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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

spellbound

pairing: jimmy page x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of substances, one (1) swear and a little nsfw at the end

words: 3k

summary: when in new orleans, there’s always something new and exciting to experience. when the boys take shelter in a quaint jazz lounge, they discover a hidden gem.

author’s note: this was an idea born from @timetraveller4 and her lovely mind, so thank you for that ash <3 no beta as always, and i really hope you enjoy :)

masterlist

It was Bonzo’s idea, originally.

The drummer had proposed that the band, accompanied, of course, by the infamous Richard Cole, go to a lounge for the night. See what the music scene was like, outside of their little bubble.

Touring had become almost monotonous, the endless flow of groupies blending into a hazy background of alcohol and drugs. They were in New Orleans for the night, and needed a release from the antics; a release of pressure.

Walking along the cobbled streets, lit only by tall, blinding streetlights, the hunt for the perfect spot continued. Rain twinkled like stardust upon them, landing in their hair and falling down their backs. Jimmy shivered, burrowing further into his coat, a rich navy blue, butterflies made of sparkling sequins fluttering across his shoulders. Cigarette dangling from lush, pink lips, he sighed out a faint white cloud of smoke. His long, dark hair stuck to his face and neck, and a swear burst past his lips. His curls hid emerald eyes from view like a curtain of darkness, and he shook his head.

It’ll be fun, he said. Don’t worry about it, he said. Just relax.

Robert, unaware of the glare the raven-haired guitarist was sporting, strolled ahead, eyes catching on a glowing sign, slick with rain and slightly weather-beaten. The place must be old, he thought.

Sliding closer, he gazed up at it, ocean eyes squinting against the rain that seemed to pour harder, faster, the further they ventured from their hotel. The sign, neon lights blurring into haloes of colour, read ‘The Whispering Wind’. Underneath sat a truly artistic rendition of wispy winds fading into a cloud, the pure ivory of its light cascading across the damp sidewalk like a graceful stream. You could almost feel the warmth and hospitality behind the closed doors, and Robert, whose smile seemed to light the path better than any streetlamp could, turned to his companions.

“This looks like a fine place, doesn't it?”

“Let’s go inside. Better than staying out here,” Jonesy replied, slipping past the singer to grasp at the ornate golden handle of the mahogany door. The bassist pulled the door open and stepped through, and almost immediately, he was enveloped by the comforting heat that seemed to settle into his chilled bones. “Definitely better.”

One by one, the boys stepped into the lounge, smiling as they took in the atmosphere. By the door sat a long bar, maple wood shining in the dim light filtering out from the fixtures hanging from above. Paintings of old Hollywood royalty decorated the taupe walls, while a spotlight affixed to the ceiling bathed the wooden surface of the stage against the wall in faint yellow light. The ruby red of the curtains complimented the exposed maroon brick of the opposite wall, and booths, with scarlet upholstery streaked through with pristine gold, littered the floor.

It was cramped and dimly lit, certainly not fit for the rock gods it sheltered. It was perfect.

Jimmy stood just outside the door, taking a final drag of the cigarette burning between his lips. Glancing around the cove of the entryway, his eyes locked onto a poster plastered across the wet brick of the building. The silhouette of a woman stood against a simple black background, gripping a microphone stand in manicured hands, mystery and class in the subtle curve of her lips. Half of her body was painted in a silvery light, and Jimmy stared at the long crimson dress she was wearing. Tantalizingly long legs are just visible from the slit that splits the gown.

In bold white lettering, a collection of dates are scrawled across its surface, but it’s the name that rippled across the paper that caught his eye.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Hm…”

Must be tonight’s performer, he thought. She’s gorgeous, from what Jimmy could tell; the sultry gaze, the teasing uptick of her rosy lips. The guitarist just hoped that she’s as talented as she is beautiful.

Jimmy let the cigarette in his hands drop to the floor, crushing it under his heel, smoky ash mingling with the scent of petrichor. Grasping the frigid metal of the door handle, the man’s ebony curls flew in every direction as he shivered once more. Slipping through the open door, a wave of comfort rushed over him, warmth settling into his core. The light din of unimportant conversation settled over him like a plush blanket, calming his perpetually racing mind.

Jimmy, spotting his friends at a table far back from the stage, sidled up to the bar, signalling for attention. Ordering his favourite of gin and tonic, the dark-haired guitarist walked back over to join the group, sitting down right next to Robert. The blond glanced over at him and grinned, wrapping a tanned arm around his shoulders.

“It’s a wonder you’ve stopped frowning, Pagey.”

“I was warned I’d get stuck like that, you see,” Jimmy grumbled, the hint of a smile that graced his lips shattering the image of dissatisfaction. “Hasn’t happened yet, but who knows what the future holds.”

“Ah. If it weren’t for your sunny disposition, we’d be in trouble.”

“You—”

The retort died on his tongue, and his mossy green eyes went impossibly wide.

An alluring voice, smooth and rich, rang clear and sharp through the air, charming the patrons of the lounge. The rasping tone made Jimmy’s mind go utterly blank, too entranced to react. Mingling with the droplets that danced from the black grand piano, the performer made his heart pound in his chest like a bass drum. Shaking Robert’s arm off, he turned to face the stage, and promptly forgot how to breathe.

“I put a spell on you, because you're mine. Oh, mine…”

Up on the stage, stood the most beautiful woman Jimmy had ever seen. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, a lovely contrast to the skin of her exposed shoulder. The woman fluttered around the stage, her dress, the colour of a midnight sky, swaying as she moved. She was full to the brim with restrained confidence: she knew she could dazzle the audience, but really, she didn't need to. They were already eating out of her palm.

Jaws hit the floor and every eye in the room was firmly trained on her, and the graceful smirk painting her features served as proof. She was a siren, and the audience her doomed admirers. Jimmy couldn't tear his eyes away through the whole performance, and his distracted clapping as she curtsied alerted his bandmates.

“You okay, Jim? Looks to me like,” Bonzo started, glancing over at Robert with mischief shining in his dark eyes, “You’ve got yourself a little crush, no?”

“I’m… She’s just—”

“Perfect? Gorgeous, talented,” Jonesy interrupted, catching the guitarist’s attention. A smug grin at home on his lips, the bassist shrugged, turning to face his friend. “And… standing right over there.”

Following the path pointed out by Jonesy’s outstretched finger, Jimmy’s eyes locked on a familiar figure, floor-length gown shimmering in the dim light. Stood at the bar, she rested her arms on the surface as she leaned closer to talk to the bartender. Throwing her head back in a genuine laugh, she bares her throat, and Jimmy’s mouth goes dry. The performer takes the drink offered to her, a glass filled with what looks to be whiskey in her manicured hands. A finger lazily traced the rim. The beautiful woman turned towards them then, locking eyes with the guitarist over her shoulder. She winked, and walked away, a ring of condensation on the tabletop all that was left of her.

“Hey, Cole,” Jimmy whispered into the silence that had fallen over the table, and turned to the man, whose only response was a telling smirk. “Would you… Could you, uh…”

“On it, boss.”

In a split second, the man shuffled away from the table, his parting gift a wink at the sable-haired guitarist.

------

As you step on stage, the crowd’s chatter continues, and you smile to yourself. Nights at The Whispering Wind were always like this: the snippets of conversation fading into a symphony of white noise. It calms you, being so used to the bustling New Orleans streets. This is a little slice of paradise, in your eyes.

You flatten down your dress, velvet soft against your hand, and gaze over to your pianist. Nodding back, he launches in, soft at first, but crescendoing soon after. His hand raised in the air, he looks over to you.

Your cue.

You take a deep breath, lungs filling with smoky air, and sing your heart out. Light and shade battle for dominance as you play the audience like a fiddle. Your voice, full of lust and desire, floats around the room, and you smirk to yourself, looking at the sea of faces in front of you. Everything is hazy, the spotlights blurring your vision, but you can swear someone is staring at you. A man, it looks like. His dark hair shines in the faded light, and his eyes sparkle with intelligence and, interestingly enough, appreciation. It takes effort to tear your eyes away from him, but you succeed, and belt out the last line. Your smile rivals the bright lights shining down on you, and you curtsy. The cheers of the audience serves as your soundtrack, as you step off stage, scurrying over to the bar. It takes a special effort not to gaze at the mystery man as you pass.

“Lovely evening for a drink, isn’t it? I’ll have whiskey, neat.”

“Coming right up, Madam,” The bartender winks at you, a smile blossoming on your face. He sets the drink into your waiting hands, and leans against the counter, smirking at you kindly. “Wonderful show, tonight. You’re a talent, my dear.”

“Well, thank you,” you reply, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. Your smile grows brighter, and your giggle is featherlight as it floats past your lips, “It’s what I love to do.”

Your conversation is interrupted by the sounds of whispers from behind you, and you look over your shoulder. Those eyes, the bright shade of green you had seen from the stage, were looking right back at you. He looks shy, nervous even, almost hiding behind his tawny-haired friend. From your spot at the bar, you can tell, now, just how handsome he truly is. His dark hair falls in tastefully mussed curls, and his skin looks clear, almost like porcelain. His lips are petal-pink, and look soft. His jaw is sharp, and he’s rather thin; scrawny even, but he’s still gorgeous.

Holding his gaze, you wink, and his eyes go impossibly wider. You tip the bartender and walk away, a “thank you” thrown over your shoulder. A safe distance away from the mystery man and his posse, you chance a look back, and spot a man standing from the table, patting the black-haired beauty on the back. To your surprise, he weaves through the crowd towards you.

“Excuse me, Miss,” he says, catching up to you. He smooths down his button-up shirt, and sends a charming grin your way, holding out a hand to shake. “May I ask your name?”

“It’s Y/N. And yours, if I may?”

“Richard Cole.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Cole?” This is met by a chuckle from the man, his hand going up to stroke his dark beard.

“Well, lovely, do you see that man over there, with the black hair?” You follow his outstretched hand, and your eyes fall upon your mystery man. He’s looking back at you, hands fiddling with each other. His gaze finally drops from yours, and the tell-tale blush rising on his cheeks makes you laugh softly. “He’d love to have a chat with you.”

“If he wants to talk to me, he can come over here himself and tell me that.”

Cole chuckles, and shakes his head fondly. Glancing over at the mystery man, he waves him over. From your spot, you can see the way he approaches on shaky legs, and you smile, recognizing him instantly. With a pat on the back of the curly-haired man, Mr. Cole is gone, and you're alone together. This is going to be fun.

“What’s your name, darling?” You ask, though you already know the answer. It’s not every day that a world-famous musician stops by ‘The Whispering Wind’, after all.

“I-it’s Jimmy… uh, Page.” His hands, you notice, are clenched into fists, and he shuffles from foot to foot. You press closer to him, and he blushes harder, cheeks almost aflame.

“Pleasure to meet you, Jimmy. I’m—”

“You’re Y/N, aren't you? I saw the poster outside, and I thought you were beautiful,” Breath hitching as he realizes what he just said, Jimmy slaps a hand over his mouth. His emerald eyes signal that he’s embarrassed, but you can only giggle. “I only meant that—”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not too bad yourself.”

Jimmy’s thin hand flies up to scratch the top of his head, and his hair falls in his face, effectively blocking him from view. You can see the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

“Thank you. I, uh… you’re an amazing vocalist. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, your stage presence was… arresting.”

“So you admit to staring at me?”

“Well, I… You…”

I’m just playing, Jimmy,” Your laugh twinkles as it fills the silence, and Jimmy’s lips quirk up in a small smile upon hearing it. “If anything, I should be the one staring. Led Zeppelin’s a big deal, y’know.”

“You… you recognized me?”

“You boys aren't exactly rising stars. Being as famous as you are, I didn’t think you’d be this humble.”

He chuckles under his breath, and looks up at you through his eyelashes. It seems he’s grown more confident now, and you smile, gaze drifting down to his mouth. If you leaned in, just a little, your lips would meet, and you could finally know if his are as soft as they look.

“We’re in New Orleans for another day, uh… I was wondering if, well… God, I’m terrible at this.”

“Jimmy—”

“Could I… take you out, sometime?” His halting, nervous speech only makes him more endearing, and you gaze into his eyes as he squirms. Jimmy sputters, trying to take his words back, but you silence him with a hand on his bicep. Lean muscle ripples under your hand, and you smile at him.

“Jimmy.”

“Oh God, I’ve fucked it all up, haven’t I? J-just forget what I said, I don’t know what—”

“It’s—”

“Seriously, it was probably a mistake to ask you that. I mean,” Jimmy’s head droops, hair shielding him once more, and you can’t help the fondness that rushes through you. Unaware of the smile that nearly splits your cheeks, he presses on, hands flying back and forth to prove his point, “You’re absolutely divine, and I’m just— Uh...”

Close enough that you could almost feel the heat radiating off of him, you put a hand to his shoulder, wiping off imaginary dust from his coat. Your fingers catch slightly on the bedazzled butterflies that adorn it. His eyes follow your hands as they dance and twirl across the fabric, and you can hear his sharp intake of breath echo in the slight space between the two of you. A lone finger finally finds his chin, and you lift his head to look at you.

“Eyes on me, chéri.”

His gorgeous green eyes meet yours from under his curly fringe, and you push a stray lock to rest behind his ear. His cheeks redden even more, something you hadn’t thought possible, as he stares into your eyes.

Pressing close to him, his scent surrounds you, and your lips brush against the curve of his ear.

“Tu veux un rendez-vous? Tu dois travailler pour cela, chéri.”

You pull away, and he is left with the ghost of soft lips against his cheek, the scent of your perfume floating after you as you walk away. Jimmy stands in place, too stunned to even react, until a hand at his back makes him jump. Glancing over his shoulder, he spots his bandmates, smirks at home on their faces. Jonesy pipes up, looking him up and down.

“You okay, Page? You’re looking pretty red…”

“It seems, and correct me if I’m wrong,” interjects Bonzo, as he slips an arm around Jimmy, guiding him back to their table. Jimmy slumps into a chair, stunned into silence, a hand raising to his cheek. Bonzo chuckles, and continues, “Like your crush just got a lot more serious.”

------

Safe behind the door of his hotel room, Jimmy trudges to the bathroom to turn on the shower. Slipping out of his clothes, that he folds neatly on the bed, the guitarist steps in. Steam curls in tendrils around the small bathroom, and Jimmy takes a deep breath. Hand settling on his cock, he begins stroking it slowly; experimentally. The pleasure feels incredible, euphoric even, as his mind drifts to the intriguing woman he had met just an hour ago. Her image is seared into his mind, and every touch she had given him felt like a wildfire licking at his skin. His groans match the speed of his hand as he speeds up, gripping the tiled wall for support.

The scent of her perfume, something floral, unplaceable, lingered in his nose, and he wishes to see her again. To have that scent invade all of his senses, again. Jimmy’s whimpers, quiet, yet keening, echo off the walls, as he reaches his peak. He imagines her there with him, raking a hand roughly through his hair, her hands roaming every inch of skin they could reach.

His muscles twitch as warmth spills over his hand, a soft grunt slipping past his gritted teeth. He’s in ecstasy, something better than any drug. Something he doesn’t ever want to come down from.

As he recovers from the high he had just experienced, his gasping breaths fill the space. Knees trembling from exertion, he grips onto the slippery shower wall, and whispers into the steam that fills the room.

“Y/N…”

------

(the french sentence: you want a date? you have to work for that, darling)

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy @jimmypages (let me know if you want to be added!)

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page x reader #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic #reader insert

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iamnotoriginalphil · 3 years

Text

Try Again (Cordelia Goode x Reader)

Synopsis: You’re having trouble sleeping because of a certain witch.

Words: 1940

Warnings: none

**GIF not mine**

Dappled sunlight filtered through the window, the old sycamore tree swaying in the breeze. You stood at the kitchen counter, cup of tea clasped in your hands, shawl wrapped tight around your shoulders. The old house creaked above you, the sleepy silence setting in around you like an old worn blanket. You watched a raven hop on the green grass, it’s head tilting at something you couldn’t see.

“You’re up early.”

You turned your head slightly, not able to see the blonde witch in the doorway but acknowledging her presence. You let out a long breath, a mixture of contentment and excitement settling in your belly.

A soft hand grasped your shoulder and you turned, leaning back against the counter. Cordelia, pale skin, blonde hair, and beautiful brown eyes, was looking down at you, smile on her pretty pink lips. She cupped your cheek, a thumb running over the dark circle under your eye.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper. She lent forwards, looking in your eyes, brushing your hair behind your ear. You shivered, tilting your chin up to give her a better look, to better gauge your state.

“Nightmares?” she asked. You shook your head.

“Too many thoughts.”

Which was mostly true. Too many thoughts were clouding your brain, making sleep an impossible fantasy, much like the thoughts running through your head. Images of Cordelia hadn’t been leaving your mind all night. Images of her in the warm sunlight, of her with her hands buried in soil in the greenhouse, of her sitting at her desk with that welcoming smile on her face. You hadn’t been able to get rid of them. It was like a sweet kind of torture,

“Would you like the day off to catch up on your sleep?” she asked, her thumb still running over the dark circle.

“I’d rather keep busy,” you replied.

