangman angst #hangman fluff

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dragon-kazansky · 5 days

Text

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Eight - Sparkling diamond

♡♡♡

Benedict joined his sister, Eloise, out in the garden again long after the other had gone to bed. She was smoking on the swing like last time.

As Benedict takes a seat on the opposite swing, she passes him the cigarette. He takes it.

"I found bits of your sketchbook in the fireplace," Eloise says.

"Are you spying on me now?"

"You'd actually have to be interesting for me to bother spying on you," she chuckles.

"The drawings in that sketchbook were abominable," he says firmly. "I could not stand to look at them."

"I believe that is why they call it a sketchbook." Eloise looks at them. "I write in my diary, which is not the same as wiring in my novel."

Benedict chuckles.

"It must be very difficult to want something and not be able to get it."

"Eloise..."

"If you enjoy drawing but need practise, then practise," she goes on. "Hire a drawing master. Find a young lady to act impressed."

You cross his mind. However, he doesn't want you to act impressed. He wants you to be impressed by his work. Genuinely so.

"If you desire the sun and the moon, all you have to do is go out and shoot at the sky. Some of us cannot.

"Look no further than Lady Whistledown. She possesses a huge talent for writing, and yet she must hide away and publish under a false name."

"Yes, because if anyone knew who Whistledown truly was, she'd be strung up for what she said," Benedict states.

"That is not my point. Whistledown is a woman, therefore she has nothing, and still she writes. You're a man, therefore you have everything. You are able to do whatever you want. So do it. Be bold."

Eloise envies her brothers.

"At least that way I can live vicariously through you." She rises to leave.

"Eloise... are you Lady Whistledown?" Benedict asks.

Eloise laughs.

"You're an accomplished writer, always scribbling in that diary of yours. You certainly know everyone else's business. You have more opinions than anyone else I know in London. You would have my full support and admiration either way, sister."

Elosie laughs again.

"So... is it you?"

"No." She looks at him. "Though if it were... do you honestly think that I'd admit it?"

Elosie heads back inside.

Benedict is left with his thoughts.

♡♡♡

The ballroom was elegantly designed. Soft shades to light up the room. You find yourself without a dance partner, however.

Prince Friedrich was in the middle of a dance with Cressida Cowper.

The duke was standing sternly off to the side with Lady Danbury. They appeared to be talking quietly, though judging by the stern faces, it was not a pleasant conversation.

You find yourself gently, and you admire the room. Benedict wasn't here. You couldn't see him at all.

That is not to say you had gone unnoticed. You glance to your left and find a perfectly suitable gentleman looking your way. You smile softly and turn your gaze away.

Tactics of flirtation were not completely out of your power.

Before anyone could make a move, however, the doors at the top of the stairs opened. It wasn't so much the doors that caught everyones attention, more like who had come through them.

You swear you all breath left you when your eyes landed on Daphne coming down the stairs with her mother. She was wearing the most beautiful silver gown you had ever seen, and her hair was beautifully done. She looked like, well, a princess.

In her hand was a feather fan. It went beautifully with her attire. She began to descend the stairs.

All eyes were on her.

Prince Friedrich was at the bottom of the stairs. Not once did he look away. You watch with interest as Daphne gets closer, closer, and closer to him.

The prince leaves Cressida's side to meet Daphne at the bottom stair.

The duke does not move.

Daphne stops.

"Miss Bridgerton, I simply musylt have your first dance." He speaks to her softly.

"It would be an honour, your highness." She curtsies.

A moment passes between them, and then you watch as Daphne drops her fan. Just like that, the prince kneels down to pick it up.

The prince kneeled.

You don't even realise the soft gasp you let out as you watch.

Prince Friedrich offers her the fan, and she takes it. She smiles at him and then gives the fun to her mother as she takes the prince hand.

They dance.

The duke leaves. Though he turns back to look at Daphne before he goes.

In the words of Lady Whistledown, why settle for a duke when one can have a prince?

♡♡♡

The invitation to attend the boxing match came from Anthony Bridgerton. You were rather pleasantly surprised by his invitation.

Anthony apparently needed some help to keep his mother quiet about finding a wife for himself.

You laughed.

You follow the siblings until they reach the prince. He approaches Daphne, but greets you, also. You curtsy.

Anthony then offers you his arm. "Shall we?"

You chuckle and take it, allowing him to lead you over to some seats. As you settle, you turn to the eldest Bridgerton.

"Where are you brothers?" You ask.

"My brothers? Currently talking to one of the fighters." He gestures to the edge of the ring where you spot Colin and Benedict.

You don't even notice you're smiling.

"You and my brother seem to have grown rather close." Anthony points out, looking at you.

"I can assure you there is nothing untoward. Your brother is my friend, as are you all now." You smile at him.

Anthony chuckles.

"Benedict seems to have a lot on his mind at the moment. I am not one to get in the way of someone's business."

"Smart woman," Anthony chuckles.

You nudge his arm lightly and wait for the fight to begin.

As the match is announced to begin, the other brothers find their way to you and Anthony. Benedict looks rather surprised to see you. "I had no idea you were attending."

"Your brother invited me to keep your mother off his back. It seems that is all I'm good for." You chuckle.

"No true, but appreciated none the less," Benedict comments.

You smile, and he takes the empty seat beside you. It does not go unnoticed that you keep your arm looped with Anthony's. He doesn't comment on it.

The fight is intense. You gasp with every hard punch. The men around you cheer on their victor.

You had never witnessed such a match before, and you would be lying if you said you were not somewhat into it.

As the crowd stands, you stand with them and cheer along with the Bridgerton brothers. William Mondrich was their friend, and he was putting up hell of a good fight.

Benedict finds it amusing how excited you seem to be.

Mondrich wins!

You cheer along with the brothers. You laugh at the excitement. It was a thrilling match, indeed.

Anthony helps you down from your seat and speaks close to your ear so you can hear him. "We're off to collect our winnings. I shall see to it you get home right after."

You nod and thank him. As he leaves to fetch his earrings, Benedict turns to you.

"Did you enjoy that?"

You chuckle. "I did. Surprisingly."

"I must say, I did not expect to see you in attendance."

"I am full of surprises."

Benedict looks at you quietly for a moment. "Yes. You are."

You smile and look away. However, his gaze lingers on you for a bit.

Later, the Bridgertons see to it that you get home safely before they head off to the club. A place for the gentlemen only.

Anthony helps you up into the carriage and thanks you for humouring him today. Yo return the gesture and wave as the carriage leaves.

Colin has to nudge Benedict out of his thoughts.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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monstas1ut · 1 year

Text

Characters Having Sex w/ black!s/o

BYAKUYA K , ICHIGO, KENPACHI, ACE, LEVI, MADARA

contains

__ +18 black coded reader, female reader, Squirting, the word slut, impreg, size diff, reader is claimed to have hairbeads in one of the Headcannons, heel kissing, teasing, pussy eating

a/n

___ Thanks again for all of the support, I’d love comments as well! And everyone is welcome to give me their suggestions, I don’t mind one bit!

Byakuya Kuchiki is the most erotic, passionate man that you’ve ever come across. His voice changes when around you. His face turns from a blank scowl to a gentle expression. How could he not? His wife was absolutely ethereal, gorgeous, and down right doll-like. There was something about you that he couldn’t shake loose from. Your finger was wrapped with Byakuya’s whole being.

There’s no doubt that Byakuya treats you like his Queen.

Byakuya would lay you down with care, he’ll admire your soft body and he’ll vocally pick out your insecurities. He will firmly say just how much he loves them, how much he loves you as a person. Your sweet hearted husband treats you as if you’re the only woman in the world. However, if you think about it, you are. You are the only woman in his world.

“You’re ravishing. I’m quite glad you chose this color, it enhances your skin color.”

“I do wish for you to keep this on, I’ll try not to ruin it.”

Byakuya is a man who’s quite fond of clothed sex. Lingerie, dresses, and heels. Specifically heels that strap up your legs. The gold color of them would completely wreck him. They look so good on your brown skin. He always thought you looked expensive. He can’t help but imagine them by his face. And a small secret is that he will kiss each of the strings and the heel itself before sinking his cock inside of you.

“My beautiful Queen, Mrs. Kuchiki”

“You’ve gotten me so worked up… I deeply apologize for what I am about to do.”

“Don’t be bratty with me, I will give you money to fix the damage..” Byakuya will simply be referring to your lace, your acrylics, and your makeup. Because really, he can’t help but pin your wrists above your head. His cock was above average, it was so pretty and elegant just like his aura. He bared no hair below, and it was clean. It didn’t curve, but it had a clean, straightened form. It dug inside you with soft, slow strokes, and it found your g-spot every time.

Byakuya seems like a gentle, sweet, loving man, and he is. However, one thing that can push him over the edge is that pretty brown pussy squirting on his cock. He doesn’t expect it all the time, no, but he can’t help but make you feel like you’ve reached heaven. His overstimulation would include fingering you the rest of the way, or softly sucking at your clit with passion. He’d completely forget about his own pleasure… but it’s because of you.

“What such beauty…” he may sound as if he’s alright.. but he’s fought against cumming at least five times.

Ichigo Kurosaki is such a shocker and a goofball. Being in an established relationship with him is a ride in itself. He would be completely invisible most of the time, but he still thinks about you. Whether you are a human or a soul reaper, you still barely see him. He is the strongest among most, there’s no way he can’t be on the front lines. But, best believe he’s thinking about you. He’s thinking about how you laugh, your overly glossy lips, your beads and how they make so much noise.

Lord knows he’s craving your touch. He can’t even function sometimes when he’s gone for too long. He misses your touch, how you cook, and your mushroom hat(he knows it’s a bonnet, he just loves to piss you off). Ichigo gets agitated so quickly, he usually runs to you when it’s beginning to be too much for him. All of it builds up because he’s unable to see you, but damn does he give it to you the second he sees you.

Ichigo is very caring, he��s more of a gentleman in bed.. but he won’t hesitate to slut you out if you ask for more. He legit doesn’t care if you have your bonnet on, or if some of your acrylics have broken off. Ichigo doesn’t even care if you’re wearing a plain, big tee. He’s pushing that shit up and he’s using his cock to make you cum.

Big boy Ichigo has a cock that tilts to the side. It’s very thick and long. He hits the best spots inside of you, and it’s absolutely perfect the way your insides caress it. He prefers gripping your ass cheeks with a tightness, and making you go slow while you’re bouncing on him or if you’re in the doggy style position. He especially loves it if the sun is beaming from the window, shining right on your brown skin. He likes the glow, he loves the softness of your brown pussy lips around his cock. The way you showed yourself to him.

“Just… like… that… fuck”

“Ass looks so pretty like this..” Ichigo will immediately burst if you shake your ass. He really can’t deal with it. He’s the type to cum in his jeans if you dance on him, what makes you think he can survive your wet pussy and your huge ass bouncing to him. And at the same time? No. He will get his revenge that’s for sure.

All that will be heard is your loud moans and whimpers as Ichigo pounds your kitty. The backshots would sound like bombs.. and your eyes will not only roll back, but your brain would go blank.

“You’ve lost it huh? Poor thing.”

“Don’t run yet… I’m not finished y/n… Baby cmon…”

Kenpachi Zaraki had a thing about himself. The male was too large for anyone to even consider him soft. However, behind closed doors, Kenpachi is a big bear to you. Not only does he fall into your little acts, but he will come to your rescue everytime. Much to his dismay, his obvious care for you has slipped in public a few times. If you’re visibly in danger, he’s literally going to go insane, more than he already is. You’re his everything.

Kenpachi has lost a lot, he can’t let you leave him too. That is why he is as careful as possible. He may jeer some rude comments at you, he may push you once or twice.. and he may even press your buttons, but he won’t do it harshly. Just like in the bedroom. It wouldn’t be all extravagant, hell, it may not even be in the bedroom. Unlike other men, Kenpachi doesn’t plan shit. If he gazes upon you fighting like a complete maniac, yet still being a sexy slut, he’s gonna get hard.

The captain is easy to please and turn on. You could stick your tongue out at him and he’s immediately hard. A fairly huge thing is the way you’re shaped, though. Kenpachi cared nothing for women in his earlier days, hell, he still doesn’t. But, you were just that one exception. Your height was so low, yet your power level was as a lieutenant(he’ll brag about you all the time).

But the thing is that Kenpachi watches you intensely while you take his cock. He was beyond average, as so was his height. There wasn’t really a huge shock when his cock thumped on your pussy the first time you two had sex. Overtime, it’s become easier for you, and it’s made Kenpachi revel in the soft feel of heaven.

“Damn this pussy is tight.”

“Stop squeezin’ me like that… before I fuck you to sleep.”