“I could use some help in the greenhouse,” she said, “that should keep you busy.”

She offered you a smile and despite the way your stomach clenched you smiled in return.

“Is there any more of this?” Her fingertips brushed against your knuckles and you looked down at the mug in your hands.

“In the teapot,” you said.

She turned away from you, her skirt swirling around her calves. With graceful actions you’d never quite managed to emulate she reached up to the cupboard above her head. She poured herself a cup of the tea, steam swirling up around her hands. You turned away from her, looking out the window again. The raven was still on the lawn, staring through the window at you.

“I see Edgar is here.” Cordelia’s arm brushed against yours as she stepped up to the window.

“Edgar?” You kept your eyes trained on the bird.

“He’s here every morning. I thought I should give him a name,” she said, “I know it’s cliched but it made me smile.”

“No I like it,” you said hurriedly. You glanced up at her to find her already smiling at you. She nudged you with her elbow.

“I’m going to go get started. You might want to get dressed.”

And just like that she was gone in a waft of perfume that curled around you. You took a shuddering breath in before steeling yourself. You poured the rest of your tea down the drain and left the cup in the sink.

When you entered the greenhouse half an hour later Cordelia had her back to you, her nose buried in a bud of a flower. You coughed. She turned, a smile already there to answer your questioning look. A dark swath of dirt was on her cheek, clinging to her peachy skin.

“Are any of the girls up yet?” she asked.

“I thought I heard Zoe stirring and Mallory was looking for a book when I passed by. I think Queenie might have it,” you replied with a small smile.

“Did you tell her that?” she asked, quirking an amused eyebrow at you.

“I suggested she ask the other girls,” you replied with a shrug.

She chuckled, turning back to her work. You came up beside her, watching her sure hands repot the flower in one of the painted ceramic planters gifted by one of the girls. You felt your face flush at the way her fingers curled around the roots of the flower, protecting it with her cupped hand.

“There are some vials over there,” she said, vaguely gesturing to one of the side benches, “can you bring all of them over here?”

It took a couple of trips but you managed to bring the thirty or so vials to the bench she was working at. Her fingers were plucking leaves from one of the plants, crushing them between thumb and forefinger to release the scent into the air. She took your hand as it released the final vials, her thumb running over the skin of the back of your hand.

“Thank you for the help,” she said.

“Anything for you.”

Her answering smile was as bright as the sun, filling you with just as much warmth.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to earn so much loyalty,” she said.

“You’re the Supreme,” you replied, your cheeks growing warm under her scrutiny.

“Plenty if people wouldn’t do anything for their Supreme,” she said, “many wouldn’t do anything for my mother.”

“You’re not your mother,” you replied.

“I should hope not.” She laughed, tipping her head back. You gave her a hesitant smile. She pressed your palm to her cheek. Your thumb, without thought, brushed the dirt from her skin. Her eyes sparkled and a hint of pink tinged the skin under your hand.

“What thoughts were keeping you up?” she asked.

“They’re not important.” You shook your head, your hand slipping from her face. Her fingers twitched but she let you take a step back.

“I’d like to help. If you’d let me,” she said.

Her face was a picture of earnestness. Your eyes skittered down, not wanting her to see in your eyes the exact thoughts that were that kept you up at night. The way that her room being close enough to yours that you could hear her in the evenings made you burn from the inside out. The way that with a brush of her fingers she could turn you breathless. The way you were panting for praise from her lips.

The way you dreamt about kissing those lips.

“What did you need help with?” you asked instead of giving her a proper response.

You looked down, playing with a fallen petal, velvet against your skin. You squeezed it, feeling the give against your fingers, the way your skin grew damp.

You didn’t hear Cordelia walk to your side of the bench but when her fingers circled your wrist you took a sharp inhalation of breath. The petal fell from your fingers, fluttering to the floor. You looked up into her brown eyes, feeling your mouth fall open. You bit down on your lower lip. Her eyes darkened.

“I want to help,” she murmured.

You grasped her face, pulling her to you. Your lips crashed into hers, harsh and demanding. She froze and you pushed her away before fleeing from the greenhouse.

You stayed locked in your room for the rest of the day, watching as the sun rose then fell, the light fading around you sitting on the bed, staring out the window. You could hear the girls through the walls, laughing, talking, shouting. But none were the one woman who was stuck in your brain.

You fell back, staring up at the canopy above your bed. Running through your head were a series of beratements, telling you everything you had done wrong since arriving at the Academy. You already had half a plan to leave this place to keep your shame buried deep inside.

You didn’t hear the knock on your door, your thoughts too loud to be able to hear anything but your heart beating hard in your ears. You missed the door creaking open and soft footfalls making their way towards you.

A soft hand brushed the hair back from your face and your eyes snapped open. You hurried to sit up, your hands scrabbling on the comforter. You pushed yourself back from the woman standing before your bed. She sat, as elegant as always, blonde hair grey in the moonlight.

“Cordelia,” you breathed, wiping a tear from your face, “what are you doing here?”

“I think we have some talking to do,” she said, a sad smile on her face.

“We can just forget about it. It’s fine. In fact I’d prefer if we did. We never have to talk about this ever,” you said, a desperation clinging to you tight. If everyone involved could just forget about it then it would be like nothing had happened.

“I would like to talk about it,” she said, putting a stop to all the arguments on your tongue.

You averted your eyes from her, closing your mouth, giving her the option to continue.

“You caught me by surprise earlier,” she said, “I wish you hadn’t.”

It was like you’d been doused in a bath of cold water, your body going numb. You didn’t need her telling you she didn’t feel the same way. It was obvious enough to you. It would have been better if she had allowed you to ignore it. You jerked back from her.

“If I’d been more prepared I could have kissed you back the way I wanted to,” she said.

You dragged your eyes up to her. She was looking at you with an intensity you were unused to. Your breath shuddered in your lungs, stopping as one of her hands reached out to you. She cupped your cheek but you remained frozen, back pressed against the headboard.

“Can I try again?” she asked.

“I don’t know what you want. I don’t understand.” You shook your head, your eyes slipping away from her again.

“I have feelings for you. More than that, I’ve fallen in love with you. I hoped you felt the same way but I wasn’t willing to say anything until you did. I didn’t want my position, my power, to influence you,” she said.

“So you let me think you had no feelings for me?” you asked.

“I tried to show you in my own way,” she said, “but I hoped you’d come talk to me.”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you replied.

She gave a short dry chuckle. Looking up, you saw there was no humour in her. Her thumb ran over the apple of your cheek.

“It looks that in trying to look after each other all we’ve managed to do is hurt each other,” she said.

“You can try again.”

A smile broke out on her face. She drew closer, hovering a hair 's breadth away from your lips, her breath ghosting over your skin. You shivered, closing your eyes.

Her lips were soft against yours, but sure. You surged forward, wrapping your arms around her neck, pressing yourself to her, any semblance of self control gone. She kissed you deeper, hungrier, consuming you. Her hand pressed to the small of your back, keeping you close to her.

She pulled back, pressing her forehead to yours. Her eyes were closed and her breathing heavy but her lips were smiling.

“How about you try again?” you murmured.

“Was it not good enough for you?” she asked, her eyes blinking open.

“Much too short,” you replied.

A smile broke over her face before you kissed her again.

#Cordelia goode #Cordelia Goode imagine #Sarah Paulson imagine #Cordelia Goode x reader #sarah paulson

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fragileizywriting · 3 years

Text

the stars are nothing (compared to your constellations of freckles)

pairing: Adrien / Marinette word count: 7,521 chapter: 1/1 rating: G summary: “I used to have a huge— huge— crush on you when we were younger. She took hold of it and has been running with the idea that we’re perfect for each other ever since then.” Adrien nearly choked on his drink. “Really?” “It was embarrassing.” Marinette placed the cup down and rubbed her fingers together for warmth. “B-but trust me, the crush is gone now, don’t worry.” “G-gone?” Was the sky spinning, or was he just seeing things? Was he melting? Even while sitting, he felt like the world had been pulled out from underneath him. She used to have a crush on him. She used to have a crush on him. Only to give it up so she could— so she could— Date Chat Noir. Date him. His breath crumbled in his lungs, suffocating and painful in the cold air. AO3 link

He heard her first before actually seeing her. His back turned to their tent in the cool, chilly night— he knew just by the sound of her voice she had tucked herself into her knitted cap, and layered long sleeves to keep the cold air from permeating into her skin. “Oh— Hi, Adrien.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No, no. Just— just looking for something to do for a little while. Couldn’t fall asleep?”

He poked a bit at the firepit with a metal prong, watching the flames lick the sides of the sticks he’d put inside the bowl the way Nino had taught him to do. He sat back onto his little floor cushion, turning just so to catch a hint of Marinette’s pink lips pulled into a shy smile as she zipped the tent behind her closed.

He shook his head, warm in the chest as Marinette pulled out another cushion from the small laundry bag they had brought to store them in, and she sat close to the fire. Close enough for him to wrap his arms around her, if he were any bolder, or if he was any less terrified. “Not yet. Nino is moving too much, and I can’t find his phone to stop the music blaring from his headphones— I’d follow the wire, but they’re bluetooth. He’s going to go deaf in his sleep one day from how loud it is.”

Her laughter filled him to the brim with warmth, and he couldn’t stop himself from letting his own smile form.

“What about you? What are you doing out here instead of sleeping?”

She laughed to herself, rubbing her hands together, trying to keep herself warm. He wished he could reach over to her and warm them for her— but he was nothing more than a stranger to her. He turned his attention back to the fire to keep himself from acting on impulse. “Oh— well— It’s embarrassing to admit, really.”

He smiled into the collar of his sweater. “Try me.”

Always up for a challenge, Marinette’s eyes sparkled as she took his bait. “I move a lot in my sleep, too. I’m a hugger.”

“Oh really?” Adrien wanted nothing more than to tell her that he knew exactly that. He knew what Marinette looked like tucked under his chin, arms somehow making it to his hair and petting behind the ears. The sweet smell of milk soap on her skin making up for the headbutts he’d get as she tossed and turned in his arms. The way to only manage to get her to hold still for even a brief period of time was to sleep on top of her, blanketing her in his own weight.

He knew that she hated his fake snoring. He wasn’t sure if he did it for some backwards irony to make up for the lack of sleep he always got, but he loved the sweet and generous laughter he got out of her from it.

He knew that her laughter was contagious past nine at night— where her smile would take form into one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen, where her eyes would twinkle like stars.

He knew that when she finally did sleep, and finally did stop moving for the night, her weight was comforting on him— assuming that somehow she’d flipped their positions throughout the night to rest her head on the space on his shoulder. She’d always complained about the sleekness of his hexleather costume and how it was impossible for her to feel comfortable without slipping off, and yet she fell asleep for hours on him without having her head slip off him uncomfortably.

He knew that her hair tickled his nose when she slept, and that he only slept well when he could smell the easy scent of her shampoo pressed up against him.

And he knew that Marinette only slept well when she could press the meat of her palm on the space just below his clavicle, letting her hand rest where his chest rose and fell.

“Oh, yeah. I’m a total annoyance— Alya hates it— she feels claustrophobic whenever she sleeps near me, so I’m letting her get some sleep before I head back in.” Marinette sat back, humor lining her own voice, completely oblivious to the way Adrien was buzzing in his seat with yearning— wishing to the point it hurt to just reach out to her and kiss her. “How long have you been out here for?”

“I’m not sure. An hour, I think?” Adrien poked at the fire again, flipping one of the sticks over to the other side and watching the fresh bark crumble and burn. Ever since they’d tucked in for the night, he hadn’t been able to sleep. It’d been a long while since he had to sleep without Marinette with him, and the experience was foreign.

His hands had gravitated so much towards the other heat source in bed— Nino— looking for a hand to hold or someone’s neck to nuzzle. He’d nearly pulled Nino onto him like he was used to doing with Marinette— and while he was sure Nino wouldn’t mind, Adrien had left the tent before it had gotten embarrassing. He missed her warmth.

He didn’t know heartache could be so strong.

Marinette fiddled with her phone, swiping through her conversation on her apps, waiting for the circle bar to finish loading and refresh for new messages. Nothing. Adrien tried not to pay attention to what was on her phone— he was just a friend, she didn’t know him— but he couldn’t help himself watch her refresh their conversation over and over again on a blackened messenger app, lilac pink chat bubbles jumping back and forth on her screen with every refresh.

Waiting for a response from him.

Him.

Chat Noir him.

But not Adrien him.

She sighed to herself, biting her bottom lip, accepting the lack of internet. “I guess there’s no signal out here?”

“I tried sending out a couple of messages already,” He nodded, admitting to her face that he had tried to respond. She didn’t know he was referring to that— was it obvious in his eyes at how much he wished he could say it to her? “Nothing— uhm— nothing went through.”

They break eye contact after a moment.

His heart felt heavy.

“Oh, wow. The service here must be a lot worse than I thought. I hope we don’t need to contact anyone this weekend, or anything like that.” Marinette crossed her legs in front of her, wiping her palms on her pajama pants. Chat Noir paw-prints dotted all on the legs— a gift from him last christmas. He’d bought it off of the original fan merch website after spending a while looking for what to get her. She’d laughed about it, given Chat Noir a glare that had dissolved into laughter as he had opened his own gift and confetti had ruptured out of the small box.

He loved the bed slippers she had given him, and always made sure to hide it away under his bed or in his closet whenever his friends came over.

It wasn’t a gift for Adrien. Because it wasn’t for this half of him.

It was a gift for Chat Noir— and he made sure to keep it away from his civilian friends. The mint green color for the bunnies was incredibly endearing.

She wore her own gift for laughs sometimes, always finding it incredibly humorous that he’d gone out and bought his own merch. He always made sure to pepper her face with kisses every time she wore it, telling her that she looked like she was his biggest fan. It never failed to make her laugh to the point of losing her breath.

Adrien never felt so far away from her than sitting right next to her in front of the fire.

It made him want to cry that Marinette had put it on willingly, unknowing that he was here, most likely for the simple reason to have a bit of him with her while she left the city for the weekend. Adrien blushed to himself, staring away from Marinette’s hands, who he’d gotten entranced to looking at the way they moved. He wished he could hold her hand. His voice felt weak. “W-well I’m sure we won’t need to call anyone for a while. We brought enough food to last for a week, Nino’s decision. If we hike up more of the mountain tomorrow, we’ll probably have more signal.”

A private smile filtered to her face, one that he shouldn’t be able to read. But he knew everything about Marinette now. She was excited to have service. She wanted to text him. She curled her legs in closer to her, holding herself tight, resting her forehead and tired eyes on her knees. The small lock of hair that escaped her cap fell from her shoulder, spilling softly onto her collarbone.

Adrien tried not to stare, the words he so desperately wanted to say and had practiced for the entire night getting stuck at the edge of his throat. He— he couldn’t do it.

Coward. Coward.

Marinette would hate him, wouldn’t she? She’d trusted her entire life with Chat Noir— but he was a nobody to her when he was Adrien. What chance did he have to ruin her trust like that, and hope that it turned out okay?

“I won’t be able to send a goodnight text tonight. I hope… I hope that’s okay.” Marinette murmured to herself, speaking into her knees. Adrien wondered if she missed him as much as he missed her— regardless of her being right next to him.

He wondered if he’d be able to tell her the truth like he had planned to. His mouth refused to move, his tongue pretending to be made out of cement. He’d fought countless of Akumas, stared at death hundreds of times— he faulters now. Here. An entire galaxy and universe between them, even as they’re just centimeters away from each other.

He pretended not to hear her, favoring on bringing the subject back to the cold. He poked a bit more at the fire, letting a fresh new stick fall into the pit, enjoying the way the flame licked the surface. “Hey, I think there’s hot chocolate left in the container from dinner. Do you want to share the rest of it?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea. Let me go find it. It’s in the cooler, right?” The fire coated her cheeks rosy pink. She’d gotten so much better at communicating with Adrien him the last two years ever since Chat Noir him had shown up at her doorstep— and while she was finally able to maintain eye contact with Adrien without squeaking, she was always outspoken with him whenever he was covered in hexleather as Chat Noir— always so opinionated and passionate. Adrien couldn’t help himself by falling in love. Smitten as a kitten.

Marinette would’ve loved that pun. He wished he could tell her it.

Just three words. Just three words. All he had to do was just say three words.

He poked at the fire listlessly, trying to hype himself up to tell her the truth. She deserved to know. She deserved to know that it was him. The boy who showed up at her door every night was nothing more than her classmate that she had managed to finally stop sputtering in front of. He wanted to tell her that he loved her outside of his suit— he wanted to tell her that he wanted to be with her always, hexleather or genuine skin— he wanted to fall asleep with her tucked underneath his chin every day for the rest of his life.

He continued to poke at the fire with his prong. He couldn’t tell her.

Marinette found her way back over to him and she pushed her floor pillow closer to him with a foot, trying to balance her phone in one hand and the camping insulation bottle in the other. Her smile shy, she sat down before she had even made up her mind. Adrien tried not to scare her off.

She passed him a cup, and Adrien wept on the inside at their fingertips touching each other. Why was he such a coward? Why couldn’t he turn to her and tell her— “Adrien? Everything okay?”

“Sorry,” He dropped the metal fire poker in his hand, leaning forward to give her better attention. She held the hot chocolate bottle in between two mittened hands, smile soft and curious on her face. He tried not to dissolve into a blush, cursing himself for letting his thoughts run away without him. He bit the inside of his cheek as she poured his drink for him, the sound of the fire crackling and hissing loud against the silence of their breaths.

He hadn’t been joking when he had said that Nino’s music had been too loud. Even when Adrien had originally gotten over trying to cuddle with Nino under the covers, the music blasting in his headphones was enough to wake Adrien up from the edge of sleep. Leaning back against the fallen log, cradling the cup of hot chocolate in his hands and looking into the fire, Adrien reasoned that he could fall asleep in the position he was in. He was sure his back would protest the hike they would go on the following day if he did, but at least he wouldn’t be waking up to his hand searching for body warmth.

“I feel kind of bad for the both of them.” Marinette pulled her legs up to put her chin on, hugging her knees with her arms.

“Who?” Adrien took a sip out of his cup. Lukewarm and agonizingly sweet from all the undissolved sugar that sat at the bottom of the bottle. Perfect for the chill. Perfect for him to get his mind off of things for a bit.

He could see from the corner of his eyes that Marinette was gazing into the fireplace, the strings from her cap falling across her shoulders. He wanted to reach over and tuck that stray piece of hair under her hat— brush her bangs back and kiss her forehead. “Alya and Nino. I feel kind of bad that they have to sleep in separate tents because of us.”

“I’m sure they don’t mind it.” He kept his tone polite, trying not to devolve into his usual banter of flirts. I wouldn’t mind sharing another bed with you. He was Adrien. He was just a friend. She didn’t know him well enough. She didn’t know how well their fingers intertwined.

A short chilly breeze cut through their conversation, sending a plume of smoke from the fire into their general direction. The two of them parted, jumping quickly off their cushions as they tried not to laugh too hard. The smell of smoke burned in his nose and stained his clothes— no doubt his hair smelled like smoke, too. He should’ve worn a hat to keep the smoke smell off. Too late now.

Marinette laughed from the other side of the firepit, the light bright enough for him to see how sparkly her blue eyes were. He could probably see stars in them, if he got close enough— he knew that they lived there often whenever she was with him. “Was that the fire telling us to go to bed?”

“Not a chance,” He kept his voice low, and took a sip from his cup. It just barely tasted like smoke, which was a good sign to keep drinking. “But it may have been the fire telling us to get warmer. It’s freezing out here.”

As if she’d noticed only when he said it, she nodded in agreement, suddenly shivering under her three layers of clothes. He hoped she wouldn’t catch a cold from how much shivering she was doing.

He passed her the handle of his mug and asked her to wait, unzipping his tent to grab for his blanket. He almost hit the back of Nino’s calf in search for an end of the blanket to pull on. He brought the blanket’s edge around his shoulders, letting a big portion of the fabric drape across his shoulder as he accepted his cup back. He held the rest of the blanket with his long arm and shrugged his shoulder, beckoning Marinette to come closer and share the blanket with him.

As a friend. Just a friend. Always a friend.

He was miserable without being able to touch her.

They sat back down on the pillows, shoulders barely touching. She accepted the other end of the blanket with a thankful smile, and draped the remaining fabric over her thin frame. They sat in comfortable silence, letting the smoke billow up and the blanket cover them from the chill. He sipped from his cup contently, trying his best to stay at ease with her next to him.

Soft, strained laughter made its way out of Marinette’s throat. “No, I don’t think Alya’s okay with sleeping away from her boyfriend. Alya’s been trying to get me to change tents with Nino the entire trip over. This was supposed to be their getaway from home, you know. I’m sure she doesn’t actually mind sleeping in another tent, but I think she’d like it a lot more if they were together.”

“Is that what the both of you were talking about in the back of the van?” Nino had wanted to drive for the majority of the car trip, saying that whoever drived was always considered the designated controller of the speakers. Alya had sent him in the passenger seat, claiming that his kilometers of model-legs would cramp in the back seat no matter how much space he was given. His chance to try to warm himself up to talking to Marinette had been squished.

Marinette and Alya had spent the entire car ride talking in hushed voices in the back of the van, and Adrien wasn’t able to hear them over the sound of the speakers. Marinette had been stained permanently red from whatever blush had come up throughout the trip by the time they had made it to the park they were camping at. At the time, Adrien hadn’t understood what the fuss was about.

“Y-yeah.” She took a sip from her own cup.

“I’m sorry.” He found himself speaking before he was able to think of something to say, fingers white-knuckling around his mug. “Uhm. I know I make you uncomfortable sometimes— so the switch— it wouldn’t have been ideal.”

Marinette turned to him as best as she could on her floor pillow, trying her best not to jostle her hot chocolate. “No— no you don’t— make me uncomfortable. Honestly— I— I’m just really shy.”

He knew that wasn’t true. He knew for a fact that Marinette wasn’t shy with anything except when it came to Adrien. Marinette was vocal about everything and anything with everybody— he’d seen her bicker with akumatized people just as he showed up to take her away from trouble, and even when tossed over his shoulder to run she’d continue to ask them to let go of the akumas in them. Marinette was brave— and he knew that— and she knew that— but she couldn’t tell Adrien.

He wanted to cry. He was a coward who couldn’t tell her.

“Still though,” He cleared his throat as he felt a wave of tears threaten to take over his voice. “I don’t ever want to purposely make you uncomfortable, Marinette. You’re one of my closest friends. Being in a tent together would’ve made you uncomfortable, wouldn’t it?”

And incredibly difficult to explain if he had pulled her on him in the middle of the night, like he usually did under the context of being Chat Noir. It was one thing to explain doing it when he did it all the time. It was another to try to make an excuse when he was just his civilian self.

“No, no! I promise— I promise you don’t make me uncomfortable. Alya’s just been pressuring me to pair up with you since the beginning of time, it feels like.” She ducked her head, shy. Her cap’s strings bobbed at the movement, and she pulled at her collar as if she was struggling with admitting it. “I used to have a huge— huge— crush on you when we were younger. She took hold of it and has been running with the idea that we’re perfect for each other ever since then.”

He nearly choked on his drink. “Really?”

“It was embarrassing.” She placed the cup down and rubbed her fingers together for warmth. “B-but trust me, the crush is gone now, don’t worry.”

“G-gone?” Was the sky spinning, or was he just seeing things? Was he melting? Even while sitting he felt like the world had been pulled out from underneath him. She used to have a crush on him. She used to have a crush on him. Only to give it up so she could— so she could—

Date Chat Noir.

Date him.

His breath crumbled in his lungs, suffocating and painful in the cold air.

“I mean it’s been years now, and we’re good friends like you’ve said and— well I just— well— I have a boyfriend.” He saw her visibly bite her tongue at that. Her eyes widened at what she’d just said, nervously patting at her Chat Noir pajama pants, finally realizing that she’d admitted to having a crush on him. “I don’t think— and the tent is so small— it would be like sharing a bed and—”

“I— Oh— you do?” He had no words, staring at her with wide, slow-blinking eyes. Marinette had never referred to him as her— her— oh. Oh. Wait. Hold on. “But Marinette I would never— uh— and I never knew— I’m sorry—”

Something rattled in his chest, threatening to make him cough. Inhaled the hot chocolate into the wrong tube, he reasoned, but he couldn’t focus on it now.

Marinette referred to him as her boyfriend.

She used to have a crush on him.

The firepit was too loud in his ears. It was too hot under the blanket, surely that was it.

She smothered her nervous laughter into her cup, gazing behind her to see if Alya stirred at all in her tent. They didn’t have to worry about Nino, with his noise-canceling headphones. A bear could come in and take all their food and Nino wouldn’t notice. Or a boar. Many boars. Wolves. Cows. An entire procession of cows. With cowbells.

Adrien could scream at the top of his lungs— and he was very close to doing it— and Nino would be completely deaf to all of it.

“No, no, I didn’t— I didn’t mean to suggest that you’d do something, oh my god I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant at all— I know you wouldn’t.” She groaned. “It— I just meant— it just wouldn’t feel okay to me.”

“Right. Yeah I’m— sorry. I never knew you had a boyfriend— god— I’m so sorry for—” Adrien couldn’t breathe, trying to clear his throat. She had a crush on him. Had. The stars in her eyes were blinding. “How— uh— how? How long, I mean?”

She blushed. How was he supposed to survive this? Oh— and she’d never called him her boyfriend before, at least not to his knowledge. They kissed a lot, they played video games, he helped her study and she would let him catnap on her chaise during the afternoon sun, but— well— there was only so much dating they could do when one of them was masked as one of the Heroes of Paris and was also a coward that couldn’t tell the girl he loved and dated that he was a civilian that she knew and— Adrien wanted to kick himself.

“Two years, maybe. That sounds about right, I guess?” She spoke so softly that he almost missed it in his turmoil.

He felt faint. “Two years?”

“We don’t really have an anniversary.” She had the idea to be sheepish as he stared at her, scratching the back of her neck with her fingers while she worried her lip between her teeth. She broke eye contact with him in favor of looking down at her cup which was only left with the small dots of undissolved chocolate spots. Adrien couldn’t stop staring at the way the firelight illuminated her face.

“He’s… very lucky to have you.” Adrien managed to say after a long pause in the conversation, his hands flexing hard around his own cup. Thoughts of being called her boyfriend so casually to anyone else made his entire body heat up in warm thoughts, and it made him want to take off his sweater from how sweaty the back of his neck was starting to get. If he could drown himself at the lake, he would’ve.

“He’s a private person,” She tried reasoning to him, under the impression that he was upset. “I don’t mention him because I don’t want to overwhelm him.”

Only half-true. Everyone knew who Chat Noir was, and even Marinette herself knew that he talked about his life as best as he could under the circumstances of not being able to reveal his secret identity. It would make him absolutely delighted to hear Marinette mention him even more in casual conversations like this.

“I can relate to being a private person,” Adrien chose to say, leaning hard onto his life-of-fame outlook. “Does Alya know about him?”

Marinette frowned. “Oh, god, no. Please don’t tell her— she’d never let me hear the end of it of how excited she is and the double dates and so many things we could do. We’ve never really discussed if we were ever going to tell others but I think it’s for the best we don’t. Alya wouldn’t be happy finding out that it’s already been two years, we’ve dug ourselves into a pit with this one honestly.”

Especially since it was Chat Noir. Alya would suffocate the both of them. The fact that he could envision it with such clarity made him grit his teeth.

He winced sympathetically. “I get you. Don’t worry, Marinette. Your secret’s safe with me. I promise. And don’t worry about your— ah— boyfriend. I hope he’s a nice guy.”

She nodded a bit too enthusiastically. “Oh. He’s wonderful.”

She gladly took his cup once he was done drinking the rest of the hot chocolate, and stood up to bin it. His hands clammed cold against the fabric of his pajama pants, and he wiped them against his thighs. He needed to tell her.

Seriously. He needed to tell her.

It wouldn’t be okay to continue this lie in front of her— especially since she called him her boyfriend to his face even though they’ve never talked about it— god what was he supposed to say to her when they saw each other again back at her house? How was he supposed to continue doing what he was doing now that he knew that she had a crush on him once?

He was going to faint.

He pulled out his phone while she pittered behind him, and cursed at the blinking empty spot on the top left corner of his screen. No signal. He couldn’t even text it to her even if he wanted to. He refreshed the messaging app just as a last measure, looking for anything that could come through. Nothing.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried earlier today, hitting refresh over and over on the app looking for new messages. He’d typed and then untyped messages on how he would tell her what he’d been trying to prepare himself to say for weeks. Everytime he thought he had gotten a message that looked perfect, he thought of the way Marinette smiled and laughed, and realized that he would break into a thousand little cataclysm pieces if he messed this up and lost it. Lost her.

Was he a coward? Could he truly not just turn to her and open his mouth and say the words that he’s been trying to say all night ever since he came out of his tent and started poking at the fire, longing for her to be right next to him and happy that they were together? And not have to hide behind a stupid hexleather domino mask and have Plagg complain to him that he was being too much of a lovesick idiot to do anything about it except just continue to go to her house?

Was he not able to confess his true feelings to a girl who had literally just spoken about having a crush on him to the point that their friends had tried to set her up on numerous occasions with him? And yet, his mouth remained shut. Coward. He was a coward.

“Marinette?” He turned to look for her, surprised that she was returning to her seat with an apple. He pocketed his phone, shy. He watched her eat, battling his mouth and brain for words to form and speak and say it.

“Adrien? Everything okay?” She looked as nervous as he did.

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s okay.” His tongue felt too big for his mouth. He didn’t want to ruin this. She was the greatest thing to happen to him. He couldn’t do it. Even if it made him flounder and upset at his cowardice, he couldn’t tell her. If something happened to their relationship because she was upset about it being him, Adrien would never be able to live it down.

“Are you sure?” He watched a trail of juice from the apple curl down her wrist.

“Oh, yeah. You should tell me more about him.” Adrien almost thunked his head back into the log behind him, disappointed in the way his voice sounded desperate. Anything to get Marinette from questioning why he looked like he was about to faint.

She looked up at him in between long lashes, adoration so crystal clear on his face. No. He definitely couldn’t tell her that it was him. “He’s my best friend. He’s my whole world.”

“More than Alya is?” He hoped he didn’t sound winded.

“Absolutely more.” She passed the apple between her hands, the puff at the end of her cap bobbing with her movements. “Oops. Don’t tell her that.”

He grabbed for the metal poker, letting his hands fidget with the sticks and the slow crackle of the fire. “What makes him your best friend?”

“He just knows so much about me. We spend so much time together. We’re hardly ever apart.”

“What’s your favorite moment with him?”

He knew her well enough to recognize her nostalgic gaze up to the starlit sky. He recognized her smile— reminiscing with such raw longing that Adrien had to give a double take in her direction. He wondered what specific moment she was thinking about. He wondered what moment he would pick if she ever asked him.

He remembered the days he would show up at her trap door, looking for somewhere to stay after a fight with his dad. Back when things were simple and Marinette was the only thing that could fix it.

Who was he kidding? Marinette was still the only thing that could fix it.

He remembered after the first few Akuma fights, when he would show up at her door just as a courtesy to check in if she was okay— the Akuma fights where Marinette would be in the middle of the fight begging the akumatized person to change their mind— and he would stay for hours. Under the pretence that he was concerned for a citizen of Paris, of course.

He remembered when she cried on his for the first time— something had happened at school that he had never understood because Marinette was a silent cryer when she cried, and didn’t speak other than the occasional curse word. He remembered when he cried on her for the first time. That was when he found out that she smelled like milksoap— and the scent had clung to his nose like a blanket for the entirety of the following day. The following school day he had felt that he was floating, drifting away in a cloud of milksoap.

He’d been useless during that following Akuma attack.

He remembered their first kiss— how could he not? The memory was seared into his head for the rest of time. It was one thing for him to lay on her bed while they watched cartoons together. It was another to lean towards her, hogging her body pillow, while she looked at him with wide expectant eyes. She wanted something from him, and he wasn’t sure what. A gentle little smile. Her breath caught on something. He couldn’t stop looking at her. What other choice did he have but to kiss her in that moment?

In her soft pajamas? Hair down? Cherry lip balm? The smell of hot chocolate on her breath? He wasn’t a fool. He had never been more sure of something in his life.

He still couldn’t remember what the cartoon was about.

Plagg had made fun of him for the entire day following it. He couldn’t help himself. All he wanted to do for the rest of his life was kiss her.

“My favorite memory would be… well. There was a day where he found out I have freckles.” Her voice took him out of his thoughts, and he nearly missed it.

“Your— your freckles?” He tilted his head, trying to give the impression that he had been paying attention.

Marinette’s eyes softened towards the fire, completely lost in thought. Adrien tried not to lose his breath. Even wind-chilled, and lips chapped, she made his heart hurt. “It was late, once. I think we were watching a movie at my place.”

It had been his idea to watch the movie. He had been absolutely certain that she would’ve loved the movie— and he was still sure— but they’d never finished. The entire time he had completely ignored it in favor of playing a game with her on trying to put his head on her lap without her trying to push him off the bed. She had laughed the entire time while he was trying, advocating on closing the movie app in favor of letting him cuddle. He’d gotten too close to her face, in the process— her laughter had died down. Her eyes were so much more bluer up close.

She had freckles. He remembered counting them— a smattering of dots across the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheekbones. He’d lost track after twenty, since she’d broken away from him, stammering over her words that reminded him of when she talked to him as Adrien. It hadn’t taken a lot of brain power to realize that their movie night was done. He’d gone home after apologizing, and could barely look at her in the eye the next day.

“He looked at me like he had finally realized what I looked like,” Marinette laughed to herself, taking a bite of her apple. She was nearly done with it, Adrien noticed too late. She was going to get up soon. Maybe even head to bed. “It was the sweetest little moment we had, I feel like. I think about it all the time.”