Kenpachi also loves when you talk to him like YOU own HIM. When in reality , it’s the other way around. If you dare to act bratty around him, that just makes him have a certain excuse for pulling at your braids, or whatever hairstyle you have in your head that day. He loves ruining it.. hey, he believes if you act that bratty, you don’t deserve it.. but it’s not like he won’t go to the human world and steal what you need… he’ll do it. Besides, like Byakuya, he’s wrapped around your finger.

“How can you take all of me… shit!”

“You gotta be shittin me if you think I’m pulling out. Go ahead an’ pass out, I’m just gonna keep goin’..”

Madara Uchiha is a man of substance. One may think he doesn’t take pleasure in sex often, but wow are they incorrect. Once a black woman falls into his arms, he’s completely blind to everything and everyone else. You sparked life into his eyes. His dullness had lightened the second you came around. His secret was being touch starved, and the second you came around him, bold as ever, he melted almost.

This man was scary, everyone knows this, but you weren’t afraid one bit. You even called him ‘sugar’, ‘baby’, and ‘love’. He scowled the first time he even heard it, he practically threatened you as well. However this didn’t deter you from him, it made you try to get closer. Madara started noticing himself fall when you’d bring him meals, speak to him, and even take up for him. He couldn’t help but pair you as his own.

And once you were his, there was no backing out.

Madara specifically took a liking to the opposites of you both. The only thing in common was that you both came from strong clans. Your brown skin, your hair, it was all different. Even the way you spoke was different, and he couldn’t help but listen to it in more ways than one.

“Open. Don’t hide your voice from me.”

“I suppose you rather I stop? No..? Then act as if you mean it.”

Madara can’t help it when he’s alone, he has to cum to your sweet words. He doesn’t even mind if they were slurred or babbles. He will overstimulate you until he turns you dumb. He will tie you up just to hear your whines, and he will make you say his name over and over again until he’s satisfied.

Madara’s cock was so damn big, so it wasn’t hard for him to get that outcome. He always has you creaming on his cock, and so much. The tears coming from your eyes never fails to make him even more rough.. although, he does try to be romantic. He can be very romantic and sweet, but sometimes he loses himself. His eyes turn that familiar red, his senses are higher, and all he can think about is catching that high while you’ve come on his cock more than four times.

The room would be potent with your delightful smells, and the Uchiha mark that was on that shirt you wore would be covered in sweat.

“It’s so damn hard to be gentle with you, my love. Especially when I think about how precious you’d appear with a large belly..”

“I wonder how many times I can place a baby inside of you… you’d love that right?”

Please say yes, because he’ll cum instantly…

Levi Ackerman was a virgin before you, please understand that. He didn’t have time for such matters. So, when coming across you, he’s absolutely appalled with how you act. You’re blunt, you have the same energy as him, and you’re beautiful. You were much different from the others. Not only was the island filled with fair skinned people, but they didn’t even know people could come out such a color.

There were some who thought you were weird, but just about every man there thought that you were beautiful. The sun would wrap around your skin, and Levi would stare so damn hard that Hange would completely destroy him verbally. Levi started to become so enchanted by you that he began thinking lewd. So, when he finally got his hands on you… he absolutely went berserk.

Levi runs on pure instinct. If it’s been a bad day, he’s pounding you harder than he looked like he could. He’s short, you’re taller than him, and thicker.. but you would be lying if you said he didn’t have you cumming every three minutes. His short height didn’t compare to his cock, that’s for sure. You kind of wonder how he gets to conceal that thing while wearing his uniform.

Levi is fifty percent gentle, the other fifty being a complete maniac. There’s no knowing what you’ll get this day, or the next. One day, he could be completely on board with you slamming your ass down on him, but the next? He’ll be making sure you know that you have no authority. He loves watching you try to catch your breath, it’s funny when you also try to keep quiet. You don’t want anyone hearing you, and Levi has also felt this way.. but overtime he’s become a bit of a smut.

“You can scream louder than that, y/n…”

“You make such a mess… Your pussy makes more noise than your mouth.”

Teasing is a huge thing for him. Levi can’t have sex with you without teasing you at least once. Seeing you begging for his cock is all he needs to get him going. That, or when you try to get into your uniform. He just knew your ass was huge, everyone could attest to knowing this. It was an inside joke for the scouts. Everyone would joke solely about how you struggled to put your pants on today. Levi would silently agree when he wasn’t in a relationship with you.. but now, most people have stopped saying it.. Levi gets jealous easily, and Jean and Connie have been the two to really get scolded and hurt by Levi.

Only Levi can talk about how huge your ass is. Hell, he’s the one making it bounce at night. He’s the one that has absolutely made you a pool of water. One of Levi’s favorite things would be watching you fuck yourself on his cock.. really. He loves when you’re bouncing on it, shaking ass on it, grinding on it. He won’t admit it, but he’ll cum fast… yet he’ll still be hard. And please don’t try to leave him before he's cum, he’ll grab your curls and will not let go until you finish your duty… he doesn’t care how much you cry and whine about it.

Rarely, Levi will give pity. He’ll see how weak you are by the end of the day, and he’ll suck up his problems to tend to yours. He likes to be clean and sterile, and he knows you are too, but eating pussy was a thing he had to ease into. He couldn’t even understand how you suck him off.. but if you could do it, he could do the same to you. So, he usually eats you out when you’re very tired or annoyed. He goes so slow. He makes sure to touch every crevice. That man’s lips have been absolutely everywhere… and I mean everywhere.. he doesn’t talk about it afterwards, but he’s definitely harder than a rock.

Levi may not say it, but there was something about getting dirty with you…

“Filthy little slut…”

“Might as well get you to squirt. You’re begging me to do it anyway.”

He just wants to drink it…

Portgas D. Ace is head over heels for you, so much so that he is whipped. You’ve sparked this sudden love for women, but he couldn’t look at another woman like this. He’s like a little boy finding out he can imagine things. His brain is absolutely destroyed the second he meets you. Your energy was just too sexy. The way you look at him, the way you lick your lips, the way you rub his arm. Ace can’t help but imagine just how proactive you could be in bed.

Eventually, he doesn’t have to imagine.. but his brain still sabotages him. He constantly thinks about how you’d look in certain things, certain hairstyles. He especially loves braids and he has a huge thing for them. They seem so perfect, just like you. Your hair defines you, and it’s the most important thing on your body, Ace would understand that fully. He knows it’s your crown.. that’s why he doesn’t touch it during sex.

Poor baby. Ace can’t help when you're sucking him off. He’s all over the place because he doesn’t want to touch your crown. However, if you tell him you can, he’ll be so gentle. He won’t even grip it, he’ll run his fingers through it and inspect the feel. He won’t even yank it when you’re deepthroating him. He’ll just pant and growl.

Ace will slap your ass though, let’s get that straight. He’s not all innocent. He will do whatever you tell him to do. Hell, he’ll even sit there handsomely and watch you tease him with a lap dance. Or, he’ll watch you use your fingers for pleasure. This man is a flip flop, he can dom you into the night, but will sub for you any second. He’s a sweetie pie, he will cherish every part of your body without hesitation.

All he asks is that you make it known that he pleasures you greatly. And he does. His cock is always so warm. It makes your whole body feel comforted, but sometimes it’s so hot that you two are sweating from all of the sexual energy. Ace can barely control himself when you’re draining him.. It could result in some accidental burns, but he will apologize so quickly.. but a secret is that he nuts pretty fast if you still keep going after the slight burn.. especially if you moan from it…

“You’re-… so beautiful, y/n…”

“I love you so much… Damn. I love this pussy too… I hope it loves me back…”

Ace is such a joker when you two are in bed. He can’t help but crack a few because that’s just how he is. He will laugh when you make a cute sound, and it’s contagious.. so you end up laughing and moaning at the same time. It’s actually quite hot to Ace.. and he manages to hold his orgasm, but that’s because he tries not to focus too much on it.

“Damn it-… y/n I can’t-…”

“Sorry! It was too tight, I couldn’t pull out because you were gripping me too hard!… it’s too tight…”

“It felt so good though…”

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 9 months

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I just can't get the idea of Lorcan with a soft wife. Like she gardens and bakes and nobody understands how the dynamic works so well but it just does

Sweet peas

Well, don't they say that opposites attract? Sounds cliché but in all reality, it's just how it is. It's so obvious looking at the two of you that nature requires balance.

Lorcan is the embodiment of dark, lethal power. He's someone who people don't even dare to take a second glance at. Lowering their heads. Moving further away from the streets. Praying to the gods they believe in hopes that they would save them if Lorcan appeared on their doorstep. Especially when he's the god of death himself.

So to say that people gasped with fear when they saw you standing so close to him the first couple of times would be an understatement. "What a poor beautiful girl, hope the death is quick", "What could have she possibly done to upset him", and "What a cruel way to go, for such a delicate creature".

Just the funny thing is that it's quite the opposite. It's Lorcan who has been captivated by you. Trailing by you like a true dark shadow. And it's as if he finally understood what it's like to feel the warmth that radiates from the sky. How pleasant the summer breeze can be. That chirping bird wasn't all that annoying. And all of that is because of you.

The first time you met he was rushing back home. Annoyed over the fact that the whole day was shit. Cutting corners so that he would return to the comfort of his home as soon as possible. In all of his anger, he didn't notice the patch of only springing flowers, his big boots stomping on them. The gasp that echoed behind him made him jerk back.

And there you were. Two braids falling over your chest, a light green dress with puffy sleeves, and a dirty airport that you without a doubt used to wipe your hands at. At first, he thought that the gasp was the usual reaction to you simply seeing him. That's how everyone always reacted. But no.

You weren't looking at him. Eyes fixed on the crushed stems beneath Lorcan's feet. His own eyes darted down. "My sweet peas...", you stepped closer, pushing at Lorcan's chest as if he wasn't the biggest predator in town. "No, no...", you muttered, kneeling, gently trying to pull any of the potential survivors up. And it felt as if that dead flower was exactly how Lorcan's heartfelt now watching you. The way your soft fingers touched the still-closed petals that will never get to bloom.

"I...", Lorcan starts but you're shaking your head, picking up your watering jug as you pierce him with what Lorcan assumed was your angry face but he could tell that it wasn't a usual emotion you portrayed.

But he can't stop thinking about those sweet peas. All evening. All night. All morning. And he's so grumpy. So unimaginably grumpy because why the hell is he thinking about some flowers? And the teasing from the boys doesn't help because when he finally snaps and says, "I don't know where to get sweet peas that are in bloom, okay?!", the whole room dies down. Fenrys throws Gavriel a look and the older male silently forbids the pup from commenting. Rowan has one eyebrow raised. It's Aelin who clocks onto what's going on. She knows you. Had seen you last evening, and listened to how upset you were that your favorite flowers got stomped on by some sulking brood. "I know where to and plenty of them", she says softly and Lorcan's hopeful eyes meet hers.

It's not long after that he's knocking on your cottage door. Hands firmly holding six pots with sweet peas in different colors. The sugary smell twirls all around Lorcan and it hits him that they almost smell like you. The door cracks open and here you are. Once again right in front of him and he's so starstruck that he forgets how to speak for a moment. Then he just pushes the pots closer to you, "Bought you what I destroyed". You tried to scold him with your eyes but Lorcan could see the happy softness there. "Want to help me replant them?", you asked softly and that was his last undoing. Shrugging off his jacket, Lorcan pushed the sleeves of his shirt over his elbows. Getting ready for the best day of his life that opened the door to happily ever after.

#lorcan salcaterre imagine #lorcan x reader #lorcan salvaterre x reader #lorcan salvaterre imagine #lorcan imagine #tog imagine #tog x reader #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass x reader #rowan whitethorn #fenrys moonbeam #gavriel #the cadre

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Note

Hi lovely how are you? Could you do a ”someone is trying to steal morpheus girl”? 🥹

A/N: Hey!! I'm doing fine, thank you! Exam season is right around the corner, so I'm living and breathing diagnostic tests, methodological models and theories of emotions.🌺

[MASTERLIST] || [Sandman-inspired playlist]

You know what the problem with Mona Lisa is? Everyone flocks like a mindless herd just to look at it as if there was nothing else at Luvr. Alright, it's the painting but it's not like there aren't any other paintings around the globe, right? And you know what that guy's problem is? He really thinks he's doing something with that sleazy smirk he-

"Are you doing alright?" Hob asked Morpheus. "You seem angry." It was a nice euphemism, a true monument of Hob's diplomacy.

Morpheus looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not angry," he stated in an ever-so-stern voice as if his act could actually fool anyone. After his very believable statement, his gaze returned to you, who was sitting sideways to the bar counter, sipping on an affogato. It was your own decision to leave them alone while they were catching up - it was their get-together and if it wasn't for Morpheus's desire to have you by his side wherever he went, you wouldn't be at the inn at all. Over your shoulder, Morpheus could see the face of the man who made him abandon his little chat with Hob - glistening eyes and a warm half-smile that made Morpheus terribly aware of his own tendency to be rather expressionless.