Adrien could only keep the polite smile on his face for so long. Was she yearning for him? Did she know how much he wanted to burst from being so close to her but having to be a complete stranger? Did she know that he wanted to drown himself in the lake from how awake he was? If they parted for the night, he wouldn’t be able to sleep for the next week and a half. Plagg would never stop teasing him about it for the rest of time. If only she knew what he was going through. He tried not to choke on his tongue as his mouth ran over itself. “Marinette? I want to tell you something.”

She turned away from the fire to look at him fast enough to give him whiplash. “Oh. Did I— I’m sorry— did I over talk?”

“No, no not at all!” He could hear the strain in his voice. I’m here. I’m right here. It’s me. “I just. I just. Uhm.”

She tried to appease him. “Oh. If it’s about me having a crush on you, it’s okay. We’re just friends.”

He was an idiot. A huge idiot. Say the words. Say them. She was right there. Hugging distance. Kissing distance. He wanted to kiss her so badly. “No— well. It’s about the ‘you having a crush on me’ part, yes, but not just that.”

“Go on?” She winced at the weakness of her voice.

“I’m sorry.” Oh, he really wanted to drown himself now. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he say it? He fought akumas harder than this, and he had bruises to prove it. Why couldn’t he just say the words? His hands were shaking in his lap. He was freezing and on fire. His miraculous ring was never more interesting than it was as he twisted it on his finger with his other hand.

She frowned, not at all understanding. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I’m sorry for not knowing you had a crush on me when we were younger.” He was the emotional equivalent of grasping at straws, desperate for himself to be able to say the words in the most graceful way. Chat Noir was a coward. He wondered if Ladybug would be mad if she knew that he was floundering on telling a girl his true feelings.

“Oh— oh. That’s— that’s fine.”

“It isn’t. I should’ve realized.” He was nervous enough to rake an entire hand into his hair. “I should’ve seen the signs. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought you had been just a best friend at the time.”

“Seriously— it’s— it’s fine.” She waved him away. “It was such a long— long— time ago. We were children.”

Adrien could do nothing but be silent for the following minutes. Marinette had a boyfriend now. Of course she would be over him. Even though she was still dating him. What a confusing mess…

Would she still be over him after he told her? If she walked away, or zipped herself in her tent? The following day of hiking would be awkward and terrible. Oh, God. He didn’t want to lose her. If he sat here and ignored everything— continued to stare into the fire, with her at his side�� would he be able to withstand the rest of the weekend? She was understanding, and she was kind, but he couldn’t help himself from trying to preserve one of the best things to happen to him.

Would it hurt if he fell face first into the fire? Anything would be more bearable than this. He would never be able to model again— no more money, fine. Who cared? He’d be dead. Maybe. He could feel it bubbling in him, threatening to escape his mouth in whichever way it could.

“I— I’m Chat Noir.” He bit his tongue so hard he could taste copper, trying to stop himself from talking. He managed to hold back a string of curses that tried slipping through.

She nearly dropped her apple, which was now mostly cored, searching his face for a joke. “I— hold on— what?”

“I’m Chat. I’m Chat Noir.” He barreled through it like ripping off a bandaid, refusing to make eye contact. “I know you were talking about me being your boyfriend. For two years. It’s— I’m— I’m Chat Noir.”

“Are— are you sure?”

“What?” It was his turn to frown at her. Was she starting to smile? “What— huh? What do you mean ‘am I sure’?”

“Are you sure you’re Chat Noir?”

He had the audacity to look down at his miraculous ring, wondering for a split second if he had hallucinated the past four years of his life. “I think so.”

She threw her hands around him tight, fisting the back of his sweater with her hands. The apple went flying from her hand, past his tent, and somewhere into the bushes— snapping twigs along its path. The fire crackled low as the last stick in the firepit burned, the branding heat leaving way to the chill air. He paid no mind to any of it, his nose full of milksoap, and his hands full of soft fabric from her layers of long sleeves.

Laughter bubbled in his ear as she clung to him— soft, sweet laughter that gripped his heart to the point it hurt. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I already knew, Adrien— I’ve been waiting for you to tell me for a couple of hours now.”

“What? How— how did— you—” He couldn’t help himself from pulling her closer, burying his face into her shoulder, feeling faint and overwhelmed. He couldn’t feel the log behind him, and he couldn’t feel his toes.

She curled her hand in his hair, and Adrien nearly lost his mind. The entire time he had felt guilty about keeping this from her and she’d accepted him with open arms. He would argue that crying was absolutely a valid response. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t cry, kitty-cat— it’s okay.”

He sucked in a breath. “How long have you known?”

“Just today. I found out this morning.”

“What do you mean? How did you—”

“You left early from my house today. You— you told me you needed to get ready for our trip, which was why you left so early from my house” She whispered. “I thought that was your way of telling me that you’re Adrien— but— you never mentioned it when we met up again at Alya’s house so I thought I’d— hallucinated it in my sleep.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” His mouth pinched. “Please— why— why didn’t you?”

She wiped a tear from his face. And then another. And then another. “I— I didn’t know if I’d heard you correctly, Adrien! I didn’t want to give something away just in case— so I’ve been trying to drop hints this entire time, instead.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, kitty-cat. You’re okay. Please don’t cry.”

He smothered her, pulled her into his lap to wrap the blanket around them, sucking in breath after breath. “I hadn’t even realized what I did— I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you waiting for me to admit it— I’m sorry that I took so long to tell you— I’m so sorry that it took me this long.”

“It’s okay.” She shook her head, the strings of the cap falling across her shoulders again. “It’s okay, Adrien. We’re okay. Everything is okay.”

He tucked the stray piece of hair back underneath her cap, hands buzzing from the ability to touch her. He followed the outline of her eyes with his thumbs— he followed the outline of her cheeks and jawline, as well— petting each individual freckle that dusted her cheeks. “Marinette— my god— I’ve— I’ve been going crazy this entire day— I couldn’t do it anymore. I needed to tell you— I’ve been wanting to— to tell you— for— for the past two years. God. God.”

He tried his best not to squish her while he hugged her, but he couldn’t contain himself as soft peels of laughter mixed with his tears escaped. She laughed, and hugged him just as hard, squeezing all of the air in his lungs out.

Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

“I couldn’t fall asleep without you, Princess.” He managed to say after they’ve cried enough.

“I couldn’t either,” She confessed into his shoulder. “It was terrible— so horrible. Alya hogs the sheets— and then she has the audacity to complain about me moving around too much. I honestly was starting to go nuts, I’m so tired without you. I can’t sleep without you anymore, kitty-cat— I was about to somehow convince you that we needed to sleep in the same area together.”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you.” He kept his laughter down at the little pinch she gave him at his side. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing kisses to her forehead, at the edge of where her cap met her hairline when he brushed her hair back— when he kissed each individual constellation of freckles that dotted her upper cheekbones. “I’ll have you know, I’m an expert sleeper.”

She kissed him sweetly on the lips, giggling to the point it looked like it hurt. Adrien tried not to sniffle too hard as warmth after warmth filled his chest. “Believe me— trust me— we’ll sleep fine from now on.”

#fragileizyfic #fragileizyoneshot #marichat #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #marichat fanfiction #i hope you're having a good day!!!!!💕

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fromthehellmouth · 3 years

Text

Red, Hot Skin

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: mentions of a hot-water burn, fluff, a bit of minor tension

Drawing by me inspired by scenes from the story. I hope you enjoy! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Overview:

Tension ensues after you and Tom Riddle both attempt to retain your dignity following foolish mistakes. Tom risks breaking curfew to make up for a painful mistake of his.

Tom Riddle stood next to me at the workspace counter in the dim light of the potions classroom. His large pale hands planted firmly on the black counter, his sleeves rolled up below the elbow to reveal his toned forearms twisting slightly as I added the next ingredient to my simmering brew. It was part one of a group test where professor Slughorn would choose one student of a pair to perform the completion of a potion in front of the class. It was a way to test one’s ability to trust their partner, and would assure that both students equally understood the directions of the potion if they happened to be the one called to demonstrate. Professor Slughorn watched intently with a clipboard as I sprinkled the fine dust from my cupped palm into the cauldron. Reaching for the last of the peppermint sprigs, I extended my arm over the bubbling mixture when suddenly, Riddle aggressively grabbed my wrist.

“No!” he exclaimed, but it was too late, the thin leaf had fallen from my grasp into the boiling pot below. Slughorn jotted something on his parchment and looked at me, worry sinking into the lines of his face.

“Now you’ve done it.” Riddle all but growled next to me, taking a step back from the table in dismay. The mixture erupted and thick, red, oozing sludge sprayed from the cauldron, spilling over the pewter rims and onto the work table below. In my embarrassment I stood completely frozen, unable to scoop up the mixture with my hands because of the burns I would face as a result of touching the corrosive slime. So, I just stood helplessly, my eyes fixed on the mess before me.

“Oh dear,” Slughorn muttered, waving his wand and collecting the crimson sludge in a suspended bubble, eventually letting it plop back into the confines of the abused bowl. Slughorn scratched something else on the parchment in his hands and turned sympathetically to me with a soft expression. To my right I felt Riddle’s gaze boring into my face. I could sense the vast disappointment emanating from his glare and I had to force my attention on Slughorn to keep myself from glancing at his clenched fists.

As the students began to trickle from the classroom, I took my time in order to leave a comment with professor Slughorn about my performance for the day. I felt Riddle’s eyes on the back of my neck as he left the room and I was soon alone with Slughorn.

“I’m so sorry professor, I don’t know how the process could have slipped my mind.”

“The potion could have been botched by any student, but for next time I suggest you focus more on the ‘claims and cautions’ portion of the lessons, alright?”

I knew the words held little weight. It was a brew I should have mastered, and demonstrating my incompetence to the class was quite the blow to my psyche.

“Alright, thank you for the advice professor.” He nodded, and we exited the room together. Slughorn turned around, “I will see you next lesson--Oh, and Mr. Riddle, you as well.” Slughorn walked away and I turned around to see Riddle waiting outside the classroom, his eyes in shadow under his defined brows. “Why are you still--” but I was cut off, Riddle cornered me into the wall, glaring at me with piercing eyes. Startled, I felt hot under his gaze, my cheeks blushing bright pink, and my breathing faltered as I felt the pressure radiating from his eyes. “No one spoils my reputation like that, do you hear me?” I nodded, looking at the floor. “Now, go study for the next demonstration.”

***

The next morning I was determined to memorize the next brew by heart, and I decided to get up early and visit the library before breakfast. The hazy purple dawn glowed through the beautiful gothic windows of the library, and streams of sparkling rays danced on the crimson-carpeted floor. There were rarely students in the library so early in the morning, and I was able to swiftly collect the edition of “Deadly Draughts and Elixirs” Slughorn no longer provided in his classroom. Swiping to the chapter on “Uses for Peppermint,” I pulled out my crisp parchment paper and began taking notes on Slughorn’s suggested reading.

***

As students began to slowly appear at nearby study tables I quickly checked the clock, realizing I had completely skipped breakfast and charms was to start in 5 minutes. My heart racing, I quickly gathered my notes and my textbook, all but shoving them into my suddenly-very-small bookbag, and practically running out of the library. Professor Flitwick’s classroom being located on the third floor meant it took at least 7-8 minutes to reach--considering the staircases cooperated and no dreadfully slow first-years were infuriatingly placed in front of me at every turn. Practically sprinting, I exited the library’s massive entrance only to feel a sudden whoosh of air and a loud thud as I slammed into a tall firm body, and steaming hot tea splashed all over my chest. I let out a shriek of pain as the boiling liquid seared into my skin. I felt my eyes automatically welling with panicking tears--my breath coming out in shallow pants, and every nerve in my body tightened. The tears overcoming my stiff face and trickled down my hot cheeks, I pathetically glanced up to see who had collided with me.

Tom Riddle stood before me, mouth gaping, aquamarine eyes timidly glowing with fear and confusion. Immediately thrusting his hand into my shirt, he pulled the stained fabric sticking to my skin toward himself, allowing for a brief moment of alleviated pain as the cool air filtered through my blouse.

“I--” A single syllable escaped his lips before Madam Pince rushed from her desk to tend to my abrupt scream just moments before.

“What in Merlin’s name!” Pince cried out, gaping at my shell shocked expression, and noticing my frozen exterior she wrapped her arm around my shoulder, tightly gripping to my arm, and swinging me from the view of the boy who had spilled his morning tea into my tender skin.

“We’re getting you to Poppy right this minute, Salazar!” The last part she whispered under her breath as she firmly guided me to the hospital wing where Pince exchanged my paralyzed body to Madam Pomfrey’s care. Submitting to the matron’s grasp, I realized I would be missing my charms lecture entirely.

***

After the incident Madam Pomfrey guided me to a private bed where she told me to unbutton my top and drink a glass which she handed to me filled with a sloshing green liquid. She then applied a deep vermilion healing paste to my tender skin, her soft aged hands gently spread the cooling cream across my chest. Handing me a little black jar with the same red paste, she smiled gently.

“Apply this thickly every night, and whenever you feel the skin is unusually hot. Come back and see me in two days, alright dearie? If it starts to hurt badly you may most definitely see me sooner.”

I nodded, gently clutching the black jar in my hands as the paste slowly absorped into my skin revealing the red and irritated burn underneath.

“Now off to your next class.”

My bookbag hung heavy on my shoulder as I walked toward the exit of the hospital wing. I swung my bag in front of me to place the small black jar inside, and as I stepped outside I was met with the tall statuesque figure of Tom. His pristine uniform tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders, his shoes sleek black leather, his tie lay cleanly against his fitted white top. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked down at me with his eyes, not his face, so I could see the underside of his chin and the base of his defined jaw.

“I’m sorry, what business do you have by the hospital wing?” I muttered, looking away from his penetrating gaze.

“I have been waiting for you.” Emotionless. Smooth. Thick like the paste Pomfrey spread across my chest.

“And what is it that I can help you with, Riddle?” My voice was stern, my eye darting to meet his, my tongue running along the inside of my lips to keep my voice from exposing my irritation.

“I would like to offer my assistance for Slughorn’s partnered test.”

“We’re not allowed to help one another during the test, you know this.”

“Not during, before.” He finally lowered his face finally, so there could be a line connecting the angles of our jaws.

“You want to study with me?” My eyes narrowed. Yesterday the boy harshly told me to study by myself in the hopes of preserving is already pristine reputation.

“You need my help, and...”

“And what.”

“And I may owe you a new blouse.” He said smoothly, gazing at my brown-stained top where his cup had collided below my collarbone and above my breasts. I realized the top button was unhinged, partially exposing my sensitive pink skin. Quickly buttoning the little ivory disk and returning the eye contact, we were silent for a moment, and he took a step closer to me.

“You will accept my offer.”

“No I will not.” My lips pursed, and I crossed my arms, his sea-green eyes flickered with defiance, his eyebrows slightly furrowing to my nonchalant response.

“I don’t think you understand the situation.”

“I understand the situation perfectly, Riddle. I don’t need your assistance for the test. I... I have someone else.”

“You have someone else.” He repeated coldly.

“That’s correct, I have someone else helping me study, but thank you for such a kind offer.” A small patronizing smile fluttered across my features before I could stop myself, and in an instant, I felt my heart sink. I saw his expression flash with aggression in a blink of unrestraint before quickly resuming to his normal critical glare. It felt almost powerful to have effected such a narcissistic little--

“Very well then,” he turned his head to the side, revealing the muscular tendons in his pale neck, where almost translucent skin lay atop cool blue veins. “I look forward to your... performance.” He cocked a brow and swiftly turned around, briskly leaving me at the entrance of the hospital wing.

***

I had been planning on seeking out the help of professor Slughorn since the disastrous malfunction of my brew on the first day of the test, but after confessing to Riddle of my non-existent study partner, I decided to make my way to the dungeons to ask for his help. Down the stone staircases, the air seemed to dramatically drop in temperature, and the damp chilled corridor made my still-wet shirt stick to my skin with icy closeness. Knocking on the stone doorway to the potions classroom I cleared my throat.

“Excuse me professor?”

“Ah yes? What can I do for you?” Slughorn removed his glasses after placing a small golden stem of some kind into a minuscule vial with a pair of tiny tweezers. He smiled and I approached his desk.

“I was wondering if I could ask for help before the test tomorrow.” I let my eyes stray to the numerous bottles, jars, bowls, and flasks filled with colorful liquids of differing viscosity that scattered the table.

He hummed briefly. “I’m afraid I cannot help with that, it would be unfair to the other students if I offered help before a test to only one group, don’t you think?”

“That’s ok professor, I just thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.”

“Of course. Well, if there’s nothing else you need, at the moment I’m in the middle of quite a time-sensitive brew--”

“I understand, I’ll see you Friday professor.”

I stepped out of the classroom, greeted with that all-too-familiar figure I had come to expect outside of doorways.

“Do you follow me, Riddle?” I made no effort to catch his eye as I began to walk back to the Slytherin common room. The heels of my shoes clicked with the sway of my hips as the sound echoed through the stone walls of the dungeons.

“I wanted to see who your previously mentioned partner would be.” A small smile creeped onto his crystalline features slowly and unnaturally as if the sculptor forming his marble face was forcing emotions onto his art-like exterior.

“And you got what you wanted, did you?”

“My offer still stands.” Stopping a moment, I turned to face him. The light from a yellowing lantern glowed out from behind his tall shoulders, creating a blurry halo contrasting with his all-black clothing. The light conformed to the grooves in his face, appearing to drip down his hollowed cheeks and peek from behind his muscular neck. His eyebrows raised in anticipation. I said nothing and stood still when his hand stretched out to grasp the handle of my bookbag, relieving my shoulders of the stress they carried. He silently guided me to the common room, whispering the password and stepping in together, my eyes were met with the familiar glow of the Black Lake glittering in from the skylights above. Still holding my bag, we crossed the near-empty common room to the diverging staircases leading to his dorms and mine. He began up the stairs, looking down at me from an even higher advantage point than his normal towering height. He beckoned me with his eyes to follow.

I am not going with Tom Riddle to his room, now, am I?

My legs obeyed and he led me to his four-poster bed, curtains draped. With a wave of his wand the thick velvety fabric cinched, revealing his bed, perfectly made, textbooks and parchment sat carefully in the center. The room was considerably darker than the common room, which was illuminated by softly glowing emerald lamps and light refractions glinting from the water above us in the Black Lake. The only light from the room came from the slanted skylights leading to the depths of the Lake above, the room coated in a thick pale green haze. It was as if he had been smoking an intoxicating musk, smelling of fresh sea foam and teakwood. He beckoned me to sit on his bed, and unpacking the books inside, he placed them next to his own materials on the cushiony mattress. He pulled up a chair from his desk and told me to pull out my parchment as we would be taking notes. There was something about being so close to him, silently obeying his requests that seemed strange. I felt as if my mind had been blurred, masked, like perhaps the intoxicating aroma wasn’t really a smell but an aura of attachment, and in that moment there was nothing more I wanted to do than to follow his every word.

“What aspect of the test frightens you the most?” His words seemed to spill from his lips like warm sap dripping from the rough bark of a tree, I felt myself sticking to it, caught in its sweet trap, inescapable and cruel. Deadly.

“Perhaps the timing of when to stir after the specific steps--and also how much of each ingredient... and maybe the order of when to stir versus when to add?” I felt my face growing hot.

“You need help with the entire potion, then.” His voice was icy, hinting at superiority and criticism.

“No, just those few parts.”

“You just described the art of potion making in its entirety.” A small half-smile slithered across his cold features. I said nothing, looking down at the spread of studying materials, feeling overwhelmed and perhaps a bit ashamed that I had gone completely against my conscience and followed the boy to his room and sat atop his bed and--

“Firstly, I’d like to give you this,” he pulled from his pocket a small red square of paper, placing it in my hand. “It’s enchanted to find me once you write on it. If ever you have a question or need anything, I’ll know.”

I stared at the unassuming gift in my hands, wordless.

“It can’t be used during the test, or that would be cheating.” He added slyly, and I let out a small puff of air in response.

“Thank you.”

“Well then, back to the business at hand. Is there somewhere you would prefer to start?” He resumed his unnaturally rigid gaze, and gripped the sides of his chair firmly, he lifted and pulled the chair closer to my position on his bed, which caused the muscles in his toned arms to twist and pull and expose the sapphire veins which coiled across them like serpents. Transfixed still on the tiny red paper, I didn’t answer. In my silence he reached out, and touched my chin, cupping my jaw slightly in his hand. He slowly pulled my face up to his view.

“No getting distracted, do I make myself clear?” His lips barely moved, but I felt weak to my stomach. My eyes fluttered shut, and I pulled my face from his touch.

“Don’t do that.” I focused my gaze on his nightstand, forcing my attention on his little reading lamp which had rusted embellishments of snakes resembling vines curling along the base of the lamp.

“Why not?”

“It’s distracting.”

Silence.

“Lets start with the ingredients.”

I wordlessly nodded, fumbling with the books until I found the one I had begun to take notes on before I left the library this morning. I handed him my notes, which he gracefully pulled from my hand, and eyed quickly.

1. Shrivelfig

2. Porcupine quills, (as many as needed)

3. Peppermint sprig

“Your first mistake was when you added the peppermint sprig too early. This step comes after you stir four times counter-clockwise,” he looked down at my notes again. “I see you corrected this by noting that the mixture usually must be prepped before the leaves are added, very good.” I forced back a smile. “The peppermint is quite important to this particular brew, can you tell me why?” Lowering the notes, he stared at my nervous expression.

“They balance out the intense feelings of...” I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Euphoria.”

“...which are induced as the wizard drinks the potion.” I finished, my breathing was shaky, and I felt uncontrollably nervous as he slowly shifted in his seat, leaning closer to me, I felt his hot breath on my neck as he silently exhaled.

Pulling away from his intimate stance, I stepped off the bed.

“Tom, I don’t think...” He mimicked my movements, also standing from the chair, his bed now lying between us, he put his knee and hands on the bed, and looked up at me from his lowered position.

“What is the matter?”

“I shouldn’t be here...” I walked backwards, finding the door with my hands, and hurriedly making my way down the stairs, completely ignoring all my books still on his bed as I rushed through the common room and out into the cool dungeons outside. My heart beat a thousand times a minute, and my breathing was coarse and shaky, I stood with my back to the icy dungeon wall, my hands traveled to my chest in an attempt to force my erratic breathing to slow. Feeling the hot flesh below my touch, the slight pain flowing back into my consciousness, I remembered I needed to apply my burn cream. Realizing I had utterly missed supper, I decided it would be best to have Madam Pomfrey take a look at my skin.

***

There was no chance I would be back in the common room tonight after what had just happened. I thought, as I swiftly walked up the dungeon staircase to the main floor where I would find the hospital wing of the castle. Following supper, the castle was quiet. Most students had gone up to their house’s tower or down to the dungeons if you belonged to Slytherin or Hufflepuff. The corridors were nearly silent except for a few students quietly walking up the grand staircase or whispering respectfully due to the general understanding that students shouldn’t loiter in the corridors approaching curfew. Still, I silently walked to the hospital wing, hoping Pomfrey would allow me to rest there for the night if there was room for me. Nearing the door, I caught her eye, and she motioned for me to come into the room. To my relief, the lines of beds flanking the central walkway were nearly empty, and Pomfrey led me to a private bed toward the back where a privacy guard had been placed to shelter the injured student.

“How are you healing dear?” She smiled softly and my hand went to feel the hot skin, causing me to squint with a twinge of pain.

“Still painful I see...” her eyes wandered, looking at the floor near me, and suddenly it occurred to me what she was looking for

“My bag! I completely forgot to bring it!” My hand flew to my face, a wave of worry overcame me as I wondered if I would need to go back to his room to get my jar.

Madam Pomfrey’s expression was calm, and as the soft clicking of footsteps drew nearer, the both of us averted our eyes to the figure who approached the guarded stall.

Tom stood at the foot of my bed, and smiled weakly as he pulled the familiar black jar from his pocket. His sea-green eyes glittered faintly in the dimness of the hospital wing.

“I thought you might need this.” He handed me the jar, and underneath the glass bottom I felt something soft and crisp, looking down I saw the little red paper fall from the jar and into my lap, slipping it into the pocket of my uniform, our eyes connected and he opened his mouth as if to inquire something, but ultimately made no sound and exited the hospital wing. I was now alone with the matron, who noted at how lucky I was to have such an intuitive friend as she watched me apply the paste, critiquing my techniques, and explaining I should always go thicker if I’d like to be safe.

“Do you plan on making your way back to the dormitories or were you planning on spending the night here since it’s already...” she checked the clock “Well it’s already 10:10, but if you’d like to hurry back to your dorm I can inform Mr. Filch you’ll be--”

“If you don’t mind Miss, I’d like to stay here if that’s okay.”

“That’s certainly fine with me. I’ll be out, but if there’s anything you need, just ring and I’ll be back as quickly as possible. Sleep well, dear.” I watched her figure leave the hospital wing, and the dim lights overhead faded off, leaving only the faint glow of the moon filtering through the windows above the beds to shine geometrical patterns on the stone floor. I removed my shoes and socks, resting them at the foot of my bed, and undid my hair, feeling it coil around my shoulders. I placed the red parchment on the stand next to my bed, and slid my legs under the covers of the blankets.

***

As I lied curled up, I watched the minutes pass, my body far from sleep. 10:40, 11:15, 11:50... My eyes were wide open, gazing at the ceiling far above me. No one stirred in the hospital wing, and hidden away at the back of the linear room behind the stiff curtain, I sat up, turning my eyes to that small paper Riddle gave me a few hours earlier. Playing with the soft red paper I felt the curiosity bubbling up inside me. I searched for a writing utensil and scratched a quick message neatly into the paper. As I finished the paper thrust itself from my hands and fluttered through the hospital wing like a butterfly, and out the door it went. Now my excitement was nearing the brim as I sat awaiting a response.

15 minutes no answer.

Could he be asleep? I thought as I pulled my legs up to an angle, causing my blankets to tent with the movement.

15 more minutes.

I began to assume he had gone to sleep for the night, and just as I lowered my legs and began to relax my position I heard the faintest sound of someone walking the corridors outside the open door to the hospital wing. My eyes flew open and I felt my heat pounding in my chest.

Was he coming in person?!

The steps became slightly louder, but still effortlessly soft and steady. Soon a shadowy figure met me at the foot of my bed. Stepping into the light, I felt my heart nearly throwing itself from my chest. The soft light of the moon that filtered through the windows above my bed seemed to veil him with its glow. His composure resembled that of a statue of an angel covered with ivy and carved from sparkling ivory that would sit untouched in an overgrown garden. It was delicate and somehow firm.

“You’re lucky I am a prefect.” His whisper was barely audible, and as he again stepped closer to my bed he found his way to the chair next to me, and I could more clearly see his still pristine uniform was on, almost as if he had gotten ready to see me. I said nothing, and my eyes could not leave his face.

“Is your skin feeling any better?” His words were soft and silky, and as he neared my seated position on my bed I realized we had unconsciously copied our exact position when I rushed from his room. “I realize I never apologized for spilling on you... that must have been very painful. I’m sorry.”

“It still hurts...” I didn’t mean it as a way to force guilt into him, I just felt so strange by our hushed and intimate conversation I didn’t know what else to say to him.

“May I help you with it?” Reaching for the black jar I did nothing to stop him, my mind swirled with anticipation and emotion. He delicately unscrewed the cap, his long fingers clutching the jar harshly, and the whites of his knuckles stood like snow-peaked mountaintops on his smooth pale hands.

“Unbutton your blouse.” He softly commanded, and slowly my hands undid the highest three buttons of my top, fully exposing the reddened flesh below my collarbone. He was unexplainably addictive and enticing, and there was no natural reasoning behind the complete trust my body freely gave him. Dipping two fingers deep within the jar, and pulling them out, they were covered in the thick red paste. In a moment of searing eye contact he carefully placed his fingers onto my hot, waiting skin. I let out a soft wince as a spread the mixture across the affected area, a few times submerging back in for more of the wet cream. It was calming and yet exciting to feel him touch me so carefully and full of purpose.

“Your heart is beating so quickly,” he whispered. “Are you nervous?”

“Can I ask you something?” I attempted to dodge his question, but to no avail.

“Answer me first.”

“Yes, very.”

“Go ahead. What did you want to ask me?” I noticed the ghost of a smirk flash across his lips.

“Why did you pull my blouse from my skin when the tea spilled onto me?” I watched his eyes stray and I felt like I could almost see him retracing his steps and accessing the memory.

“I learned if someone has been exposed to a poison spill or a hot liquid the best thing to do is remove the item that the spill happened on. Fabric retains liquid by soaking it up, which would just allow the toxin to sit on your skin...” He caught my eyes. “But since I could not remove your blouse, it seemed the next best thing to get it away from your skin in any other way possible.” I nodded slowly, realizing that his quick thinking saved me from a potentially worse burn. “I learned it from personal experience,” he looked away.

“Someone burned you?”

“No, I spilled a corrosive potion on myself a few years back.” I let out a muffled laugh.

“Then what did you do? take your top off?”

“Is that what you’re thinking about?”

“No! just that you could have done something wrong in potions class...” I let slip a shy smile.

“There are many things you don’t know about me.” A tiny but genuine smile danced on his face for a moment, before he returned his hands to my chest, carefully spreading the soft cream and blowing cool air to speed its absorption. The breath made a small chill run down my spine, and turning my eyes back on his face, I couldn’t help but fixing my gaze on his red lips. Red like my simmering potion, red like his crisp parchment square, and red like the paste he gently danced across my tender, red hot skin.

tags: @tmr-simp-pride

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fic #harry potter #harry potter fic #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine

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ofwolvesandbutterflies · 4 years

Text

never know

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: angst, smut, fluff

Tags: fwb!au, likeineedyou!au, unedited

Warnings: pining. language. mature content.

day 30 of 30 days with NCT

Synopsis: in which you’ve promised yourself countless times that ‘this would be the last time with Jaehyun’... and never once had you kept that promise

// I never knew love would hurt this fuckin’ bad // (x)

a/n: we started this series off with Jaehyun, might as well finish it with Jaehyun.

thank you all so much for going on this ridiculously long journey with me! thank you @jaehyun-eclipsed for letting me constantly bounce ideas off you!! can’t wait for a future collab ;)

[19:26]

“Hey, beautiful,” Jaehyun’s voice sounded soft floating through your cell phone speakers. “Are you busy?”

A strange feeling - the same strange feeling that twisted your stomach up in knots every time you saw, heard, felt Jaehyun - filled your chest with dread. Fingers found the edge of your shirt as you balled your hands into fists. This wasn’t a social call and you knew that. And you promised yourself that last time would be the last time you gave into him. But the thin - thin - line between friends and lovers had blurred long ago, leaving you hurt and confused.

Because Jaehyun smiled so easily. One look at him and his gentle smile, his cheeky dimples, his sparkling eyes, and you were gone. Whether he was dressed in a fitted suit and tie for work, decked out in that one pair of grey sweat pants that you loved on him, or draped in nothing but the glossy aftermath of what occasionally transpired between the two of you… he was much more to you than just ‘good looking’.

There were moments where you found yourself wishing you could see clearly how he felt for you. Like when he’d cook breakfast for you each morning you woke up in his bed, or the way he’d marvel at you for hours and hours on end after each lovemaking session. It was strange, the instances where you’d find yourself sitting on his lap, his arms tied loosely around your waist at random parties. Oftentimes, your mutual friends would ask what it was the two of you were. You would smile, glance at the way he bit his bottom lip silently, then shrug. He never had an answer for them and you had learned to live with it.

You wanted something more, though. No, not you- your heart. Your wretched heart wanted more than what it seemed he was willing to give you. So day after day, you pushed your unresolved feelings for your friend to the side and poured yourself out willing whenever it was more convenient for him.

“Y/N?”

You blinked. Right. You were still on the phone with him. The bitter taste of powerlessness washed over you and you exhaled. Fuck it, you thought to yourself. This… this will be the last time. “Sorry… I just- I zoned out for a moment. But no, I-I’m not busy right now.”

He said nothing for a couple seconds, just let you stew in the familiar pot of anxiety that came every time the two of you spoke. And in those few seconds, you considered the implications of telling him right then and there what he meant to you. If worst comes to worst, Jaehyun would say no. And then start ignoring you. And then deprive you of his playful smile, his gentle touches, his deep laughter, his- his everything for the rest of your life. You shut your lips just as he opened his. “… Can I come over?”

“I-I guess?” The words fell from your lips in a confused mess without so much of a filter to catch the unease. You could almost visualize the upwards quirk in his lips as you continued to spout nonsense, rushing to cover what really wasn’t that big of a deal. “I mean, sure. Uh, yeah! Yeah, absolutely, come on over!”

“You okay?” Jaehyun hummed, chuckling. The tell tale momentary ‘bloop’ of him switching the call to speaker and the swish of fabric sounded through the phone. You laid back, faint smile dancing over your lips. If you knew Jaehyun, you knew he was already getting ready to come over. A muted sigh left your lips. Who were you to stop him? “It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself that you want me over.”

“No…” you mumbled, passing a hand over your tired features. “I-I’m not- just... come over.”

“Are you sur-”

“Yes, Jae. I’m sure.” You hoped the irritation wasn’t as obvious as it sounded like coming from your lips. At this point, he came over so regularly that it didn’t matter to you whether he asked or not. A deep breath. Then, you continued. “Sorry, I’m just… I’m a little tired but it’s fine. Please come over. I’d rather fall asleep with you than fall asleep alone.”

When he spoke, the mischievous smile was evident in his voice. “Well,” he sucked in a sharp intake of air. “I don’t know about you, but sleeping wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, princess.”

“-Or you can stay wherever you are now, cheeseball. That’s fine, too-” you simpered. His deep laughter did wonders for you and your slowly beating heart. A sudden onslaught of memories from previous nights spent with him rushed to the forefront of your mind. In seconds, a deep blush covered your face. Oh the things Jaehyun could do to your body.

“No! I-I’m kidding!” he yelped. A giggle bubbled past your lips. He could be the biggest dork at times… Perhaps, that was one of the reasons you had fallen for him. Through the surprisingly high definition phone speaker, the sound of shuffling in socks on the wood floor of his apartment and him pulling on a pair of shoes played out alongside his even breaths. Soon after came the opening and closing of a door, likely the front door of his apartment. “I’ll be over in 10. See you soon, my love.”