"Right, obviously," Hob answered with a wide grin on his face. There was something absolutely hilarious in watching the literal King of Dreams and Nightmares silently burn a hole in the face of some random mortal with his intense gaze. The atmosphere was only growing more tense, even if you and the charming strangers weren't aware of it. Tempted to push the swaying domino, Hob leaned towards Morpheus and added something quietly: "You know, you can admit it bothers you that someone is hitting on the girl you like. She is very beautiful, it was to be expected."

Like - what a useless word! Liking is for ice cream flavours or music bands. Morpheus was far beyond liking you. In some oddly possessive and quite pathetic way, he considered you to be part of him. People don't just like their own arms, do they? Instead, they find it hard, nearly impossible, to imagine existing without those very fingers, hips or knees; it seems strange to live in a body different from the one you have. Equally, how bizarre everything would be if he did not have you by his side! Like a parallel world where people have two left feet.

"It does not bother me," he answered in a husky voice before frantically getting up from the table. Hob continued snickering to himself in an infantile expectation of the uproar looming over the inn's patrons. But it wasn't only the human passion for action that spoke through him: in some way, Hob hoped that this fairly meaningless frustration will teach Morpheus something about himself and you - that if he doesn't cherish you, someone else gladly will.

With a characteristic stiffness in his step, Morpheus reached you and the stranger. His hand firmly grabbed your shoulder, making you think that something serious was going on and he was needed elsewhere immediately. You looked up at him but he did not spare you even a glance - his stern gaze was stuck to the brunet sitting across from you, whose once charming expression fell into something much more awkward. Clearly, Morpheus's appearance surprised him.

"We must leave," Dream spoke in a strict tone.

"Are you okay, love?" you asked him as you stood up from the stool and gathered your belongings. Hearing the affectionate title, the stranger whom you had been talking to unconsciously raised his cheeks and furrowed his eyebrows - disgust. Perhaps he considered Morpheus a little too, for a lack of better expression, bland appearance-wise to think about him as in any way equal to you. What a strange thought it truly was: that you, a mundane human, were settling for Dream of the Endless.

Feeling desperation crawling up his spine, the brown-haired man took the last chance he had: "Will I see you around?"

You gave him a polite smile while meaningfully shaking your head. "I can't imagine you will, no. Have a good day."

Following Morpheus's rushed footsteps towards the entrance door, you glanced over your shoulder towards the corner where he had been sitting, only to see Hob snickering as he watched the two of you leave the inn.

After a few minutes of walking, he stopped his march so suddenly, you bumped into his back. Morpheus turned around immediately but because of the lack of distance between you, he was towering over you. Having him look down on you with that unguessed, stern gaze was strangely both alluring and intimidating. There was a creeping thought in the back of your head that you had been oblivious to some scheme that definitely had something to do with you.

"Tell me," he began with a slight waver in his voice, "would a human make you happier?" Morpheus spoke quietly as though he didn't want anyone else to become privy to his own fears. There were many who would wreak unimaginable havoc once they got such information into their terrible claws.

"I don't understand what you're trying to say," you answered. Feeling flustering at how close you two were, considering it was a public space, your voice grew quieter with each word. No matter how well you've grown to know Morpheus, there was still some subliminal menace haunting the thoughts of anyone in his vicinity.

His ragged breath brushed against your face. Looking up into his clouded, dark eyes, you felt yourself growing smaller. At that moment he could ask you for anything and you wouldn't dare to decline. "I can give you everything you might wish for," he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, "but I can not join you in the life you are used to."

Suddenly, the strange events of the past fifteen minutes became painfully obvious and you found it funny that you had been oblivious to this web of anxieties until now. "If I wanted to have a typical 9-5 with a picket fence, do you think I'd still be here?" you asked him. Morpheus slightly turned his head to the side. It was hard to say whether he was pondering your words or felt shame at ever accusing you of anything short of honesty. Whatever it was, you brought your hands up to his face and gently forced him to look back at you. "I'm not hanging around because I'm afraid to be lonely or something like that. I've made my choice, Morpheus. And that choice is life with you, whatever it may bring."

There was a certain sense of disbelief in his glistening eyes - it wasn't that he doubted your honesty, he truly did believe that you believed it, but a subconscious part of him, the festering wounds of all the infatuations he couldn't love as long as he wished, rendered him unable to take your statement without a grain of doubt. In other words, you were a person of integrity but he wasn't a man of faith. Not yet, perhaps.

You craned your neck to place a chaste peck on his cheek. Without thinking about it, Morpheus tilted his head towards you. His eyes fluttered shut but only for a split second as he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"You don't have to believe me," you began unsure of whether it was a good idea to address the fairly obvious shadow of fear that loomed over him. "But if you can, just trust me that I don't want anyone else."

"I trust you with all that I am."

"Good." You gave him a wide smile. Not expecting such a sudden change in your demeanour, Morpheus furrowed his thick eyebrows. "Because I'm taking you on a small adventure."

Before he could ask you anything, you grabbed his elbow and began walking somewhere. He let you pull him in whatever direction you wanted - he always did. Perhaps he wasn't quite aware of it yet but he never suspected you of ill will. When it came to you, he was surprisingly naive.

"Where are you leading me?" he questioned you but never forced you to stop. In a very ignoble way, Morpheus was devoted to following some human's whim.

You shrugged before answering in a humorously questioning manner: "Straight ahead? Just following my gut."

Morpheus surprised himself with his own contentment - getting lost in the Waking World was okay as long as it was him and you.

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hongcherry · 10 months

Note

Hi author ! I just got to know you've opened your request thing. But before that I would like to say, I'M OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITING. I love all your stories <3 So here's a little idea but then as always it's your wish if you wanna accept it or not.

Jungkook and reader (makeup artist), teasing, dirty talks, reader's insecurity coz she thinks she's not pretty (after concert/show), fluff without smut !!!!

Thank you again and hope you're having a good day. Take care 🫶

How I See You || j.jk

💄 Pairing: idol!Jungkook x MUA!Reader (gn)

💄 Rating/Genres/AUs: NC-17; Angst, fluff, suggestive content; Idol au, established relationship

💄 Warnings: Reader's insecure (appearance), alludes to sexy time, gn tho reader is called beautiful and pretty

💄 Word Count: 751

💄 Author's Note: Ahhhdlfbkj it's so nice to know someone likes my writing this much. Thank you for the love 🥺 I hope you've been well and ty for the request! (:

bts masterlist | main masterlist

“What did you just say?”

Jungkook stares at you incredulously, pierced-eyebrow raising in question.

You stare at the makeup brush in your hand. It’s easier to look at it than his face as you reply.

“It was nothing,” you sigh. “Can I just finish your makeup so that I can attend to the others?”

Jungkook grabs the brush from your hands and tilts your chin so you’re looking at him. His lips are dipped in a frown.

You try to reach for the item as you need to stay on schedule, but Jungkook moves it out of your reach.

“Babe, you belong here.”

“It’s hard not to think that way when we’re surrounded by flawless faces and bodies,” you explain and retrieve the stolen makeup brush.

You recall all the gorgeous and handsome faces you had passed as you made your way to BTS’ room earlier. Award show season has always chipped away at your confidence. It was still difficult to believe Jungkook chose you out of the sea of models.

You grab an eyeshadow palette and resume the eye look on the man before you. This time, he lets you continue your work.

“No one’s flawless,” he says.

“You are,” you argue.

Jungkook peeks an eye open.

“Tell that to my pimple,” he teases.

Your lips curl in a small smile, and Jungkook grins at your reaction.

“I think you’re just as beautiful as those idols out there,” he states firmly. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”

Your movements pause at his words. He spoke lowly so the other staff couldn’t hear, but you heard him clearly.

Both of Jungkook’s eyes are open now, staring at you fondly with his famous bunny smile.

“Everyone has their own vision of beauty. You’re mine. You’re the definition of beauty to me.”

You stand silently. You’re unsure how to reply, but it doesn’t matter to Jungkook.

Jungkook reaches up and brings your face down for a quick peck. Your eyes widen as you glance around the room. Although all the staff knows about your relationship, you still try to keep it at a minimum.

“You don’t believe me?” he questions with a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“It just takes time,” you reply and gesture for him to close his eyes. He does, but you can tell his mind is still rolling with thoughts. Though, you pay no mind to it as you finish his makeup.

Jungkook leaves with another quick kiss on your lips. There’s something mischievous about his expression, but you can’t put your fingers on it and eventually, you forget about it as you work on the other members.

Jungkook returns to the dressing room to find it empty except for you. He wonders where everyone else is, but doesn’t sit on the thought for long. He knows he doesn’t have long.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, startled to see him when he should be seated for the awards.

Jungkook walks to you and pulls you close.

“I can’t wait to show you just how beautiful you are,” he whispers, sending shivers down your spine at how close he is. His hands are kneading your sides. It’s hard to focus with his chest pressed against yours.

All of a sudden, you’re spun around, face-to-face with yourself in the mirror. Your eyes shift to Jungkook behind you. He’s raising the hem of your shirt ever so slightly.

The several footsteps outside become background noise as Jungkook squeezes your body.

“I’ll show you just like this,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. His lips connect with the skin just beneath your earlobe.

“Jungkook,” you gasp in warning. Your body warms at the thought of him taking you in front of the mirror in your bedroom later tonight.

“I’m going to help you see how beautiful you are,” he says. “You deserve to see how I see you.”

“Average?” you say as a half-joke.

Jungkook pinches your sides as a mini punishment for your self-deprecating comment. You whine and move away, though you don’t get far because he holds you tighter.

“Breathtaking.”

Jungkook places a kiss on your neck and lips before pulling away. He sends you a playful wink, then slips out of the room.

You watch as he disappears as quickly as he came, a little baffled about what just happened. Turning around, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Jungkook’s words echo in your head as you take in your appearance.

You already feel prettier than before.

A/N: Okay, now everyone say one thing you like about yourself 🥰 #selflove (u don't need to comment or tell me, just tell yourself ^-^)

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY. Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

#requests #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook idol au #bts idol au #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #=

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plutoswritingplanet · 2 years

Text

Ptolemaea (Peter Ballard x Female!Reader)

a/n: this one’s dark you guys, based loosely on the song “Ptolemaea” by Ethel Cain

Warnings: NON-CON (for real, proceed with extra caution here), AU-ish, Rainbow Room donging, fluorescent lights being used as a metaphor for a broken mind

Summary: Out of all the days you could’ve chosen to be nosy, it had to be today. And just like that, you fall straight into a spider’s web, one, that has been in the making for quite some time.

There's blood smeared on the walls of the Rainbow Room. And the floor, long lines cut through vibrant colour. There are chairs and tables thrown around the place in disarray, some broken beyond repair, splinters and bended metal reach towards the ceiling in a grotesque display. Children's toys litter the place. There is a toy truck sitting by your foot, one of the wheels is missing and there are tell-tale specs of blood on the yellow plastic. Your eyes shift from a pile to a pile, your mind blank as a canvas, never quite focusing on any object. It takes a lot of strength, trying not to see the corpses.

You've been here before only a handful of times, usually restricted to your office, safe between the shelves filled with medicine and your cold, metal desk. This place, whatever happened here, was out of your limits, and you've learned a long time ago, that the key to surviving working in Hawkins Laboratory, was not asking any questions. And that self-imposed rule worked pretty good for you, that is until you've met Peter.

A guard, like all the others, maybe a bit less muscular. But what distinguished him from the rest, was that he seemed nice. Plain and simple. He would smile at you, ask about your day, even joke with the children sent to your office. He made the place feel a bit less like prison. And before you knew it, you were growing a huge, forbidden crush. Between the coffee breaks spent on talking, or just sitting in comfortable silence. The small touches far from cameras, where his hand would brush yours. Those slivers of contact occupied your brain for days on end.

You were aware, he was manipulating you. After all, you went through years of nursing school, you weren’t dumb. The way he would worm information out of you. How are the patients? What happened at training? How he would offer a smile and a kiss to your cheek for some medicine. You didn't mind, though. Those interactions were harmless, and what hurt could he really cause with some ibuprofen? A small way to indulge yourself in this constricting hell-hole, was all it was. Harmless, no feelings involved.

That is what you thought until this very moment. Because as you look ahead at all the carnage, all the small bodies you've helped before, you remember him telling you, not to come to work today.

- How is it, that everyone chose this particular day not to listen to me? - he wonders out loud, his voice melodic and low.

His hands are bloody, you can see red dripping from his fingertips. There are crimson specs climbing the entire length of his body, some finding purchase on his white trousers, white shirt, some decorate his pale cheekbones, some make his blonde hair matted in places. How is it possible, that he still looks beautiful, surrounded by all this tragedy? It shakes you to the core, how he seems to fit like a puzzle piece between the mutilated bodies. Like he's used to this, like this is normal to him.

Then, he takes the first step towards you, gracefully, like a cat.

Your eyes stay planted firmly on the yellow truck by your shoe. His silhouette moves distorted in the small reflection on the lacquered plastic, and as he comes ever closer. You start to shake.

Your ears train on the soft buzzing of the lamps overhead, slipping mind trying to find anything for purchase. Anything that would drown out the amassing of thoughts threatening to spill at any given moment.

- Look at me.

You can't. You know exactly what depths his blue eyes could pull you into. How they could make you believe anything, for example, that this isn't clearly his fault. How it's all an accident, and the man you grew close to wasn't a child murderer.

- Show me your face - his voice is soft, pleading, like all those times he's asked you to smuggle him some pills, for headaches, he'd say, and kiss your knuckles.

When his fingers touch your chin, you jump. Whole body being wrecked by an overpowering shiver. He doesn't let go, though, pushing your chin up until you're forced to relent. His touch is warm and wet on your skin. You know why, but you can't think about it. The buzzing of the lamps grows louder, mind latching onto it greedily.

- What did you do? - your voice sounds pathetically weak, so close to breaking.

He studies your face for a moment, blue eyes flickering between your scrunched eyebrows, falling momentarily to your trembling lips. Then, his hand moves, fingers rubbing your chin delicately, thumb sneaking up to the corner of your lips, where he presses down hard enough to feel your bottom teeth. Somehow, you don't feel the least bit comforted by his touches. Quite the opposite, it feels like he's checking inventory, before committing to a purchase.

- I did what I had to do, to make us free. - he replies in a low voice, sounding so obvious, like you're stupid for even asking.

To his credit, he doesn't try to hide himself under the disguise of innocence, showing you exactly what he has become. A monster. World swims around you, the reality of what happened, what will happen, hitting you all at once. Finally, you can smell the blood, iron taste invading your mouth with every breath. Nausea reels its ugly head in, and you start to struggle in his grasp. Your arms flain at your sides, weakly grabbing into his wrist, his arm, fingers gripping the white fabric of his shirt.

- All those kids - you're mumbling under your breath, eyes glazed over, unseeing - I've held all those kids, helped them...

Peter doesn't say anything, watching your meltdown with a mix of curiousness and utter indifference. There is a small body on the floor behind him. Shoved up to the wall, laying amongst pieces of broken glass. You'd recognize that lithe form anywhere, and the realization wrenches a sob out of you. Now, Peter is quick to move, his arms encircling you fully, tugging your face into his chest. For a moment, rage overtakes you, but Peter holds you close, taking in your outburst with impossible patience.

- Not her - you sob into his white shirt, as he grips your shoulders - Please, I though you wanted to help her...

Again, he stays silent, placing his chin on the top of your head. This embrace is anything but comforting. His long limbs tighten around you, subduing your spasms. Like a fly caught in a spider's web, you thrash and twitch, until there is no more fight left in you. And he, relentlessly, holds you close, the beating of his heart even, breathing calm and calculated.

- She didn't listen to me - he finally states, words whispered into your hair - This is what happens, when people don't listen to me. But you will, won't you, sweetness? You will listen.

You're not sure how long you two stay in this position. It must've been a while, because he lets you go only when you finally stop crying. When your wrecking sobs subside, so does everything around you. There's only the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, nothing else, both around you, and inside. What else is there to do?

Everyone you cared about is dead. Everyone except for him, your damnation incarnate.

- We were supposed to escape - he speaks, but you can barely hear him, there's someone's blood on your chin - All three of us. Make the world bend to our will, finally free from this place.

Pretty words whispered by pretty lips into the crown of your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone's small hand, sticking lifelessly out of the rubble. The buzzing grows stronger in your ears.

- But this is alright as well - he finally concludes, hands finding their place on your shoulders.

He leans back to look at you, and you're shocked to find something so utterly human behind his blue eyes. His expression is hopeful, innocent even, in the way he smiles at your blank stare.

You find there's no point in fighting. There's no one to fight for anymore. Eleven, the sweet girl, lies lifelessly behind him, and you don't find yourself worth the hussle of trying to get out. So, you stay, frozen by fear. The fear men like him bring upon a woman like you.

- I know, you're just a human - you try to ignore the implications of his words.

You're getting quite good at this. Ignoring. Eleven's leg is bended unnaturally, broken calf staring at you from behind his back.

Peter raises his finger, still coated in thick blood that begins to dry into a flaky mess. Despite your best efforts, you flinch, when he pushes one digit into your cheek, so hard, the gums on the other side start to ache. Then, mesmerized by his own art, he drags the blood across your face, down to your jaw.

- But I can protect you now - he says it like a vow, and in any other case, it would feel reassuring, romantic maybe, if you'd let yourself indulge in this fantasy.

- I can take care of you - his voice dips low in his throat, and you watch his Adam's apple move under pale skin.

It doesn't fully register in your brain, what is about to happen. That is until you see him sink down to his knees, his hands sliding the length of your body, stopping at your waist, where he fists the material of your skirt.

- Wait - your voice is weak and hoarse, mixing with the buzzing of the lamps in a cacophony of sounds - Not here...

Peter sees you, sees your mouth open, and yet, he remains indifferent, as he leans forward. Your whole body tenses, when his pink lips make contact with your lower abdomen, hidden from him behind layers of fabric. Despite that, you can feel him, the warmth eminating from his body in waves.

- Let me take care of you - he whispers into the flesh of your thigh.

Your body shakes, when he reaches around your hips, fingers finding the small zipper on your skirt, undoing it slowly, before dragging the garment down. His slender hands abandon your hips, in favor of massaging your legs. Idle fingers press down gently, squeezing your muscles, one after the other, until he reaches your calves.

Then, showing no mercy to your fragile mind, he looks up at you, capturing your gaze in an iron hold of his blue eyes. You can't look away, never could when he looked at you like that, pupils blown wide, mouth slightly open. His eyebrows raise in tandem with his hands, climbing their way up your legs.

Gently, as if handling a cracked glass, he begins to take off your thights. The stretchy fabric rolls easily off your skin, and when it reaches the floor, he helps you lift your feet to step out of them.

Your shoes are placed neatly to the side, along the nylon stockings. He even takes the time to unroll them, and fold them with care, placing them on the already folded skirt. And every second he spends indulging these small rituals, you feel yourself grow weak with anticipation.

It makes you sick to your stomach, the way your guts twist at the image of him, down on his knees handling your belongings with such patience and care. Especially given the circumstances of those actions.

Finally, he refocuses on you, eyes lingering on your underwear just long enough to make you understand, what's going to happen next. To your credit, your first reaction to him, leaning in closer, is to reach forward. You're not sure for what, if it's to push him away or to push him closer, but he doesn't let you decide on either. Your fingers barely touch his hair, and his hand seizes your wrist, grip hard enough for you to understand the warning. Then, he looks up, plants a chaste kiss to your knuckles, and lets go.

His other hand starts to kneed your thigh, your hips, until you're swaying in place. Then, with one final look, he closes in, kissing your clothed sex without as much as a warning.

The sensation feels foreign, subdued by cotton and lace. It's a small figment of what is about to happen, another shot at manipulating you right where he wants you. You congratulate yourself in your mind, there's still something of you left inside.

Breaking away after making a considerable wet patch, Peter finally settles for the main course, nails dragging across your skin as he pulls down your panties. He's much less careful with them, stuffing the fabric into one of your shoes. Then, he turns back to you, looking up with those baby-blues of his.

You want to look away, you really do, but your efforts are futile, as seems to be the theme of today.

- Peter - last ditched effort, swallowed, like all your other words by the ever-present buzzing of the lamps.

His mouth is on you in record speed, hands manuvering your body to his liking. He starts slow, licking long stripes, spreading your legs further apart.

Then, when you let out your first involuntary moan, he changes tactics, circling between fast and sharp licks at your clit, and long sensual ones, that make your head swim. Your hand flies out to his head, clawing at his scalp and waves of pleasure make your body rock in place.

It's too much, the feeling of his fingers digging into your flesh, his mouth on you, and that goddamned buzzing. Your legs start to tremble, balance leaving you in an act of betrayal. Before you can truly let yourself get swallowed by bliss, you fall, knees bucking under you, sending you forward.

Peter catches you immediately, chin glistening and eyes wild. He looks over you, searching for anything out of place, the expression on his face so close to caring, you almost believe him.

- I can't - you pant out, words slurred - I can't stand on my own.

- My silly girl - he huffs out, lips pulling into a smile that is anything but comforting.

You know that winning sparkle in his eyes just sealed your demise. This is you admission, after all, that he does need to take care of you, that you are too fragile of a human. For a brief moment you wonder, if this was planned as well, perhaps made specifically to convince you of his devotion.

His arms hold you tight, as he helps you kneel next to him, the cold floor grounding you in reality. This should be enough, you think, enough of a demonstration.

You think wrong, and Peter straightens himself before you, wiping his chin with the outside of his palm. Then, he dives down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that nearly chokes the breath out of your lungs. His tongue worms its way into your mouth, and you moan at the taste of your own arousal.

His hand dips down, between your legs, the intrusion making you jump in place. He tests your wetness with his fingers, rubbing your folds until he lets out a satisfied hum. With a gasp, you feel him push you down, carelessly, onto the cold, hard floor.

Your body obeys, boneless, spread out in the middle of the room. In the middle of the carnage. The fluorescent lights stare at you, their buzzing hurting your ears and stabbing your brain. In any other scenario, you would've heard the sound of a belt buckle being undone. Such awareness requires too much sanity, and you're on a rather short supply as of late. Then, he appears, looming over you like a shadow. His face is gentle, despite the sharp features, surrounded by a halo of blonde hair.

It takes your breath away, him on top of you. You've imagined this exact moment many times, during moments spent alone in your room, but never like this. Never polluted by the reality of the situation you're in. Because the man above you isn't the sweet Peter from your dreams. He's a monster. And you're not laying in the privacy of your bedroom. Your in the Rainbow room, where the smell of blood lingers.

As if reading your thoughts, he leans down and kisses your cheek. Then, nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His lips suck gently right behind your ear, and the sensation makes your body writhe beneath him.

- I won't hurt you - he whispers into your shoulder.

Liar, you think, and scrunch your eyes, as he enters you smoothly. There's a bit of a painful stretch at first, your muscles tensing, heart beating faster. Soon enough, the unpleasant feeling subsides, leaving you with a sensation of fullness. Still, he doesn't move, instead, kissing your forehead until your eyebrows relax.

- Open your eyes, sweetness - he pleads, you've heard this tone of voice before, and just like then, it works.

The light blinds you, as you force yourself to look at him, at his angelic face focused solely on you. Only then does he start moving, slow and deep, enough to make your back arch on the floor. Then, when he deems you ready, he picks up the pace to his liking.

Your hands flail at your sides, desperately trying to find something they can hold on to. You opt for his shoulders, nails digging into his soft skin with every thrust. It feels good, jolts of electrifying pleasure wrench staccato moans from your throat.

Yet, the buzzing of the lamps persists, and as you steadily climb towards your own peak, your head feels like it's about to explode. It's too much, everything is too much. The electric sound filling your ears, the blood, the weight of his body moving on top of yours.

You close your eyes again, and refuse to open them, despite his hand coming up to grip your chin.

- Open your eyes - now there's no trace of that gentleness from before in his voice.

- The light - you hiss out, teeth rattling as his hips slam into yours with little consideration - Hurts. Make it stop.

His other hand bites into the meat of your thigh, pulling it higher, over his waist. The new angle nearly makes you scream, the tenstion in your muscles reasy to snap at any moment.

- Open - he forces out through his teeth.

You're not going to risk his rage, so you do. You open your eyes and hiss at the light, the buzzing attacking your ears tenfold. The grip on your chin shifts, as he positions you, so you cannoth look away from him.

Then, his other hand reaches back, towards the ceiling, fingers sprawled in a grotesque display. You yelp as the lamps shatter, all at once, sparks flying.

The room falls into darkness, blessed silence washing over your senses. And in that darkness, you finally let go, unraveling with a voicless scream, one, he immediately dives down to swallow whole. He lets you ride your high, never letting go, until finally stuttering in his pace, and bringing himself impossibly closer. Then, everything stills.

You're too tired, too notice when he removes himself out of you. Beads of sweat fall from your forehead and mix with tears that appeared, you're not sure when. Soon, you will notice the ache lying on a hard floor unavoidably causes, but for now, you allow yourself to rest.

You've had enough.

Peter shifts his weight off of you, but you can still feel his presence nearby. His body is hot, as he lies down next to you, listening to your heavy breathing. One arm reaches over, tugging your messy hair behind your ear.

- I am never letting you go - a promise and a threat, one you will worry about later.

After all, despite his wrong doings, despite the unforgivable things hanging over both your heads like an executioners axe, he did make it stop. What more could you ask from a man like him?