With the click of the line and the dropping of your jaw, the call went dead. In one smooth move, you had chucked your phone to the other side of the bed, bringing a pillow up to cover your face as you screamed. Since when did Jaehyun call you his ‘love’?

Rolling over to glare at your reflection in the mirror on your vanity, you cursed your handsome ‘friend’ under your breath.

You confused Jaehyun. It was as simple as that.

He liked you. No- he loved you. And he thought you knew. He thought he was beyond obvious in those longing glances he would shoot you every chance he got. He thought the lingering touches he’d leave on your skin in the hugs, in the kisses, in the post sex cuddles were sufficient. Hell, the fact that he’d come over for movie nights, dinner, shopping outings, or for no other reason than to just be around you had to stand for something.

He thought you knew what he fostered for you was beyond lust, beyond the primal yearning for skin on skin. Why else would he perform the simple things in life for you like text you ‘good morning’s’, ‘good afternoon’ and ‘good night’s’? Why else would he tug you into his lap when there was nowhere to sit and curl his arms around you so that everyone else could see that you weren’t available?

Sometimes, Jaehyun mused, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, reveling in the way you shivered under his touch. Sometimes, it seemed like you knew.

You had to know. There was always something deeper than desire in your eyes when you looked at him. Every time you touched him, it wasn’t just burning passion that danced over his skin. It was playful affection. Amongst the sweaty sheets, shared touches, and hunger for pleasure… there was something else. Jaehyun saw it when he first met you in the awkward blushing mess that you were. He saw it the first time you kissed him, just a chaste peck on the lips after he had walked you home the night of that one party. He saw it that first night with you, in the way you reached out to him sleepily after he collapsed on the bed beside you, tugging him close like he was the only thing that mattered in your life. And he knew well what it was.

He heard it in the way you stuttered on the phone with him earlier before he came over. He felt it in the slow kiss you greeted him with at the door. He saw it when you gazed unabashedly over his well cut figure after he tugged his sweatshirt off, propping himself above you. He tasted it on your tongue as your body arched up into his and your arms pulled him down, fingers caught in his hair. And when you came undone around him, lips pressed into the side of his neck in an effort to muffle the sweet noises only /he/ could wretch from the very pit of your being… he felt it, too. The unadulterated craving for something more. For love.

But other times… it seemed like you would do anything to get away from him. It wasn’t as if you were actively avoiding him like the plague, dodging every glance he threw at you, swerving every time he reached for you… No, what you did was much worse. Take, for example the current moment in time.

“Y/N,” Jaehyun called, reaching out to where you lay, facing away from him on the other side of the bed. “Baby… Princess… Beautiful…” You shook your head after each name, covering your shivering, bare body with the grey polyester sheets covering your bed. When you were upset with Jaehyun, you never told him. Never told him what was bothering you, never told him what he could do to make it better. He propped himself up on one elbow, running a benign hand over the goosebumps that had risen on your arm. There was one last name he hadn’t used yet.

With a soft sigh, he brought himself closer to you, draping his arm along the slope of your waist. “My love…”

You froze beneath him. Jaehyun took that as a sign to continue. “Please… tell me what’s wrong.”

Jaehyun felt so good.

From the way he kissed you and the patterns his fingers made, dancing along the slope of your spine... to the way he picked you up, whispering harshly to wrap your legs around his waist. You loved the way his lips caressed your skin, nipping and biting to form the countless marks into bigger constellations.

And he looked otherworldly when he gazed down at you like that. His plush lips were pink and wet and his eyes blown out with something deeper, darker than carnal desire. Jaehyun knew you and he knew what you liked. He knew what drew the sweetest sounds past your lips.

There was an animalistic grin that spread across his lips when he teased you… and there was also the reverent way he cupped your face oh so tenderly upon slipping inside of you, locking your lips in an impassioned frenzie to distract you from the stretch. He’d swallow all your sinful moans, rocking into you at an agonizingly slow pace until you finally broke, begging him to give you sweet release.

You had no doubt Jaehyun felt the breakneck speed of your heartbeat as you melted on top of him. With your cheek on his chest, you could hear the frantic beating of his heart right below you, almost perfectly syncopated with yours.

“You alright, Love?” Jaehyun mumbled, brushing the hair out of your face with a light hand. There was that pet name again.

“I-I’m fine.” The lie came from your lips much too easily to be truthful and he watched curiously as you pushed yourself off of him. You lay beside him for a minute, waiting for the speed of your heart to slow down. An immeasurable sense of melancholy washed over your blissful reverie as you realized… Jaehyun wasn’t really... yours. That beautiful smile you saw so often on his face, it was the same smile he smiled around other people. The deepset laugh that rumbled in his chest was a chuckle you had heard in public. What proof did you have that you were the only one? Had you really been a fool to think you were special to him? Pathetic sobs built in your chest as you curled in on yourself.

“Y/N… Baby… Princess… Beautiful… My love.” By then, his arms had found purchase around your waist again, tugging your back flush against his chest. You froze, unshed tears still gathering in the corners of your eyes. “Please… Tell me what’s wrong.”

The two of you might have been sleeping together recreationally, but that didn’t mean you were anything more now.

Perhaps that’s what made it so difficult for you to admit that you wanted him as more than what the two of you were. You rolled over in his arms, bottom lip quivering as you jabbed him in the chest.

“That is what’s wrong!”

His brow furrowed as if he didn’t quite understand. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I follo-”

Why do you care about me so much when we’re only fucking for shits and giggles? Thousands of words sat on your chest, waiting to lash out at the object of both your love and frustration. But all you could to was search his eyes, doing your best to form a coherent argument. Where do you get off calling me ‘your love’ when I don’t even know for sure if you actually love me? was the first thought that screamed in your mind. People will ask us what we are… and-and I want so, so badly to say that we’re something more than friends with benefits, but I don’t know what we are at this point!

Jaehyun brought a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek to wipe away the tears that trickled down your face. I’ll look at you and your stupidly handsome face, hoping you’ll say something to reassure me that my feelings are reciprocated, but all you ever do is smile! Smile and say nothing!

The unspoken words sounded even harsher the longer you rolled them over in your mind. Tears continued to flow from your eyes, unrestrained and all you could do was bury your face in his chest, whispering a near inaudible “I love you. But you’ll never know. And that’s what’s wrong.” against the spot right above his heart.

Jaehyun’s arms tightened around you and he tilted your chin up towards him. All you saw burning in his eyes was the same thing you felt warming your stomach. The intensity in his gaze conveyed all that you had been wondering; you realized slowly that maybe, just maybe… you hadn’t whispered quietly enough.

And with that, he kissed you like he never had before, pulling away only to murmur ‘I love you, too.’

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adonis-koo · 5 years

Text

sate • jjk

↳ Summary: It was forbidden, your love for him. The glances you’d both steal when no one was looking and the whispered sweet nothings he’d say when you were alone. He would never be yours and his thirst would never be sated until you were his.

↳ Genre: Vampire!AU, Prince!AU, mutual pining, slight angst, smut,

↳ Word Count: 14k

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader, Taehyung/Reader

↳ Tags: Virginal sex, praise kink, slight begging, eating out, fingering, finger fucking, multiple orgasms, biting, blood drinking, forced orgasm, squirting, dirty talk, unprotected sex,

Note: it’s spooky season and this oneshot is a big rabbit hole to halloween!verse so prepare yourselves.

“Don’t look so depressed Y/n- maybe he doesn’t remember?” Those were not the words you wanted to hear. Of course you wanted to imagine that maybe he didn’t remember, maybe this was just a coincidence, it could be a lot of things. And if you really wanted, you were sure you could convince yourself with enough past humiliation and lingering embarrassment that he definitely didn’t remember. If he had, remembered it of course.

The Prince, was a gentleman and had never brought it up, but on the days when your neck was exposed and you’d bend over a little too far to grab something in his presence, you could swear, you could feel his gaze lingering on your chest.

Just the thought had your cheeks flushing red and your body pulsing in both shame and arousal. You had grown up in the castle, having been there since the royal guard stumbled upon you in the remnants of a crashed carriage, left out in the cold night of October, abandoned by your parents, you never knew a life outside of these stone, gothic walls.

You always saw the Prince and he would ever so often see you, but nothing more than a passing glance between maids while passing you down the hallway, or perhaps when you stood off to the side when the king was holding court. He had seen you, but he never truly saw you

Not until four months ago when the head of royal staff gave you consent to use one of the guest rooms to bathe in, your room at the time had been occupied by a wounded vampire in needed of both healing and rest leaving you without a place to wash.

It had been a pure mistake, you didn’t realize the guest who had been departing that day had previously left her necklace inside the room- and of course being the gentleman he was the Prince had went to receive it for her. What he instead found was you, having just got out of the bath and barely covering your naked, exposed body in time. Your hair had been pushed back and your neck fully of display.

You had never seen his eyes turn such a bright red in your whole life, his fangs had been protruding and you were surprised he had such self restraint to keep himself from just lunging at you and taking you on the ground, it had been late that evening before most feeding times for vampires, leaving them hungry and ready for their meal.

Instead he had shut the door before apologizing, though it came out more like a hungry, lust filled growl. You had been mortified and that day had played in your head on repeat ever since.

Ever since then his gaze had begun to find yours more days then less, and if you weren’t so pragmatic, you would’ve assumed he had even been searching for you throughout the crowd of maids that filled the halls. There had been a shift in the air ever since for you, and now being his personal maid? It was a true hell.

He’d never bring up that incident but today- he had referenced to it. Or at least you assumed, he did when you whirled away from him with bright pink cheeks and watching that fowl predatory smirk burn into his lips only but for a brief second.

He was going to be the death of you! You often stayed by his side most days down, fetching anything he could possibly need or want and when you weren’t doing that you were usually running errands for him or cleaning up both his office for official business or his room. His bedroom.

Being a human, in a kingdom of vampires was a very strange feeling, it wasn’t necessarily rare for there to be humans technically they weren’t needed, born vampires could still used turned vampires to feed on, humans were still welcomed nonetheless.

But to understand that difference was seldom something you could comprehend. A bedroom, for instance, was a general, practical use for a human, it’s where you slept every night, where you’d go if you were sick or tired. None of which was useful for a Vampire.

Vampires, rarely had use for a personal room, the only exception was that it was their private space, somewhere they could relax in the brief long life they lived. It was for humans too of course, but you understood it was vastly different, Vampires didn’t take luxury of sleeping most nights given it wasn’t needed and there was always work to be done.

You still didn’t understand why vampires were so picky on who entered their space, but their bedroom was almost completely off limits to anyone as it was a sacred space for themselves alone. Asides from their mate whom they usually shared it with and the exception of one maid to clean it.

The main reason they had a bedroom, was because that’s where they fed. Just the idea had you flush in the cheeks, feeding was rarely just them biting a neck and going on their way. Or so you had heard from donors. Most vampires, usually mixed their sexual appetite with their hunger when they fed, apparently the adrenaline made it that much better from the human- or again, so you had heard.

Adjusting the blood red choker you wore you fidgeted before sighing, “Yeri, vampires have better cognitive memory than humans can even comprehend. I’m positive he remembers.” Your mind had far drifted from the topic at hand though. Your choker wasn’t for fashion sake, all of the human royal staff were gifted with one due to its charm and sigal placed on it.

Should a vampire ever try to bite you their teeth would practically shatter before puncturing your skin and if they dared try to take it off, the sigal would cause their skin to burn. It didn’t have to be worn, but for those humans who didn’t want to risk assault usually wore it, yourself included.

Lots of humans usually volunteered through the donor practice making sure vampires were well fed, the royals kept among themselves though. Your Prince, having his own personal pick of several human ladies in waiting as even for feeding it was important it would remain in his circle of wealth.

You had heard the pleasure from it was like none other from plenty of people who had become a donor, but you yourself had always been too nervous to enroll in a donor practice, you hadn’t even slept in the same bed as a man before.

You had spent your whole life working to become apart of the Sisterhood who worked under the moon goddess and protected most of the forest. Or so you had seen and aspired to be like, you would first have to work as a nun though and thus taking an oath of celibacy. It wouldn’t be until the upcoming spring though, leaving you with less then a year at the palace.

Glancing down into the large goblet you watched the red wine mix with the blood that had been stored in the kitchen, a vampire delicacy, Yeri frowned before she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, her face pale and lifeless but it shone like the moonlight sparkling against the sea, her eyes almost hypnotically dark enough to get lost in, “I’m sure he meant no harm by his comment, go on you shouldn’t keep his Highness waiting.”

You nodded, offering a weak smile before shuffling out of the kitchen and back into the large hallway, guards filtering past you on rotation and a few ladies of the court giggling in the corners of the room, you, much like most maids were simply in the background of a beautiful portrait that was the livelihood of the castle.

You had quickly journeyed up the many sets of stairs, your legs weak and pulsing in a dull ache for protest to stop as you finished your last set of stairs into the hallway that you had become painfully familiar with.

Pausing in front of the large solid door you gave a gentle knock, you had always knocked, always frightened despite his insistence that in fear you would walk in without announcement and he’d be in the middle of feeding, even if it was unlikely.

Vampire’s always fed after dark or before they took luxury in sleeping and everyone knew that, had you walked down the halls in the dead of night you could hear the soft moans that filtered through the hallway.

“Come in.” His voice was soft and deep, dulcet and yet strong at the same time, Jungkook had already sensed your presence, the beat of your heart pulsing in the rhythm of the only human within the next four floors. Opening the door gently his back was turned to you, books scattered around his desk, some from personal entertainment while others had been from his studies.

Even long past his days as a physical child most still looked at him as nothing more than a youngling, and you supposed for most vampires he was, staggering at the young age of 225, it was still hard to imagine he was really that old.

He didn’t look a day older than twenty two at least, his long locks of black hair silky to the touch and his pale face sculpted with fullness and life making his supernatural beauty all the more striking.

Closing the door gently behind you before approaching him as you softly called, “Here, something to help the thirst.” His eyes flickered up from his book as you set down the goblet near him on the desk, his lips quirking upwards slightly and his deep red eyes- ones only the royals held seemed to brighten a little as he nodded his head in gratitude.

Not a word was spoken after that as you changed out his old sheets, he was fairly clean when he fed but you could tell he must’ve been hungrier than normal last night, the blood smearing against sheets in several splatters as you pulled them off, it was rare for the sheets to appear so...sloppy.

You didn’t know what it was like to have a lust for blood though and therefore never felt comfortable judging a vampire on how they fed, you couldn’t imagine what kind of self restraint it took to feed slowly and never make a mess. Pulling the sheets neatly over the corners of his bed before resetting each layer of blanket.

You couldn’t resist letting your hand run over the red velvet throw blank that went on the edge of the bed, it was so soft and brought a sense of comfort against your fingertips, “You’re always so fond of that blanket,”

You jolted, heart rate jumping as you clutched your chest at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, his eyes still focused on his book before letting them flutter to meet your figure, “Why not just take it? I can have another replaced.” He had noticed that? You supposed it had become a habit for you to run your fingers along the fuzzy, soft material each day you made his bed.

Glancing away from him you finished smoothing out the fabric before humming, you felt a weary smile pull across your lips as you murmured, “Red’s never been my color.”

You could feel his eyes drop to your neck, the dark red choker that clung to your skin shielding him from the temptation to have just a taste, his appetite never sated at night knowing you were in your own bed alone, those pretty locks of hair out of the loose style you always wore up and maybe, if he were lucky you’d have took your choker off.

He could feel the sting in his abdominal as his feeding hour ticked closer and his fangs threatening to lengthen, “I’d disagree,” He hummed, forcing his eyes back down to the book as you paused, taking your own turn to watch the strands of black hair grazed over his eyes, “You make red look divine.” you could practically see the flash in his eyes as they hungrily met yours with a murmur of his own.

Your cheeks flushed the same color as the blanket you had finished smoothing out as you now refused to look at him. It would be hard to deny the attraction you felt between you both, but it was also silently agreed to never go farther than a mere few whispered words saying otherwise.

“I’m sure red looks good on anyone too you.” You muttered before going to the head of the bed, fixing the pillows properly as you refused to meet his gaze that blatantly kept on your figure, his attention now more fixed on you then his studies.

Red, was often not worn by vampires- as it was a color that humans were supposed to wear by law when they went out. Red just like the blood that flowed through your veins.

“Come here.” His voice was soft, but the demand was prominent in his voice making you freeze before swallowed, your grip on the round cushion tightening before you forced your knuckles to curl from it’s material while setting it down. Obediently you walked up to his seated position, eyes on the patterned dark rug as you felt your anxiousness creep up on you and the heartbeat you knew he could hear spike.

Jungkook stood up before grabbing the goblet you had so kindly thought of getting him as he glanced down at the deep maroon taking a sip of it himself as the sweet liquid slid down his throat, licking his lips before his gaze set on your figure who refused to look at him.

Cupping your chin gently he lifted to make you gaze at his tall dark figure, the long dark raven hair slanting the view of his eyes as he thumbed your chin before sliding his thumb across your bottom lip, so soft.