#peter ballard x reader #peter ballard #stranger things #vecna x reader #vecna stranger things #001 x reader #henry creel x reader #001 stramger things #henry creel #my writing #tw: dark fic #killed eleven for my smut fic guys happy pride

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tender-rosiey · 1 year

Note

If you’re open for requests or suggestions, could you do Ushijima, Daichi and anyone else of your choice with a f!Reader who’s insecure due to society’s body standards? If that makes sense, sorry. I’ve been feeling really insecure lately because everyone’s either thick or really slim and they’re all pretty and fit in the standards whilst I don’t :(

“YOU’RE PULCHRITUDINOUS”

— ushijima, daichi, sakusa, atsumu, and oikawa comforting you

a/n: oop, this took some time; hello everyone <33 FEMALE READER BTW

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI:

when he passed by your shared bedroom, he didn’t expect to see you looking dejectedly at the mirror and constantly squishing your stomach.

“y/n…?”

you jump, startled, “oh hey toshi! what’s up?”

he walks towards you, steps soft, “what’s wrong? is something bothering you? did someone do something?”

you smile and shake your head, “nope!” you pat his cheek lightly before giving it a kiss, “it’s nothing you need to worry about, my sweet and buff husband.”

“but as your husband, I need to make sure that you’re happy and comfortable,” he says, looking you straight in the eye, but his hand holding your own and rubbing your wedding ring.

you chuckle lightly, but it’s humorless, “it’s just…I haven’t been feeling the best in my body, it’s like I don’t fit in with what the world considers beautiful.”

“if the world doesn’t consider you beautiful then they are blind.”

you lightly punch his shoulder, “where did you learn to flirt like that?”

“y/n, I am serious.”

for some reason, no words come out of your mouth as you see your husband place your hand on his chest, where his heart is, “I don’t know if it helps, but I firmly believe that you’re beautiful in ways that can never be described in words.”

“oh ‘toshi,” you wrap your arms around him and hug tightly, “I love you, so much.”

a smile makes its way onto your face when you feel him smile slightly into your hair, “I love you too.”

“also, why are you wearing a pink apron?” you ask, a giggle escaping your lips and eyeing his ‘best husband’ apron he has on.

“I was trying to cook something for you,” he says, but looks down at this feet, discouraged.

“and?”

“it doesn’t look appetizing,” he sighs before looking up, “I am sorry.”

“I will eat it anyway, it can’t be that bad,” you assure him before walking towards the door but he holds your arm gently.

“no, i can’t let you die because of food poisoning, especially food I made,” he says in slight panic and obvious worry that you can’t help but chuckle at.

SAWAMURA DAICHI:

mornings with you and your husband were generally organized and calm, a couple of kisses here and there, making drinks and breakfast for each other.

today was no different, except daichi has been searching for his cap for the last 15 minutes but to no avail. he searched high and low and checked every corner of the house.

hell, he even checked the attic and while yes, he stumbled across one of the photo albums he oh so adores but can’t indulge in right now, he still can’t find his cap.

so he settles for the option he should have chosen from the very start.

asking you, his beautiful wife, for help.

“y/n! have you seen my cap?”

“no! did you check under your brown coat?” you call out as you, gloomily, look yourself in the mirror.

“yes, but— oh nevermind; it’s really under my brown coat.”

daichi puts his cap on before running back to your room to give you a goodbye kiss, “hey there, gorgeous.”

“you must be developing the mothers’ super power of finding something quite early,” he chuckles, “or it’s a sign for us to finally do something.”

your cheeks heat up as you swat him away, “SAWAMURA DAICHI!”

he smiles again, taking your hand into his and kissing it. soon, he kneels down, “have I told you how beautiful you are?”

“yo-you don’t have to do that now,” you mumble, trying to make him stand up but looking away when he stubbornly stays in his knees, “you will be late.”

gently, he pulls you down to him and pats your head, “well, I think it’s more important to remind my wife that beauty standards are not consistent and shouldn’t be what she compares herself to.”

you narrow your eyes, “you think that it’s that easy to stop—“

he places a finger on your lips before he continues, “she also should know that she is a whole standard herself and that no one can even compare.”

you, flustered, avert your eyes and look away and he takes as a chance to place another kiss on your cheek, “well! I better going now.”

“good luck,” you say softly with a smile and he laughs.

“I don’t need luck as long as I have you by my side!” he raises his left hand and your name that is engraved on the wedding ring shines.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI:

it was just a day of chilling in your house; your husband has finally gotten a one week break and you both agreed to make all out of it.

so after some discussions, you put all the snacks on the table while he gets the blanket and pillows.

“what movie will watch?” you ask while he sets it up.

“whatever you want.”

“then spinning a wheel we shall do,” you hum while he grumbles.

“y/n, it never lands on something we like.”

you giggle, “that’s the fun of it!” you wrap your arms around his shoulders before kissing his cheek, “we can trash talk it all the more and if you don’t like that then we will spin it again.”

his arms find their way around your waist as the both of you sit down, “then what’s the point?”

“the author wants to add words because this was too short for her liking.”

“what?—“

you cut him off by throwing yourself on him causing him to lay down. he groans but pulls you closer nonetheless, “you’re killing me.”

“good,” you smile and snuggle into his chest even more. you sit for a while cuddling together. soon you speak up.

“omi, kiyoomi, omiomi, oni—“

“what.”

“do I look bad lately?” you question and he looks at you offended as if you had insulted his entire lineage.

his eyebrows furrow and a frown is instantly on his face, “who the hell put that dumb idea into your head?”

“no one— in particular— it’s just seeing how the standards for beauty are nowadays, I don’t exactly fit.”

he sighs and takes a hold of your hand, “I am going to say this as politely as I can,” he takes a deep breath, “fuck society and its beauty standards.”

you snort making him roll his eyes, “I am serious; who said you need to fit?”

“the world, omi.”

he bumps your foreheads together lightly, “well the world is dumb and if you believe it then you will be as dumb as it is.”

a pout graces your face and he press a chaste kiss on your lips, “I will love you til we grow old and wrinkly you loser; I don’t care about the standards they put and you shouldn’t.”

you prepare to punch him but he grabs your fist, but looks away to avoid eye contact; his cheeks are a soft red hue as he speaks, “to me…you’re the epitome of perfection and beauty.”

MIYA ATSUMU:

today, one of the many events atsumu has to attend; you know first hand how much he hates these events, and he doesn’t hesitate to let it be known.

“I would much rather spend my time with ya than a stupid event!” to be exact.

so the solution you found into convincing your husband to go the events is that you would go with him which got you to your current predicament.

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnn!”

“tsumu, have patience for god’s sake!”

“but I wanna see yaaaaaaaaaaa!”

he huffs and grumbles when he doesn’t get a response, “yer so mean.”

after a couple of minutes (really only one minute but atsumu’s patience is non-existent), he gets up and goes to check up on you.

the moment he opens the door, he is met with a sight he wants engrave in his memory forever. you looked beautiful, ethereal, gorgeous, and absolutely stunning to the point he is starting to feel hesitant about letting others see you like this.

they don’t deserve to see such heavenly beauty, he grumbles in his head. not like he does, but oh well some are just privileged. privileged as hell in his case.

“Y/N YA LOOK SO GORGEOUS! BEAUTIFUL! PRETTY! OH MY GOD HOW DID I GET SO LUCKY?!”

you giggle softly but soon start fiddling with your fingers, “you sure? I feel like I don’t exactly look that good.”

“why?” he visibly deflates, and pouts before waddling towards you. he hugs you from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder, “ya look so pretty, ya always do.”

“i don’t exactly meet the standards of the world nowadays.”

he smiles softly, “do ya want to know something?”

you hum and he interlocks your fingers together.

“everyday, I think about how out my league you are,” he starts, “ya always look so gorgeous and are so beautiful, not to mention your amazing personality.”

a smile makes its way to your face and he chuckle, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I also love yer cute little butt,” he cheekily says while squeezing it making you squeal.

“‘tsumu, we have an event we need to go to!”

“hmmm, I think we can just be fashionably late for tonight.”

OIKAWA TOORU:

“y/n, baby, angel, pretty, gorgeous, can you please come to bed!” your husband whines from the bed while you sit on your desk doing god knows what.

“baby, please I need to have you in my arms or I will die!”

you sigh, “tooru, stop the dramatics; I will be with you soon, bubs.”

he pouts before basically screaming in mini-caps, “YOUR HANDSOME HUSBAND WILL REALLY APPRECIATE HAVING HIS PRETTY WIFE IN HIS ARMS RIGHT NOW!”

soon, you throw an almost-empty pack of tissues on his stomach making him groan, “I said I will be with you soon, you baby.”

he gets up, a cute frown gracing his lips as he stands behind you, “y/n! it’s not nice to hit your husband with a tissue pack!”

“and it’s not nice to keep bugging your wife, pretty boy.”

“I-well-,” he splutters before crossing his arms and looking away. from the corner of your eye, you can see an adorable red hue adorning his cheeks.

“I still make you nervous, tooru?” you tease while he huffs a small ‘hush’.

he gets another chair and sits beside you, “ignoring me, what’s keeping you up, pretty?”

he takes a hold of your hand and rubs his thumb over it before kissing the back of your hand.

“just thinking about how I look…”

“how perfect you look?” he teases lightly, putting a strand of stray hair behind your ear.

“no, you loser,” you say chuckling sadly, “I don’t exactly fit with the beauty standards and stuff; I don’t feel that pretty sometimes.”

“hm, that certainly is a pickle,” he hums thoughtfully, “but it’s okay to feel that way, even I feel like that.”

“the world-known hot-shot argentinian setter doesn’t sit the beauty standards?” you deadpan.

he nudges you with his elbow, “yes even the hot-shot setter, but I just want you to know that no one can always fit these standards, even me.”

“in fact, if you ask me,” he says standing up and pulling you in front of the mirror, “I think you’re the most irresistible, charming and alluring person I have ever laid my eyes on.”

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nczennie · 9 months

Text

be my baby.

Final Part of She's Like the Wind

Pairing: Reader x Stray Kid’s Lee Know AU: Summer love, based on the film Dirty Dancing Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff (18+ only) Preview: "I'm scared of my future, I'm scared that I've been lying to my parents,". Reaching just a foot away from him, you look up at him, "But most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room, of leaving this summer and never feeling my whole life, the way that I feel when I'm with you". Words: 10.1k *Warnings under cut

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of food, mentions of drug use and their effects, mentions of past overdose/death (not main character), smut scene (oral fem. receiving, unprotected penetrative sex)

It’s only a couple of hours later that you find yourself sneaking out the door of your room once again.

Once your dad made sure you were in the room you shared with your sister, he went next door to the one he shared with your mom. You waited until you felt it was long enough, taking off your makeup and changing into comfier clothes before sitting on your bed for a while in case he did come back in to check on you.

Taking the time in silence to think, you can't help but look back at your relationship with Minho. From his cold glares, teaching you to dance, to kissing, when he called you beautiful... It couldn't have been nothing could it? You refuse to believe that no matter how you started, that along the way he didn't feel anything for you even if it was just a fraction of what you felt for him.

Finally having enough of your thoughts, you walk as quickly as you can across the quiet resort, only the sounds of crickets in the grass under the moonlight keep you company. Making your way to your destination, you take a deep breath before knocking firmly on the door.

Minho opens the door shirtless, moving the shirt he held in his hands over his chest slightly to try to cover himself once he sees it's you. Clearly flustered, he lets you in without a word either way. He closes the door behind you before turning to busy himself tidying the small room he called home. You stare at his bare back, all this time you've spent touching it with dancing and learning the routine but you had never seen his muscles without a shirt. He clears his throat to speak up though he doesn’t turn to look at you, “Sorry about the mess. I know it’s not as nice as the room you must be staying in”. Your eyebrows furrow as you step closer to him, his back still the only thing in your view, “No, it’s perfect”.

A silence lulls between you both, only the soft music from his record player filling the space. You swallow nervously, “I’m really sorry Minho, about my father. About how he acted towards you”. The boy finally turns around, shaking his head at you, “No, he was amazing, helping Momo like that. I can’t thank you enough for bringing him out”. You open and close your mouth with a sigh, “No, it really wasn’t right to judge you like that, like you were the one at fault”. His mouth quirks at the edge for a split second, “Was he wrong though? Look, I can’t thank you enough for helping me, helping us, but you can’t be blind to the crowd of people we are. We’re not the people you usually surround yourself with, and maybe even it’s better if you don’t, your father knows that for sure”.

Suddenly feeling furious you clench your jaw to stop yourself from speaking irrationally, “Are you serious? Do you really think I’m the type of person to judge others based on miniscule actions like that? That I walk around thinking I’m better than everyone else because of how I grew up?” Minho gulps and averts his gaze as he notices the tears forming in your eyes, but you can’t control your emotion. You can’t believe after all this time he still thought of you as some sort of stuck-up princess.

Gaze, still averted, he speaks again, “I know you’re better than me,” he mumbles your name and before you can argue with him he continues his speech. “You're kind, you're always smiling like you still see the good in the world, cause you do. You-you got your whole life figured out, going to university and shit and not stuck working at some shithole hotel where you're looked down upon by everyone just because you don't have enough money!" His voice grows louder as he continues his rant, booming over the music in the room, throwing the shirt he was holding in his hands to the floor in frustration.

"That's not true! Minho I-" you raise your voice but he doesn't let you finish, continuing where he left off.

"And you're so brave," he says your name, "You're so brave helping us out like you have, some strangers who you rude to you, who judged you. Not once did you judge us, but gave us your time and money."

"I'm not brave," you finally get out, "I'm scared Minho".

Finally turning to look at you, he looks confused as if he couldn't understand what you could be scared of. "I'm scared," you state again taking tiny steps towards him, "I'm scared of my future, I'm scared that I've been lying to my parents,". Reaching just a foot away from him, you look up at him, "But most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room, of leaving this summer and never feeling my whole life, the way that I feel when I'm with you".

Your bottom lip trembles at your confession, at the silence that follows. It's so quiet you can hear the skip of the record, changing to play a new song.

Swallowing you decide you can't take the silence anymore, "Dance with me". You see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, before his hands make their way up to grab at your hips, pulling you flush against him. Your breath hitches but you quickly recover, moving your hands along his arms up to his bare shoulders. He takes the lead, much like the fateful night where he first taught you to dance. Now as you both move to the music, there is no intricate ballroom moves, just the sensual movement of your hips against each other, his breath fanning into your neck as you pull him closer to you.

Alone with him in his room, there is no longer the pressure of being able to dance as well as those around you. Instead you lose yourself in the music, lose yourself in Minho. The rhythm seems easy to follow, not trying to impress him but instead doing what feels right. You remove your hands from his shoulders, moving them up your neck and above your head as he dips you backwards, hips still moving against yours. Your mouth falls open with a small gasp as you feel him place a kiss on your chest where your tank top reveals your skin.

He continues to run his lips along your skin, up to your neck as he straightens you back up. Leaning your head to the right, you close your eyes as you take in the feeling of his soft lips on your neck. Eventually he smoothly runs his hands down from your hips to your ass, squeezing you and helping your move along him how he pleases.

You can't help the sound that leaves your mouth as you feel Minho everywhere as you dance together. He finally moves away from your neck, looking down at you with hooded eyes. Your eyes automatically close has he leans forward, but rather than kissing you, his lips merely brush yours as he speaks, "Is this okay?" Opening your eyes, you nod profusely, "Yes. Minho, please". Seemingly getting all the assurance he needs, he finally presses his lips against yours.

It starts as a gentle kiss, your hips still moving along to the music, but as soon as you move to run your tongue along his lips. He stops his dancing to put all of his focus on kissing you, both of his hands coming to grasp your jawline as he runs his tongue along yours. You can't help but moan into his mouth as he moves to push you into his bed frame.

You pull away to catch your breath but Minho continues to work on you. Kissing down your neck, collarbones, to your shoulder where he moves the strap of your top down. Once it's down he moves to your other shoulder, kissing it gently after moving the strap. You can feel as he hums against your skin, lips moving to the center of your chest where his hands come up to move your top down under your breasts, much easier with the straps out of the way.

He doesn't bother to remove your shirt all the way, instead focusing on your breasts just as they are. Throwing your head back as one of his hands moves to cup you, groping you softly as his mouth focuses on the other, his tongue warm and wet against your nipple.

Minho pulls his mouth away from you with a wet pop, "My pretty baby," he mumbles out, not stopping as he continues his way down your body. Moving the bottom of your shirt slightly upwards in order to place wet kisses on your stomach. He finally settles onto his knees on the ground between your legs. Humming against your hip bones, he moves to grab at your sleep shorts, hooking his fingers into the soft material to pull them down your legs.

You try not to think too hard about the cotton of your panties as you step out of the shorts and Minho throws them on the floor next to him. Though they don't seem to bother him as he moves forward once again to place open mouthed kisses to your covered mound. The wetness from his mouth seeping through the white material.

He runs his lips across your thigh and you can feel your face flush as he looks up at you, meeting your gaze. "Can I have you? Just like this?" His voice is soft but you nod right away, "Yes. Yes, Minho, I'm yours".

Without another word he turns his attention back on the white material, kissing and running his tongue along it before finally reaching up to remove it completely. You gulp as he drags them down your legs, tossing them to join your shorts. Your breath hitches as he grabs ahold of one of your legs, moving to place it atop his shoulder, granting him better access to you.

Minho moves without hesitance, moving forward to run his tongue completely along your wetness. You gasp at the feeling, stumbling a bit, using one of your hands to grab at the wood of his footboard. "Oh my gosh, Minho," you moan out as he continues to work on you. His tongue works quickly, running along you as he hums as if he were enjoying it at much as you were. You let out a cry as he moves the hand not holding your leg up to run along your folds, moving to spread you open holding you there in order for him to wrap his lips directly around your clit. Your other hand moves to grab onto his hair, running through and pulling on the softness in an attempt to ground your especially as your legs shake from the pleasure.

He moans into your core as you continue to pull at his strands, his tongue switching between running along you to flicking at your clit which causes your mouth to fall open. At his patterns you start to fall apart, toes curling, legs shaking as you struggle to hold yourself up with your grip on his bed. His grip tightens against your leg, moving to fully engulf you with his mouth to bring you to your end.

You eventually have to push him away from his attacks on your clit, whining as he finally pulls away leaving you sensitive. He places your leg softly on the ground and you swallow hard at the obvious wetness lingering on his lips and chin. Breathing still slightly uneven you watching as he moves to stand, attaching his lips to yours in another kiss as his hands round to grip you. Minho bends slightly in order lift you into his arms, moving the short distance to drop you on his bed. You land with a giggle, breasts bouncing on impact as they still hang out over your shirt.

Minho looks down at you from where he stands, a cross between an amused smile and smirk grazing his lips as he moves to remove his belt from his slacks. Sitting up on your forearms, you're able to watch him as he moves his belt, placing it on the chair before he unbuttons and removes his pants and underwear at the same time.

You gulp as you take in his length, it's already standing hard from before, his tip red and ready for your attention. He moves to join you on his bed, straddling over you, eyes wandering over your face. "I thought I could handle just having you with my mouth, but I was wrong. I want to take you completely". Your tongue wanders out to wet your lips, his gaze following before he speaks up, "I need you too, Minho, all of you". As you speak up, you take the chance to run one of your hands up his firm torso, eventually moving to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet you in an urgent kiss.

Minho kisses you back hard, his lips almost feel as if they're bruising as he pushes you flat onto your back. You stay kissing, intertwining tongues as he ruts slowly against you. Eventually his hand moves between you both in order to grip his length, guiding it to run over your folds. He glances at you one last time as if to see if you changed your mind, but at seeing no hesitation he pushes his cock into you, biting his lip at the feeling.

Letting out a strangled moan at the feeling of him stretching you out, you move your head to the side, your hands gripping his scratchy sheets. After you both adjust, Minho starts to move his hips, his slow pace speeding up to become more steady as he draws more noises of pleasure from you. "That's it, baby" he breathes as he lowers his body down and presses his chest against yours, still rocking his hips, "My pretty baby".

If there was any doubt before about Minho's skillful hips while dancing, there sure wasn't anymore as he expertly drove his hips into yours. Every thrust leaves you breathless and the drag of his chest over yours just leaves you more sensitive. He moves his left hand to grab ahold of your thigh, hoisting it over his hip to drive his cock even deeper into you.

You cry out at the feeling, your hands moving to grip onto his back, nails certainly leaving their mark on him. You can't help but clench around him as you near your end and he groans himself at the feeling. His grip on your thigh tightens as he speeds his pace up, looking to take you both to the end.

You cum with a sob of his name, your arms holding him close to you and his hips continue their fast pace. Whimpering at the sensitivity you wait patiently for him to come to his end, "Minho," you whisper in his ear, "Please, please cum for me." You're whining now as his hips begin to stutter, "You're so good, please Minho". He cums with a quiet moan, hand still gripping you almost painfully and the other braces himself on the bed as to not place all his weight atop of you.

There a few moments of silence, just the sound of you both catching your breath and the music from the record player still coming from the corner. He finally removes himself from you slowly, rolling to lay beside you, "Fuck, baby".

A smile quirks on your lips as you turn your head to look at him, his eyes close, eyebrows furrowed, and face still red. He crack an eye open as if he could feel you staring, "Just give me one moment," he mumbles out, pulling a blanket from the top of the bed to throw over you. "I promise I'll clean you up, I just need my ears to stop ringing first".

You laugh at him, content to just lay there beside him. Feeling safe and comfortable with Minho beside you. You end up staying the night with him, cuddled in his bed still listening to music and just talking. Talking about anything that came to mind. You reluctantly slip out of his housing just as the sun was rising, sneaking back to your room with a smile on your face as you finally get some sleep.

The summer trudges on and so does your time with Minho. Seeing as the performance was over, there was technically no need for you to see the boy anymore. But that didn't stop either of you from sneaking out at random parts of the day or night to see each other.

Dancing in empty rooms, swimming in the lake, loving each other between his sheets. He was your whole summer and more. There wasn't anyone else who knew the extent of your relationship. Not even Momo or Jeongin, not catching the sly glances you give each other when you come to the staff get togethers.

You were curious one early morning as you lay with Minho in his bed, both of you quietly listening to the record playing. Both bare underneath the blanket, you were cuddled to his chest, one of his arms around your shoulder, fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

"Have you had many women?" you finally ask.

"What?" He says after a moment ask if he didn't understand you, but you can hear the beat of his heart pick up under your ear. "Have you had many women?" You ask again, leaning up slightly to take in his face.

He gives you a confused look, "I-what? Why are you asking me that?" You chuckle at how nervous he's getting, you shrug, "I don't care how many if that's what you're thinking." You lean up on one arm, letting the blanket fall from your chest. Watching as he gulps, you speak again, "Earlier this summer Max kind of insinuated that there were some married women at the resort who look to have some fun with the workers. You were dancing with one, her name was Ruby".

Minho leans up on his arms, "Look, baby, I-" He pauses and you watch him, "I'm not judging you, Minho". You try to reassure him but he averts your gaze before talking again, "It's not something I'm proud of okay, being with a married woman. But there are some ladies who pay us workers to have extra fun. I know we shouldn't, it's wrong. But you don't understand what it's like to be tempted by money like that, cause you need it, cause you've never had it".

Nodding slowly you look around his room, you weren't sure what to say. Sure it was wrong but what right did you have to comment on anything dealing with money? That was made clear to you since the beginning.

"Have you," You start, till not meeting his gaze which you can feel on you face, "Have you since we-" "No" he doesn't let you finish as he understands. It hasn't been long since your first night together but you wouldn't know how to feel if he's been having others at the same time too.

But then again did you even have a right to ask him that? You weren't sure, there was never any labels or talk about what you both were. Perhaps because you both knew whatever this was would end with summer. The thought made you nauseous.

"I've always been single if I took up their offer, they may be betraying their husbands but I'm not the type to do that, to even think of that if I were seeing someone myself." He speaks up at your silence. Turning to look at him finally, you give him a small smile, pushing him back to lay down and laying yourself on his chest once again. Suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of having to leave him you just wanted to hold him as close as possible.

There's silence again, Minho taping along to the beat of the song playing and then he speaks again, "Remember how I told you it was always just me and my mom?"

You nod the best you can on his chest, not moving as he moves his hand to play with your hair. "She was a heavy drug user. My dad left us when I was very young and every since then she escaped with drugs".

You try to move to look at him but he uses his hand in your hair to keep you down, as if he wouldn't be able to tell you these things if he had to see you.

"That's where all of our money went, to her buying. I hated how she acted so that's why I took up dancing after school. It was so nice to be able to do something I enjoy and not have to think about anything at home". You start to rub circles on the side of his bare chest, wanting to at least do something to show you were listening.

"Once I got into high school, I made the wrong friends. I started using too, I thought my mom had been doing it forever so what the hell. But then one day," he starts but pauses when his voice trembles, "One day I came home after dance and I found her, my mom. She had overdosed."

"Minho-" You try to speak but he interrupts you, "No," he says, "Don't, please don't say anything". You gulp but listen to him. "Since that day I swore off that shit and vowed to never put someone through what she put me through. I moved in with Jeongin and his parents and got clean and continued dancing. After graduation Jeongin's dad found me a job using dance here and I've been here since."

No longer being able to ignore him, you sit up, frowning when you see tears streaming down his face. "It wasn't all bad though," he speaks giving a small smile, "Those bad friends I made in school, that's where I met Momo". You move to wipe his tears, "I wanted so badly to help her, I made her join dance with me. That's how we became partners. But she's always been up and down. Especially now with her jackss boyfriend, ruining all her progress".