He could only vividly imagine what it would be like to kiss them, pressing the goblet to your lips he finally let out a soft purr, “Drink.” You let your eyes flutter shut as he lifted the glass, letting the dark liquid slip between your lips.

The wines sweet taste was overpowered by the bitter twinge of metallicness causing it’s texture to become thicker than normal but you obediently swallowed the small sip before he pulled the goblet from your lips, letting his thumb swipe at the leftover stain it left on your lip.

He finally let go of you before letting his tongue drag over the pad of his thumb, his lidded eyes never leaving yours, “Nothing compares to even just a taste.” He leaned in as he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Glancing up at his towering figure your mouth quirked into a frown he never enjoyed seeing on such pretty lips, he and you both knew there was no point in whispered sweet nothings, or even flirting with the idea. If he ever drank from you, you’d be exiled no doubt and you had no family or home to go to if that were too happen.

And yet you still found yourself drawing closer to him, you couldn’t use his seductive charm as an excuse as your choker warded it off, it was his own energy that drew you in. Just before your lips could meet fate had knocked on the door causing you to jump back as he sighed.

Eye’s still shut briefly as if already knowing someone had been on their way up. You seemed dazed for a second, your cheeks red and ears burning before rubbing your head and quickly making way for the door.

Opening the door you anticipated one of the servants to be requesting you for something, your lips already parted ready to speak before they your brows shot up at the sight before you, “Lady Kang,”

You instantly dropped to a small curtsy, this must’ve been the lady in waiting he had chosen for feeding, wasn’t it a little early though? “My apologies, I would’ve left sooner had I known you would be arriving early for the night.”

Kang Minsoo only spared you one guarded glance, her face curled in slight disgust as to why a lowly maid such as yourself was in the bedroom of the crown Prince, “Apology accepted, be sure to leave early tomorrow though, I will be arriving at the same time. You may see yourself out.”

Her words were formal and sharp as she sized you up, you supposed she had every right, she was after all possibly the most likely candidate chosen to carry the next heir of the kingdom.

You instantly curtsied once more as you answered, “Yes m'lady,” You quickly skirted past her out the door before silently sighing turning around briefly to find Jungkook peering at you from the other side of the door, Minsoo in front of him and yet his eyes hungry stared at you, “Have a nice night.”

You closed the doors, cutting off your view of the Prince before sighing, pressing your head against the hardwood briefly, your fingertips brushing over your lips where Jungkook had previously placed his own.

You could already hear a loud moan from the otherside of the door as you clenched your fist in anger. How dare he make you feel so exposed, so open only to knowingly be interrupted. Did he just enjoy taunting you? Knowing you could desire him all you wanted but fully knowing you’d never have him.

At the sound of another moan, you forced your breath to calm as you straightened your back. If anyone where to pass by you’d surely look indecent listening in on the intimacy of Jungkook’s feeding.

Swallowing you turned your back, forcing the emotions back down your throat before making your way back down the stairs, candles lining against it casting a darker tone over them.

Feeding would begin soon for the rest of the vampires and it would be best if you headed for bed. No longer required by the Prince for the rest of the night, though secretly you wished he would.

Opening the door to your room you sighed, gently shutting the door before shedding your clothes for your nightgown, your hand briefly running over your neck while the vivid memory of Jungkook staring at the skin burned in your mind, your body was burning in such intense desire it felt difficult to stand.

You forced yourself to lay down, refusing to let your hands get the better of you as your imagination ran wild. You doubt you’d get any sleep that night.

You could feel the stares on your figure from most of the knights in the room. The Prince had asked you to accompany him on this meeting and more days then less, it was never needed and you often just busied yourself when he attended them. Today had been different though and you couldn’t place why. You’d never deny him though and therefore stood a little ways behind him, hands clasped behind your back as you observed their discussion.

“Your Highness, Incúrsio has requested for aid, their sacrifice to the dark lord will be upon them soon and their hysteria is heightening with each day. They fear they’ll be raided by the near pack Blood Moon despite our treaty with them…” The head knight, Marcello had reported, his eyes had only met yours briefly when you had entered into the room behind Jungkook.

Despite your presence in the room being unnecessary, no knight had the courage to speak up on it though, was it from fear, or from loyalty? You weren’t sure but stayed quiet throughout the meeting nonetheless, assuming they wouldn’t want the opinion of a maid regardless.

The village on topic: Incúrsio had apparently been under plague of a demon’s curse where the village would sacrifice a young virgin girl every year to keep from the demon destroying it’s village- though you had heard different tales saying it would swallow the world whole. You had always been a little more pragmatic though. And like most knights in the room- though they hadn’t said it, you could tell they didn’t believe the myth, and neither did you.

Jungkook remained quiet until then, sitting leaned back in his chair and his hands had intertwined while his chin rested on them looking in deep thought before speaking up, “I’m aware Incúrsio is used heavily for our most used trading route. It would make sense to repay them for their agreement to let us pass through, would it not?”

Everyone was quiet for a moment, as if not sure what he was getting at. But you had to resist the urge to smile, his logic couldn’t be faulted, it was not only a good reason but a kind one as well to send guards as thanks for tribute to the successful trading route that had been established through passage of Incúrsio, but more importantly it kept the wolf pack Red Moon at bay from suspicion of a possible attack on their kin and the villagers of Incúrsio more secure of their safety while all parties remained neutral with each other.

Your Prince was always a smart one, you’d give him that. You felt an odd sort of pride swell in your chest as you glanced at the back of his chair. He had always been so kind to everyone and never dismissed a persons concerned, no matter how silly and Incúrsio was a perfect example of his truly gentle nature.

All of the knights began to slowly agree as if finally coming to the conclusion and the meeting had since been dismissed. All of the knights leaving outside of one. Your childhood friend Taehyung’s eyes lingering on yours for a brief moment as you passed him a small smile, walking over letting him speak before you as he always did, “I didn’t expect to see you here Y/n.”

He had already grabbed your hand, an awful habit of his since he was a child but you couldn’t reprimand him when he had such a soft boxy smile adorning his features.

You had parted your lips to speak only for the voice behind you to speak louder, “Unless you have council with me Kim you may go.” Jungkook’s voice was deeper than usual and held an almost icy tone making Taehyung quickly straighten up, his hand letting go of yours as he bowed. Sending you one last look before departing from the room.

Frowning you watched him shut the door before turning to face the Prince, his hair had been covering his eyes making him look more broody and his glare rested on the door that previously shut before he allowed his shoulders to relax and his expression soften as he let his gaze cast over you, “What do you think Y/n?”

You tilted your head curiously as he swept his hair from his eyes to get a better look at you, “Pardon?” You asked unsure of what he had meant as you were still focusing on what had just happened. You couldn’t even say a word to Taehyung before he had been abruptly dismissed by your master.

Jungkook allowed a small smile to pull on his lips, finding your puppy like confusion sweet as he replied endearingly, “Incúrsio, what do you think? About the demon’s curses.” You curved a brow before giving a small shrug. You never thought incredibly hard on it, and it was mainly an old folktale told by the maids during work to make conversation.

“Well,” You paused, licking your lips as your eyes squinted on the table in thought, “I’m not sure your Highness, I’ve never traveled outside the city before so I’ve never been to Incúrsio. But if something as powerful as a demon would plague it’s village, I think the better question to ask is why. Do you think a demon plagues their village?”

Surely a demon wouldn’t have need for a virgin girl let alone barbarically feast on her. You lived and shared the world with Vampires, Werewolves and Ghouls alike, if a demon were to exist- and you were sure they did, you wanted to imagine they weren’t as monstrous as humans like to make them out to be.

Jungkook let a smile quirk on his lips at your question as he hummed, “Perhaps, I’m a believer in oddities. I wouldn’t be surprised if a demon did plague them. We’ll have to visit for ourselves one day I suppose.” You glanced away from him at his words, visit? Together? You knew it was meant as himself and you travel to accompany him. But you couldn’t help but wonder if it’s overtones had meant to sound like traveling together, as a couple.

“I’d rather not,” You settled for answering truthfully before humming, letting your fingertips tracing against the beautiful dark oak table, “...That’s where I was close to found…” You murmured more to yourself then him, after a second you finally registered the silence before looking up to see Jungkook staring at you intently, his full attention on you keenly as if taking in your every word.

Flustered you cleared your throat with a sheepish smile, “I...I’m sorry- It’s just...I never knew my parents, the guards on rotation from Incúrsio found me not too far off it’s road, they said it looked like a bandit raid from a carriage but there wasn’t any death followed. Just abandoned and broken and me left there…”

You felt your cheeks burn as your stare on the table hardened and you tried your best to smile but it felt more like a grimace. Defeatedly you let your lips drop before swallowing down your old emotions. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened, did your family leave you behind? Or had they been taken? Were they still out there, looking for you?

You jumped at the feeling of two large hands cupping your face, having not realized Jungkook had stood up from his seat, now standing in front of you as he gently lifted your gaze to meet his, “Never apologize for what you cannot change.” His words were sweet and gentle as he whispered them, the cold nip of his hands sending a pleasant shiver down your spine and goosebumps along your skin as you could help but let your eyes fall shut.

Unconsciously leaning into his touch as he soothingly stroked along the warm skin of your face, thumbs padding along your cheekbones as he calmed your nerves, “Don’t you wish for closure? You might find it there if you went.” He murmured delicately, his grasp on your face never leaving as he continued to let one hand stroke down to your jaw, making you preen closer for his affection, not aware of the gentle smile pulling on his lips at the sight.

At his words you eventually sighed, letting your eyes open again making a frown pull on his lips mirroring your own at the dejected, formal tone taking over your expression once more, “I was found on the road to Incúrsio, not at the actual village,” You pulled away from his grip as you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking at him a little more guarded than before as his expression crumbled slightly at your defensive stance, “Going there would be nothing but a bitter reminder of that. If you don’t have any other need for me I’ll see myself to help in the dining room.”

Jungkook turned around to hide the hurt in his eyes and the ache in his heart as he walked to the large window overlooking the courtyard, “Yes that’s all I needed Y/n, you may go.” You lingered for a second, glancing at his regal figure that peered out into the evening sky before turning around.

Your heart begging you to stay, but your head forced you out the door. It would never work out anyways. There was no need to stay behind and entertain the idea...though you’d admit, it was getting more difficult with each day.

It was like it was any other morning, you were tired and you were sure it was cast over your features after yet another long and painful night, thoughts surrounding the Prince in less than decent ways as you struggled to not submit to the crave of your body he had power over even when he wasn’t present.

You had been pledged to the Sisterhoods monastery like most of the human maid’s since you were a child, one of the vows you’d be taking was to submit from all physical desire, you wouldn’t take that vow until spring but you had been taught from a young age by the nun’s that it was a lifelong practice for a fellow sister.

You wanted to try your best to maintain purity and to abstain from any sort of physical pleasure but the Prince was making it more and more difficult by the day. It was so cruel, he could have any woman he wanted, even if he didn’t have a choice, he could easily take whoever he pleased. All you had was this one option, you couldn’t ruin it for yourself.

Your feet were beginning to ache and they took you out of your thoughts as you finished dusting around the office. Jungkook had just finishing signing off a seal of approval to one of the outer villages, guaranteeing they’d have shelter from the harsh weather to come when he spoke, “Y/n.”

You paused, glancing around as you rose your brows in acknowledgement, “When do you pledge?” You had expected him to request for you to bring him something.

Having him ask not only a question but a personal one made your lips parted, “Less than a year,�� You murmured, turning your focus back on the bookshelf as you wiped it down once more to try and make yourself look busy, “I’ll take my oath come spring.”

“And will you live in the monastery?” Jungkook’s voice was level and you couldn’t read his tone nor figure out why he had suddenly decided to ask. Pausing once more you debated your options. Was there a particular reason he asked? Or was it to just make small talk? He often did so with you on quiet days such as these when he spent them mainly in his office.

“Yes, sisters are expected to live there.” You answered, your back still turned from him. Perhaps for the best, he was already aware of your pledge and yet that never stopped either of you most days in getting caught up with one another, even if it was less than a glance. You didn’t necessarily want to move away from the castle, but this was for the best now.

Your feelings for Jungkook would only blossom with time and you knew they would become nothing but wilted and crumbled when he married and raised his own family. You weren’t sure you could be here to witness that, let alone be by his side as his personal maid in the process.

“I see…” He replied, his voice still unreadable, you were never disciplined enough to stay away from his gaze for so long, forcing you to turn around as you glanced at his seated figure across the room, it was silent for another steady breath, those dark maroon eyes burning into yours were worth more than a thousand words, “A pity,” He finally resigned, forcing his gaze to drop to the letter in front of him, “You’d make such a lovely wife for a man lucky enough.”

Your grip on your rag tightened at his words and you struggled to keep your face neutral as the scowl threatened to twist onto your lips. Why did he always say such things? It was already hard enough having to rein in your desires.

Having him force more ideas into your head, one where you were his wife, it was beginning to become more painful with each day, “All pretty things wilt in time, I’m not any different. I doubt I’d find a single human male in a kingdom of vampires.”

Your future really was bleak when you lived with almost near immortal beings, you turned back to the bookshelf feeling his gaze burn dark on you, and you could almost see his lips part in defense before snapping shut, as if knowing he had no say regardless, “Don’t say that.”

“What?” You looked over your shoulder back at him only to find him standing up from his seat making you sheepishly look ahead once more. You could hear the soft padding of his feet as they traveled across the room and your heart rate had spiked once more as he answered, “That you’ll die.”

You could feel the sudden tension in the room spike as silence filled the room, your movements paused but you didn’t dare turn around to face him, the sudden need to relieve the stiffness in the air as you spoke, “It’s true your Highness,” You meekly turned to face him before offering a small smile, “I’ll be rolling in my grave before your 500th birthday.”

That was apparently a big turning point in every Vampire’s life, for what? You weren’t sure, they were always so keen to keep their secrets among themselves, “All humans share the same fate in the end, that’s just life.”

Jungkook stood in front of you now, forcing you to crane your head to look at him, his eyes were hooded and dark, your joke not being taken as such forcing his maroon eyes to dim further as the frown forced its way onto his lips, “Not if you were turned,” His voice low and a slight husk making your thighs squeeze together involuntarily.

His words made a small breath escape your lips before you scolded, unable to hide your expression anymore from him as you glared towards the ground, “Don’t say something so ridiculous.”

Humans who were turned into a vampire were often bound to their creator for life and furthermore turned were never truly needed outside of procreation purposes. Born female vampires were not fertile leaving the males to mate with turned or humans alike. It was why Jungkook would not only have a wife, a full blooded royal vampire, but also a lady in waiting turned to have his children, which you would be neither, “I doubt anyone would be willing to sponsor me turning.”

Your blood practically boiled at his words as you whirled around, unable to even look at him anymore. You had accepted your life long ago, being human. There was nothing you could do about it. And you’d be open to talking about all sorts of possibilities if it were anyone but Jungkook opening the discussion.

“I would.” You almost jumped out of your skin at the arms that suddenly coiled around you, your back pressing firmly into his chest and you could vividly watch the walls you had built so high, so desperately to keep him away just crumble at being in his cold grip, those soft ice cold lips brushing against your ear with a murmur, the beat of his own heart- off rhythm from that of a human.

Your body was stiff at first but it was difficult to not relax in his grip, he felt so safe, it felt like this was meant to be. As if his arms were always meant to be wrapped around you.

“But you can’t.” Three words, it was all you spoke; for the first time in four months. You supposed it was time for this conversation with him, the one you thought for sure you both silently knew should never take place. And yet here you were, uttering them anyways. You always understood them, but they felt bitter on your lips and the pain flushed in your chest at having to admit to it.

His arms wrapped tighter around you as if speaking silent defiance, his hair tickling your shoulder and his nose dragging against your neck as if to replace his teeth, “Take off your choker.” Your body shuddered at his words, his hands pulling to the sides of your waist as he began to pet down the sides of your body making you instantly shift closer your head leaning back against him.

Your hands were shaky but they obediently went to your neck, fumbling as you went to take off your choker. Timely interruptions were always made though as a knock sounded on the door making you almost jump out of his grip. Jungkook inhaled sharply, annoyance flooding through his body as the voice called through the door, “Your Highness the court seeks audience with the king, it was requested that you be present.”

“I will be out in a moment.” Jungkook answered, his forehead pressed against your neck before letting his lips chastely kiss against it’s skin before murmuring, “I expect you in my room tonight, I will see you then, my love.” Your heart rate was near airborne as your breath hitched, his love? You were his love? It should’ve made you happy, but all you felt was miserable, a situation like this was always bound to end in either death or heartbreak.

Jungkook let go of you before exiting the room and nothing but the memory of him remained with you, openly you sighed whilst running a hand through your hair feeling lost and unsure of what to do or how to feel anymore.

You had just finished helping in the kitchen, most of your day had been spent there as Jungkook hadn’t required your assistance the rest of the day, well it more had to do with him spending most of his day in court listening to whatever was being discussed. This often happened whether it was plans of invading lands, help for the people, anything could be going on in that room. You were rarely needed there and therefore made yourself busy meanwhile.