You make him sit up so you can pull him into a hug. No wonder he had acted the way he did at the party when the worker offered you something. And with Momo, you didn't know he had been trying for years to help her and yet your father acted like it was his fault she was even in that position.

Pulling him tighter you finally speak, "Lee Minho, you're strong and amazing and your friends are so lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have met you this summer".

You pull away slightly to place a soft kiss on both of his cheeks, the taste of his tears lingering on your lips.

He brings a hand up to cup your face, gently running his thumb over your cheek before placing a kiss there. "I think I'm the lucky one".

You enjoy your quiet time with Minho, that's how the two of you had started and been since. Just the two of you, seemingly in your own world, away from the reality of your relationship.

Maybe that's why neither of you made an effort to tell the extent of your relationship to anyone else. Not even Jeongin or Momo knowing that you two continued to see each other outside of the staffing parties they invited you to.

Having your secret meant no one could remind you that summer would end soon, that Minho seemed to hate you at first, that your father seemed to hate him.

Instead you both could hide away from it all, him continuing to teach you dances and spending time in his room. Soaking in all the time you could before it was over.

You had been dancing with Minho between some of his classes and now he was walking you back to the main lounge where you were to meet your family for lunch. Laughing beside him as he tells a story of when Jeongin had gotten drunk last night, you keep your eyes on the dirt path. The path taking you through the trees until making it to the sidewalk of the main resort.

Almost reaching the sidewalk, you pause when you hear some familiar voices. Your eyes widen when you see your dad, sister, and Chan walk out of the building straight ahead of you. Panicking, you quickly push Minho off of the path and against a near tree, ignore the "What the fuck" coming out of his mouth as you try to hide both of you from their view.

You gulp, pushed against Minho as you keep an eye on your family. "Chan," your dad speaks, "Thank you for the tour, why don't you join us for lunch?" Chan seems to hesitate, "Oh, I'm not sure, I wouldn't want to intrude". Your sisters speaks next, "C'mon Chan, you don't work till later". "Obviously it would make Daisy happy," you dad joins, "Plus you can continue telling me about your university". You watch as Chan eventually agrees, your dad putting his arm around him as the three of them continue on the sidewalk to the lounge.

Letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, you step away from Minho, only to look up and see the boy giving you a dark look. "Sorry," you gulp, "My family," you start but trail off not even sure how to continue the sentence.

Minho hums, throwing his hands in his pockets. You stare at him, unsure of what to say. "You know my dad doesn't know about us, and if he did-" you try to talk but Minho cuts you off with a scoff. "Of course, can't let him know you're with the guy who gets his friends into drugs".

"Minho, no. That's not-" But he doesn't listen, only talks more, "It's fine, it's true. I'll never be like the waiter. Chan and his perfect past and attending university. That's the kind of boy he wants for his daughters".

Reaching to grab him, you want to get him to listen, to let you explain, but he moves back away from your touch. "Look, I know we weren't exactly telling everyone about us but I also didn't expect you to make me hide behind a tree to avoid your family from seeing us together". Your throat tightens and tears between to prick at your eyes, "Please, Minho"

But the boy moves to walk, groaning and running his hand over his face, "I knew it, I knew this is what would happen." He shakes his head, "I'm just a fool to believe I have anything you need".

He turns, going to walk back to where you both came from and you try once more to call out his name. But he just continues to walk and you don't chase him.

Guilt fills your body the next couple of days, you know now that you never should have made Minho hide the way you did. That even knowing how your dad would react, you should have stood up for him. Told your dad what an amazing guy Minho is, that no matter what he would say it wouldn't stop your feelings for him.

But instead you let Minho believe he was no good for you, something he had already told you he thought before this started. How would you be able to recover from this?

You spend the the days looking for Minho, to try to apologize to him, but you can't seem to get him alone. Even when joining Jeongin at the parties, Minho wasn't in attendance. Not quite sure what to do, you feel desperate as you trudge to the staff housing one afternoon.

Knocking at the door you wait a second before it opens, "Hey!" Momo greets, "What are you doing here?" She looks as if she's in the middle of getting ready. You swallow, licking your lips, "I'm sorry, do you have a second to talk?". She purses her lips but nods opening the door, "I have a shift soon but you can talk while I do my makeup".

Taking a seat at the end of her bed you watch as she starts her stage makeup at her small vanity. "Minho and I have the after-dinner shift in the dancing lounge tonight". You nod, swallowing before speaking, "How is Minho?" "He's good, I guess. One of the other dancers has been out for the week so he's been taking his shifts as well". You don't know how to reply, don't know how to tell her what you came here for.

"Are you okay?" she asks, looking at your through the mirror, taking a break from applying her eye shadow. You avert your gaze to your lap, "Momo, do you remember when I told you that I liked Minho?" You can hear her turn around in her seat to look at you. "Well I believe that Minho liked me too".

Looking up to meet her confused gaze, you continue her story, "Since the night of the performance we-I mean he kissed me. He called me beautiful. And ever since that night, we've been...together and it's been so amazing and I-I think I love him Momo". You sigh, tears coming to your eyes as you confront your feelings.

The girl only looks at you blankly, examining your face. "Look," she finally says, "Is there, I mean have you, are you paying Minho?" You look at her in shock and disgust, she must think you're like those married women who pay for the company of the dancers. That Minho being with you has to only do with your money but you fell for him anyways.

"No!" you state, "No, there is no money. You must know we've been dancing together this whole time and it happened. I'm not paying him to sleep with me!" You become frustrated. It seems that no matter what you do, your money will follow you. Minho thinks he's not good for you because of it and now Momo thinks Minho is only with you because of it.

"I'm sorry," she states as she watches your tears start to spill from your eyes, "I was just asking, I didn't mean anything". You shake your head feeling deflated in the place you came for help. "I have to go," you stand and walk to the door as she calls out your name. You ignore her, leaving the room and heading to walk to the main resort trying to wipe your tears.

As you sniffle along the path, you hear someone call your name in the distance. Looking up, you see Jeongin waving at you, a large basket in one of his hands.

You walk to meet him, his big smile falling off his face when he can clearly seen you've been crying. "Are you okay?" he asks and you shake your head, tears starting to fall once more. "Here come help me fold these napkins".

Following him to the outdoor restaurant you stand beside him in silence, watching as he teaches you the proper way to fold the dinner napkins. Moments of quiet follow before he speaks up now that you've seemed to calm, "Will you tell me what happened?"

You huff, paying attention to the white cloth in your hands. "Minho," you finally say. He pauses his folding to look at you, "Minho?" You nod, avoiding his gaze but you finally let yourself speak. You tell Jeongin about the lake, about the night of the performance, of all the times after you and Minho were together, dancing and talking and loving. And of course you tell him about what you did to him when you saw your dad.

Jeongin takes in the story in silence, and you let him process as he must be so confused not having a clue about you and his cousin. "You see," he finally says, "Minho as had a really hard past". He looks at you confused when you nod, "He told me, about his mom". He looks shocked, "He told you?" You nod grabbing another napkin as he continues to look at you. "I was going to say that because of his hard past Minho can be really reserved, it takes him awhile to open up to people, that's why he seems so cold. But it seems you must be something special for him to tell you his story".

Looking up sadly at him, you confess, "I love him, Jeongin". He merely looks, at you, mouth quirking. "I know it's not ideal, with summer ending and all and I'll be leaving but I can't help it. I love him. I love him and I ruined it by making him think he's not enough for me".

Jeongin shakes his head, finally reaching to fold his napkin. "I know it's hard for you too. You have a great relationship with your family so it feels wrong to keep something secret from them no matter how much it means to you". It's true, you had been so scared to be keeping this secret from them, even just when you and Minho were strictly dancing. You had never lied to them before and now you were scared how it would effect your relationship.

"It was a mistake," You confess, "I never should've made Minho doubt himself or how I feel for him. I want to tell him this, to tell him that I love him. But I can't find him and now telling you this or telling Momo it just makes me seem like I shouldn't. That I should just leave him alone".

He sighs, "You know him and Momo's past, she was just trying to look after him like he always does for her". "She probably hates me for making Minho feel this way" you say but Jeongin makes a noise, "That's not true, she's protective but once she sees how you truly feel for him she's understand".

You grumble, "I just need Minho to understand".

That night after dinner you find yourself walking back to your room with your sister. You stifle a yawn as she drags on about why she thinks red lipstick will be out of style soon. Your parents have stayed in the lounge to watch a jazz show but you and Daisy insisted on going back to the room, you're exhausted from your draining day.

You stand in front of the elevator waiting for it to pick you up and take you to your floor. Daisy hums along the the quiet music playing in the hallways and you look down to your feet, moving them slightly and remembering random steps Minho has taught you.

The elevator opens with a ding and you hear Daisy gasp beside you, looking up your eyes widen to see the elevator was not empty. Your stomaching dropping and your chest tightening in a way that makes you feel sick. "Oh, sorry" Daisy giggles slightly embarrassed as your eyebrows furrow.

Inside the elevator is Minho, still dressed in his dancing suit, hands on the hips of another woman, her lips pressing into his neck before she notices you both. She turns to apologize and you recognise her immediately, Ruby. The married woman that was dancing with Minho that fateful night when you first found Momo. The woman Max explained that would get more than dance lessons with the money her husband gave to her.

You ignore as Ruby apologizes to your sister, eyes not leaving Minho's brown ones as he realizes it's you. Your lips begin to tremble, throat burning as you urge your tears to not fall. His lips open and close a couple of times, but his face tells you nothing, blank as it's always been.

Averting your gaze as he and Ruby move out of the elevator and you and your sister take their place. Daisy pushing the button to your floor, the doors closing finally blocking your view of them.

Now that you're finally out of their view you let out a cry, an ugly sob at seeing Minho with another woman. Your sister seems to panic beside you, asking if you're okay but you can't bring yourself to talk. Just trying to calm yourself as she wraps her arms around you.

An hour later you have managed to stop your crying and clean up for bed. You lay now under the comfort of the blankets, gazing at your sister who sits on her own bed across from you. It's silent besides the flipping of her pages of the magazine she looks through.

"Daisy," you call to her, "Are you sad to have to leave Chan soon?"

She purses her lips and looks to you, "Of course I am. We've spent so much time together here. But I know we will see each other more." She sounds confident, "His university is closer to the city so I will easily be able to see him".

Swallowing you decide to ask another question, "Do you love him?"

The small lap beside her bed illuminates the redness that comes to her cheeks. "Yes, I believe I do. That's what makes it so much harder to leave him".

The sinking feeling suddenly returns to your stomach and you turn your body around to face the wall, having enough sister gossiping for the night. You think of what Daisy says, that it will be harder to leave Chan because she loves him. You already had no doubt that it would hurt to leave Minho, but could it hurt worse than this? Hurt more than seeing him with another woman in the elevator? Hurt worse than having him think you believed he wasn't enough for you?

You weren't sure which will cut you deeper but it is clear that this summer will leave you with scars you will never be able to forget.

At this point there were only a couple of days before you and your family left the resort and returned home to the city. Summer was coming to an end and soon your experience here will just be memories.

You sit at lunch now with your family and Chan. Chan explaining to you all about the final show that the resort hosts. There is to be a large dinner in the lounge, everyone dressed in their best attire, and all of the talent staff gets to perform for them.

"It's amazing really," Chan says excitedly, "We have such amazing musicians, singers, and dancers here and they all work really hard to put on one last grand show for the guests". Your mom and sister smile excitedly at the news, already planning what to wear. Your own ears perk up as well, will this mean you will get to watch Minho dance once final time?

You recall the first time you saw him dance, partnered with Momo as the two best dancers you have ever seen. Nothing quite captivated you like their dancing and you find yourself hoping to witness it one more time.

"Chan is friends with some of the singers that are going to perform," Daisy tells you all excitedly, "He actually has an amazing voice himself but he has to work on serving the guests so he isn't able to perform". Chan blushes at the attention your family gives him, "Oh, no no I think I would be too shy to perform anyways, but one of my best friends Seungmin works as a singer here. His voice is truly out of this world".

Your mom excitedly explains she remembers Chan's friend from his performance in the gazebo last week. Suddenly your dad speaks up as he swirls his wine glass, "It's good you have some friends that work with you Chan. But just make sure you stick with the right crowd, son. I know there are employees here that don't make the right decisions and I would hate for a good kid like you to get mixed up in that".

You freeze as he talks, putting your fork down as you feel your rage start to fill your body. Chan only nervously chuckles but you know exactly what your father is talking about. The night he helped Momo is obviously clear in his brain and he still holds a deep judgement for everyone that was there. Perhaps even you.

"My friends are not for you to judge, daddy". You speak to your father across from you.

Everyone stops what they're doing to look at you. Clearly shocked as you were never one to speak up, especially if it meant speaking against your father. He puts his drink down, "Excuse me?" You swallow hard trying not to lose your confidence. "I know what you're implying by what you said, but you have no right to judge them. They are my friends and they are some of the greatest people I have ever met."

Your father's gaze hardens and you can see out of the corner of your eyes that your mother reaches out to grab his arm, "I have every right to judge them," he says your name firmly, "You dragged me to help with the mess that they made. No one ends up in those situations if they make the right decisions".

Clenching your jaw your try to chose your words carefully, "I never would have expected my father to be a man who judges those on such miniscule things. I thought he was better than that".

Your sister looks at you wide eyed before your mother shouts your name, no one pleased with your words. Your father merely keeps your gaze for another moment before he leaves the table without another word.

Your mother calls your name, "How could you speak to your father in such a way?" She looks worried but the rage you felt is still strong. "I am merely sticking up for those that I love".

Hours later and you have cooled off enough to attempt to find your father. After guidance from your mother, you were able to find him sitting alone under a gazebo, seeking shelter from the rain that had started falling.

You move to wordlessly sit next to him but he doesn't even make an attempt to look at you. After a moment of nothing but the sound of rain falling, he finally speaks, "Is that where my money went?"

Looking at him confused, you weren't sure what to say so he speaks again, "When you claimed you had a friend who needed money to get home, is this where it went instead? For them to buy drugs?"

Your eyes widen, "No! Of course not, daddy! You don't understand," you turn in your seat to face him, "That money was for her, but it was for her to enter a program to break her addiction. But that night her boyfriend came and stole that money and caused that mess".

"Her boyfriend?" he questions, "One of those two who were waiting with you outside?". A panicked feeling rises in your chest as you feel you have to hurriedly defend your friends as quickly as possible. "No! Daddy, you have it all wrong. Those guys are Minho and Jeongin, they are her friends and they are the ones who are desperately trying to help her break her addiction!"

Your father only stays silent. You weren't sure what you were expecting, maybe for him to apologize for the misunderstanding, to offer to fix the way he acted towards them. But you're starting to see now that maybe your father is no longer the man you admired since you were a young girl.

"You know I'm starting to think it was a mistake to let you move into a dorm when you go to university this fall, we should look into you staying at home instead" He turns back to face the view of the lake once again, "I'm disappointed in you," he says your name.

Eyes watering as you realize this is forever the turning point in your relationship, "Well I'm disappointed in you too, daddy"

He turns his head quickly to look at you, seemingly more shocked at your words than upset. You will yourself to continue your speech even as your voice wavers, "My whole life I believed you were the greatest man in the world. I looked up to you and thought you could do no wrong. I thought you were the kindest man alive who was eager to help those around him. But now I can see that I'm wrong".

He says your name but you continue to speak your mind, not even bothering to wipe the tears that have fallen down your face, "I'm not your little girl anymore, daddy. I'm an adult who can make my own decisions, and live with my own mistakes. I'm sorry I didn't turn out into the perfect daughter you always dreamed of me being". You finally let out your emotions, feeling a huge weight being lifted that you have felt for years.

This summer wasn't the first time your father made you feel this way but it finally opened your eyes and allowed you to act on it. You don't know what'll happen between you two now, but you find comfort in the fact that you voiced what you really feel to him.

At the end of your speech you get up and make your way to the walking path, not bothering to look back at your father.

You walk the long way through the heavy rain, not even feeling bothered by how soaked you were getting. Now you walked with a mission after the adrenaline from speaking with your father still lingered in your brain.

Making your way to your destination without much thought, you were suddenly knocking on Minho's door. Hoping he would open it and hoping he would even let you in after seeing it was you.

The door suddenly opens and Minho stands there eyes widening when he sees it's you, "What are you doing here, it's pouring" He gestures for you to come inside. You watch as he closes the door behind you and moves to grab a towel as a change of clothes. You hadn't seen him since the incident with your family and your heart thuds loudly at the sight of him.

"Here you need to change quickly" he avoids eye contact but hands you a towel along with a shirt and pants that were his. You move behind a screen he has set up and dry yourself and change, listening as you can hear him move to the record player and starts some music.

You set your wet clothes over the screen to dry and see Minho sitting on the edge of his bed. He's wearing a black tank top and slacks like the many many times where he has taught you to dance. Taking a chance, you move to sit beside him and when it doesn't move away you relax a little.

Thunder booms in the distance and your hand twitches in your lap, wanting nothing more than to reach over and hold onto the man you have come to love. But suddenly the image of him in the elevator with Ruby comes to mind so you squeeze your own hands together instead.

"I spoke to my father today," you start as you stare at your hands, "I had grown up thinking he was the best man in the world but after hearing him talk badly about you and Momo I realized the wasn't the case. For the first time in my life I spoke up". You can feel his gaze burning into your face but your own eyes stay planted to your lap.

"He's your father, baby" Minho speaks, the nickname rolling off his tongue before he can help it, "He only wants best for his daughter, you can't blame him for wanting better for his daughter than to be caught up in a crowd like that".

"No!" you reply, frustrated because he doesn't understand, "You don't get it Minho. "All of my life I have merely been a projection of his idea of a perfect daughter. Everything I have ever done is because he wanted me to." You sniffle and quickly wipe your tears, "This summer was the first time I have truly felt like I have made my own choices. I chose to be friends with Jeongin. I chose to help Momo. I chose to love you". Your voice falters in the end.

A silence follows but you decided not to dwell on it, "The point is that for the first time in my life I spoke out against my father. I defended Momo, I defended you, I defended myself." you look up to the roof to try to stop your tears.

"My father had no right to judge you and I made sure to tell him that. He had no right to make your feel so low about yourself," you pause for a second, "I had no right to make you feel that way, Minho. I regret nothing more than making you believe like you weren't enough for me. I was just a scared little girl who was afraid of her father. But I know now that he wasn't worth making you feel that way about yourself".

Sobs begin to wreck your body and Minho stands to grab tissues from his dresser. He returns to his seat next to you, handing you one tissue while he keeps the other help to dry your tears. One hand strokes your hair as he waits for your to calm down.

Just as you finally catch your breath your reminded of the image of him and Ruby so you speak again, "I'm sorry," you sniffle, "I just didn't want to leave this summer having you think I felt that way about you. Even though you haved moved on, please just know I truly love you Minho, and you were more than enough for me".

Minho frowns as you attempt to stand from his bed, "Hey, what are you doing?" He questions, standing and grabbing your forearms to face him. You shake your head, "I know Minho. And I know you saw me too, with the elevator, and Ruby".

He gulps, "It's not-" he pauses closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "It's not like that okay". You swallow, "I saw you both with my own eyes".

"Okay, I was upset. When I was working my shift and when Ruby offered me money like all the times before I followed her to her room," You avert your gaze not knowing if you wanted to hear the details he was sharing. "But she had leaned in to kiss me and I couldn't do it. I pulled away before she could and told her I couldn't She offered me double but I still refused. When you saw us in the elevator she was walking me back down so I could leave, she kept grabbing me and kissing my neck to try and change my mind but I was grabbing her to remove her from me".

Looking at him once again, you can't lie to say you didn't feel relieved at hearing the truth, "Really?" You ask just to make sure and he nods, "I told you before I don't do that if I'm taken and no matter what happened I can't stop thinking about you".

You gulp taking in the darkness of his eyes. "So you really defended me in front of your father?" He smirks and you shake your head with a small laugh, "Yes, and I would do it a million times more. I wish I was strong enough to do it before".

He runs his hands up and down your arms, "It's been hard for me to accept that I am good enough to have you, we are so different in every way. But I have come to love you so much that I'm afraid no matter what I can't let you go".

Eyes widening you look up to meet his gaze, "Did you say love?"

His smirk only deepens, eyebrows raised as he replies to you, "Yeah, didn't you say you loved me too? Or did I misunderstand?"

Quickly wrapping your arms around him, you pull him into a tight hug, "Minho, I love you. I don't want to leave". His arms wrap around you just as tightly as he begins to rock you both back in forth. "It'll be okay," he says your name softly, "We'll figure something out".

Unfortunately the night of the final dinner has arrived. It was your last night at the resort and tomorrow morning you would be packing to leave. You sit at a dinner table in the longue with your family, enjoy the show that the talented workers put on.

Just a dessert was served they announced the performance of two talented dancers and you smile widely as Momo and Minho take the stage. "Those are my friends," you say proudly to your family and your mother and sister watch with interest as your dad huffs. Although things are still strained with your dad, the two of you have at least starting talking to each other once more. There's a part of you that hoped he was starting to realize that he was the one is the wrong.

The whole crowd watches in awe at the professional dances that Minho and Momo perform. Their routine include difficult moves that impressed everyone, including the lift you had begged Minho not to include when you were doing your own routine in the beginning of the summer.

You clapped loudly as it came to an end, even standing to show your support. The whole crowd roared and even your mom and sister cheered loudly, clearly impressed.

Quickly excusing yourself from the table, you make your way to where they would come off stage. Smiling brightly as they made their way down the stairs, "You guys were so amazing! It feels like it's been so long since I saw the two of you dance together". They smile back at you, Momo pulling you into a hug. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me this summer," she whispers in your ear and you squeeze her. Starting next week she will start attending the rehab your dad had recommended. You wished her luck and she pulls away, "I better see you again next summer".

You chuckle as she walks away, reaching your hand out to grasp Minho's. You hear someone call your name and you turn to see Jeongin making his way over to you with a big smile. Letting go of Minho's hand you pull the younger boy into a big hug, "I'll miss you" you tell him laugh as he spins you around, "Maybe Minho can bring you over to my house something," You nod. Jeongin will be going back to his parents house, attending school until next summer came around.

"I would love that," you say and give him one last squeeze before he has to return to work. Finally to turn back to Minho, "You were so amazing up there, I will never get tired of watching you dance". He chuckles but you can see the redness of his ears. He pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead. Reaching for his hand once again you pull him towards the table where your family sat. Your sister smirks while your mom wears a curious expression, you didn't need to look to see your father had his jaw clenched.

"Everyone," you say, holding onto Minho's arm with both hands, "This is Minho". They give you a questioning look but your mother urges him to take a seat nonetheless.

He bashfully thanks her before taking the seat between you and Daisy. There is a beat of silence but you smile at him to attempt to ease his nerves. "Do you know Chan by chance? He works as a waiter?" Your sister speaks eager to break the quietness.

Minho nods clearly his throat, "I don't see him often but he's very kind". Your mother speaks up next, cutting into her cake. "I know Chan only works here during the summer, is this only a summer job for you too?"

Your father seems to perk up, eyeing him to hear his answer which makes Minho nervous. You grab his hand under the table and give it a squeeze. "That's right, it's pretty slow here the rest of the year. I only work here for summer but the rest of the time I work at another hotel dancing, as well as working at a nearby gas station". He turns to look at you and you give him a reassuring nod. He speaks again, "Although I'm going to start taking classes at the community college here in town this fall".

"Oh? Is that right? What are you planning to study?" You mother gives a smile and Minho blushes, "Childhood education".

The table pauses, as if they didn't hear him right. "Minho, is a wonderful dancer as well as a wonderful dance teacher". You boost for him.

"That makes sense, you were so amazing up there" You sister praises him. He licks his lips, silently thanking her as he reverts his eyes, never one to take compliments so easy. "It's my dream to open a dance academy for kids in school. Dancing helped me as a young kid when I was going through hard times so I would love to provide the same opportunity to others".

You can't keep the smile off your face as Minho explains, so proud of the man that you love. Daisy and your mother gush over him and his plan and urge him to eat some of the many desserts they served the table with.

Some time later you decided to take a walk with Minho, "I'll be back". you say as you and Minho stand. Your mother and sister bidding him farewell.

Suddenly the sound of a moving chair screeches and your eyes widen to see your father has stood up along with you. The three of you stand in shock for a moment before your father moves, reaching his hand out to Minho, "It was nice to meet you. I wish you luck on your schooling as well as your future plans".

It's simple but it makes you smile. He had finally realized he was the one in the wrong.

Minho thanks him profusely and they two of you finally make your way out of the lounge hand in hand. The two of you walk the path outside, taking in the stars and you swing your arms back and forth.

You can't lie that you were terrified to leave Minho tomorrow. The future seemed so unclear without being in the same resort, being hours away from each other instead. But you both promised each other to visit one another when you had the chance.

It'll be hard you know, but you think for Minho anything would be worth it. Worth it to see him accomplish his dreams, worth it to be with the man you love.

"What a crazy summer" Minho speaks, and you laugh, "I never would have imagined my summer would have gone like this". He agrees with a hum, "Do you regret it?" You quickly shake your head, "Never. Even if in fifty years from now you decided you no longer love me, I will never forget this summer and everything you did for me. You helped me more than you can imagine".

Minho wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest, "I think we helped each other, baby".

You reach to place a kiss to his jaw, "I love you, Minho".

He stops walking to place a hand on your jaw, bringing you in for a slow kiss. Pecking you several times after which leaves you giggling as he pulls away, "I love you, baby".

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