It was quiet and the kitchen servants had just left to tend to the court ladies afternoon tea leaving you to watch over the simmering soup that had been prepared for the human side of the court.

The room was quiet and you had been left alone with your thoughts, Jungkook’s words still ghosting against your ear. Would you go to visit him tonight? Surely he wasn’t serious, you felt a twinge of worry gnaw inside you, he’d need to feed tonight and you could only hope he wouldn’t be waiting for you to sate his hunger.

“Gotcha!” You nearly screamed at the harsh squeeze on your waist and shouted words, not expecting anyone else in the kitchen before you heard the deep laugh fill the room as the grip on your waist was released, “The look on your face was priceless!”

You whipped around with a glaring scowl as you threatening pointed your spatula at the cheeky Vampire knight, “Taehyung you near scared me into my grave!” he was going to give you a heart attack one of these days, Taehyung not only had been your childhood friend, but a servant at the castle for as long as you as well, you had grown up together side by side.

The only difference was that he had recently become turned at request to become apart of the knights. It was a huge honor for a human and he had been hesitant at first but you had supported the idea one hundred percent and therefore lead him to his undead life.

Undead wasn’t necessarily the right word for it, humans often made up silly folklore for vampires, in which none of half were true. Vampires weren’t necessarily dead- though some could be, most were an entity all on their own with their own heartbeat and almost tar like blood, they were in a sense like werewolves except they were cold blooded in nature making them icy and cold to the touch.

“Like you’d ever sit in your grave for too long,” Taehyung replied as he snatched the spatula away from you, scooping up it’s contents before popping his finger in his mouth. Puckering his lips he hummed, “It’s a little salty.” He gave a boxy smile as you rolled your eyes, “Wish I could enjoy it the way I used too.” His nose wrinkled a little. You couldn’t say you were surprised.

While turned vampires could still eat human food but they could no longer sustain on it the way they used too. The need to feed for blood was now in Taehyung’s transformed genetic makeup now, it didn’t matter how much human food he ate. He would never be satisfied until he fed.

Sighing you grabbed the spatula from him before setting it down on the countertop, “What are you doing here?” You always enjoyed his company, especially now that he was always busy with the knights but he would always spare you every free second he got and given the interruption you had gotten from Jungkook last time you spoke, you’d be more than happy to talk with him now.

Every since he had become turned though, you’d only ever admit to yourself that things weren’t quite the same anymore, that was okay though. You were okay with it, in fact, you were happy for him, to see he had found his own place in the court. He served well as a knight.

“Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?” Taehyung questioned though he was well aware of his words as he curved a thick brow with a smile, your cheeks burned as you huffed, looking away from him. You had been well aware of his interest in you for some time now, but with the way things had been going with Jungkook you never had the heart to flirt with him.

Rightfully, you should’ve turned both your interest and affection towards Taehyung, he was far better suited for you and you knew he’d never let you down, not intentionally. His beautiful unnaturally blue eyes staying on your figure and you had his every ounce of attention, if you knew what was good for you, you’d let him have your undivided attention as well.

But Jungkook’s ghosted words whispered in your ear once more, ‘My love’ just the memory had chills running down your spine before you cleared your throat with a cough, feeling your cheeks flush except this time not because of the vampire who stood in front of you, “I’m being serious…” You peered down into the boiling pot with a murmur.

“So am I,” Taehyung replied, his voice softening, forcing you to turn around to face him with a quizzical look, you couldn’t help but feel cautious as he stepped closer to you, taking your hands into his larger ones filled with callouses from his sword training, “I know you aren’t interested in me, but at least let me try to court you. Who knows,” He gave you a boxy grin and a wink, “Maybe I can win your heart.”

Your heart, already belonged to Jungkook. You pushed the thousands of thoughts swarming your mind to the back as you frowned, you could easily say no and you knew he’d respect your wish. But...maybe you should give it a try? Things would never work out with the Prince anyways, and maybe Taehyung was right, maybe he could win your heart, “You really think you can?” You finally murmured softly, glancing up at him as his smile widened, his hands squeezing yours gently as he nodded.

“If you give me the chance,” He leaned his forehead against yours, his skin cold just as any vampire but it still didn’t feel natural to you, not when you had known Taehyung your whole life with deep warm skin now pale as the moon and his once warm brown eyes as blue and lit up as the night sky, “Let me take you out tonight, there’s something I’d love to show you.”

You parted your lips to say yes only to pause. Tonight? You swallowed your words at the memory of Jungkook, he said he was expecting you in his room...Tonight. But...he couldn’t of been serious. Whatever it was he was planning, it was a bad idea regardless. Surely he knew that.

No matter how much he liked you- or you liked him, things would never work. It was time you accept that and at least moved onto someone who you could learn to love. Taehyung had always been handsome as a human, his features had only become more sharp and regal at his turn, you’d be a fool to pass up a chance of life with him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to pledge after all.

“Alright,” You sighed closing your eyes, “What time shall we go?” You could practically feel his smile beaming down at you, his hands excitedly squeezing yours at the chance to prove himself as he hastily kissed your forehead, “9 o’clock in the courtyard, I’ll see you there Y/n.” You could hear another knight teasing him from the hallway as they called his name. With one last smile he exited the room with a spring in his step.

Sighing you felt a drop in your stomach, you could only hope Jungkook had changed his mind at such a silly notion and would go about his regular feeding. Rubbing the spot where Taehyung kissed your forehead you finally allowed a small smile to pull on your lips. Maybe life shared with him wouldn’t be a totally bad idea.

It was nearing time to go and you could feel the anxiousness build in you as you laced your bodice, would Jungkook be okay? Would he be able to feed throughout the night as he normally did. Hungry Vampire’s never bode over well and for him to be a royal. You sighed, forcing your thoughts and concerns for him to the back of your mind as you pulled the thick red cloak over your shoulders and pulling up the hood.

Stepping out of your room you made your way down the hall, stopping briefly at the thought. Surely it wasn’t too late, he’d most likely be on his bed, sitting patiently for your arrival as you had cleaned his room early that day.

His eyes would be near blood red by now, and his hunger beginning to set in...you felt your knees beginning to weaken at the idea before you shook your head. No, he’d already be on top on Minsoo by now, drinking from her and sating all of his needs. He didn’t need you.

The guard nodded to you while opening the large door of the caste, allowing you to slip out before seeing the familiar dark head of hair peering out at the moonlight, Taehyung looked so serene since his turn, he had naturally become more nocturnal by nature and the moon suited his pale skin almost making him glow. He looked ethereal.

Already sensing your presence Taehyung turned around, his own black hood cloak covering his figure and color clashing against yours, smiling he took your hands into his before pressing a quick kiss against your knuckles, “Are you ready?”

“Of course.” You offered a tiny smile as he began to lead you outside the large gates of the castle and down the large brick walkway, everything was so polished and beautiful in the vampire kingdom, they were far more refined than humans could ever be. Or so you had been told most of your life.

You had never been to one of the human lands before and briefly, you couldn’t help but wonder what the difference would be between them. Taehyung had lead you through most of the city that was now vacant most vampires feeding and briefly you glanced towards Taehyung, had he fed early just so he could take you out? You smiled gently at the thought, he truly was too kind for his own good.

“Alright, we're almost there, just close your eyes.” Taehyung looked like he did when he was little, his eyes brimming with excitement and his boxy grin looking almost childlike and all the more enduring as you rolled your eyes with a smile, putting your hands over your eyes as he lead you by the waist down the worn and weaved path of the woods.

You stumbled slightly causing his grip on your waist to tighten a little making your face flush and your heartbeat quicken in your chest. He paused making you stop for a moment before he spoke, “Alright! You can open them now.”

Pulling your hands from your face you parted your lips only for no words to be spoken. Your mouth became agape at the sight of the gorgeous lake, the willow tree’s blowing by the chilled breeze of air and the full moon had lit up the whole lake leaving it sparkling and transforming the moss that clung to its sides like seafoam.

It was beautiful, you had found yourself speaking those words to Taehyung who grinned like a child at your reaction, “I found it during one of my rotations along the south side of the kingdom, I always love to come here to relax after a busy day.” He lead you to a spot before you both sat down in front of the lake, the fireflies dancing just above the water and if you didn’t know any better you’d this was a home to pixies.

“Thank you for giving me a chance Y/n,” Taehyung breathed out gently, leaning into your side as his eyes washed over the scenery, his shoulders relaxed and at peace, “I know you pledge in spring but...I don’t know if I could live with myself if I didn’t at least try to change your mind.”

You fiddled with the hem of your dress, unable to meet his gaze as guilt gnawed in you before sighing, “There isn’t much life for me outside of the sisterhood Taehyung, I don’t want to leave the castle but...what choice do I have? Besides the sisterhood aren’t just nuns, they’re warriors, protectors of the woods. It’s an honor to have them take me in.”

You were true in your words. You had looked up to the sisterhood your whole life, while you’d start as a nun at the monastery for the moon goddess it was so much more than that. They were trained like warriors and fought not only with fury but also grace, you had been training your whole life with them for this pledge.

“Don’t say that, it’s not your only choice…” Taehyung murmured, his eyes becoming more timid as he glanced towards the lake, appearing a little shy which made you perk in slight curiosity, where was he going with this…? “Y/n…” He shifted in his seat before he let his own eyes meet yours, “I brought you here to ask you something, and I don’t expect an answer right away but…” He glanced down at his lap before bringing both of your own hands into his, “If you were given the chance to be turned...would you take it?” He asked meekly.

Your brows shot up immediately at his question before you shifted away from him warily, what was that supposed to mean? Turned vampires themselves couldn’t actually turn humans, only a born vampire was able too, “I…” You faltered in your sentence as your gaze cast down, “I don’t know…”

You were torn between an answer, because you still enjoyed life as a human, even if vampires looked down upon you as a lesser being. Most would say yes at the idea of eternal youth and life on earth for millennia, but you couldn’t help but frown at the idea, didn’t it ever get lonely?

Watching the world around you wither away as you stayed young, whatever human you befriended becoming old and frail in age before eventually going beyond the veil, “Why do you ask?” You finally plucked the courage to glance up at him again a little more weary.

Taehyung shifted once more, his gaze still timid before his eyes fall to your hands that were intertwined, “Ever since I turned I can’t stop thinking about you Y/n,” He confessed with a whisper, “About your morality, your time is so short on this earth it scares me. My master….he...he’d be willing to sponsor your turn- should you ever decide this is the life you’d like to live. I know it isn’t fair of me to spring this on you. And you want to join the sisterhood but, please consider it. For me.”

Your lips parted several times but no words came out. His master would sponsor your turn? You nibbled on your lip before looking away, feeling torn. You weren’t sure if you ever wanted to become a vampire. If you did that meant you’d be tormented all the longer at watching Jungkook grow into the king he had been born to be...Jungkook…

It came like a wave in your chest as you sighed, unable to look him in the eyes as you murmured, “I’ll think about it.” You would not.

Waking up in bed you felt groggy as you shifted, the rays of morning light causing you to squint before sighing, you didn’t remember falling asleep in bed? You had ended up staying most of the night with Taehyung by the lake, your conversation moving to more pleasant topics and you had lost track of time, ending up falling asleep against his shoulder. He must’ve took you back home.

A surge of warmth filled your chest at the notion before you pulled yourself from your bed, changing into your regular work attire as you fixed your choker that had become crooked. After you finished changing you went about your morning routine, waking up a few of the ladies you would help tend to that morning before going to the kitchen to serve those of the human side of the court.

It was nearing eleven when you made your way to Jungkook’s office, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little nervous, he’d be on a morning ride no doubt but still being in his space left you anxious. Had he fed last night? Surely he did…Closing the door to his office you sighed in relief at the empty space, you began your usual cleaning routine in hopes you’d finish before he had come in unlike yesterday which lead you to this situation.

Thankfully it didn’t take long to do your usual polishing and dusting before exiting the room, next you would’ve tended to his bedroom- except you were stopped short in the hallway at one of the uppermaids who near begged you to help out with one of the ladies in waiting who was throwing a tantrum about not having enough maids to help her get ready. You never turn down a fellow maids request and therefore made your way to the room.

The day had only became more grueling from there, the lady had almost snapped at your entrance and disregarded the fact that you went out of your way to help and almost immediately began demanding you fix her hair.

Upon her exit from the room you were positive almost all of the maids let out an audible sigh of relief, yourself included, “Could you get her a lavender satchel from the apothecary in town Y/n?” One of the maids asked, her eyes glossy as if she had been trying to hold back her tears from the court lady who had been nothing short of rude to you all, “Please? I must get back to my mistress.”

“Of course,” You smiled gently while nodding as she cried out a thank you. You had afterwards sighed, you’d never tend to the Prince’s requirements at this rate. Going to your room you plucked the red cloak before pulling it over your shoulders and heading for the apothecary shop.

It shouldn’t have been too far of a walk, you had already made your way down the stone walkway and into the busy town. Everyone was as lively as ever, stalls had just opened and the human farmers of the land had just set their produce out for one another.

Stepping inside the shop you couldn’t help but let the brief smile pull on your lips at it’s quaint appearance and warm homey atmosphere, flowers adorned the whole shop inside giving it a beautiful fragrance and vivid color as you glanced around, you had never been somewhere with so much color, it was gorgeous. You stopped short at the pretty wrath hanging from the front desk of the shop, the pretty delicate purple flowers making you lean down, the urge to pluck one just to smell it’s pretty petals.

“Careful,” You jumped at the sound of the voice from behind you, you had whirled around with cheeks slightly flushed at the sight of the girl, no older than you with a large crooked smirk on her face and feline like eyes, long, thick, beautiful lashes fluttering as she glanced up from you from her large round and pointed hat, “Periwinkle is often associated with witchcraft you wouldn’t want to be seen wearing those in your hair.” You felt an odd shiver up your spine at her oddly playful words, timidly you gave a nod and small polite smile in thanks.

“Would you hush and go tend to the herbs!” Another girl had quickly stepped into the room from it’s back door, her sister you assumed as she scolded, quickly walking behind the desk as she gave you a smile, “I’m sorry for my sister, she never knows when to quit.”

You briefly glanced at the sister who only let a mischievous smile pull on her lips before she sent you a wink, exiting out the backdoor her sister had just come through. You felt a surge of oddness come over you, what odd sisters who ran the shop. You quickly gave your note to the shop owner for the order of lavender and she wasted no time pulling it from the other side of the desk.

For as beautiful as their shop was, you couldn’t help but be thankful to step outside of it, bringing the lavender satchel up to your nose only briefly before smiling at such a pleasant smell. You were deft in your return to the castle once more, stopping short in the courtyard as you almost ran into a figure.

The familiar dark head of hair turning around in confusion before beaming at you, “Y/n,” Taehyung instantly took your hand to brush a kiss over your knuckle, “I didn’t expect to see you out here.”

“I had to fetch an order for one of the court ladies,” You held up the satchel with a small smile before feeling your cheeks tinge slightly pink, “Thank you for bringing me home last night…”

Taehyung’s smile softened, his hand squeezing yours before pressing his lips back to your hand, “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Your face had become even more flushed at his words. Those unnatural blue eyes that looked so foreign on him compared to those warm brown hues he had when he was a human.

“Y/n,” You almost immediately jumped from Taehyung’s grip at the sharp voice that came from ahead, the sight of Jungkook nearly made your heart drop into your stomach, his expression was neutral but you could tell there was tension in his shoulders, “There you are, you weren’t attending to your regular duties.”

You instantly dropped into a curtsy as Taehyung bowed, “My apologies your Highness, I was sent by a lady in waiting to receive an order for her. I’ll return to my duties.” You could feel his gaze burn into your figure as you kept your gaze from meeting his. As always he was calm and composed, whatever was going through his mind kept secret from you.

“All is forgiven, don’t let me keep you.” Jungkook gave a single nod, his gaze lingering on Taehyung briefly before he turned on his heels and sauntered away leaving you gasping for breath though hoping it didn’t come out as such. Must he always have such an effect on you?

Sighing you watched his broad figure disappear into the castle before turning back to Taehyung with an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, but I must get back to my duties.” Taehyung nodded understandingly before you bid him farewell and returned to the lady’s room and put the satchel of lavender by her bedside.

Relieved to finally have your offset morning rectified you made your way to the kitchen to help prepare for lunch. Your thoughts lingered on Jungkook the whole afternoon though, you had only seen him once today and out of all times it had to be when you were with Taehyung.

He didn’t seem angry though nor was he crazed by bloodthirst. You couldn’t help but feel relieved by the notion, all had returned to normal it seemed. And though you felt a little dim from the idea you knew it was for the best.

You repeated to yourself once more that it was never meant to be anyways. Nor would it ever work out. You were not only a human but a maid and the whole court had a tendency to snub both of which you fell under. You supposed what you felt must’ve just been seduction from him. Most women would feel that way regardless, the Prince didn’t need his supernatural charm to win people over.

Sighing you set the plate down as you helped served the human ladies in waiting as they all sat at the small table on the terris laughing in delight at one another's conversation. One of these women would be carrying Jungkook’s children one day, the idea almost made you sick. But this was always the harsh reality you faced. That couldn’t ever change.

It was nightfall and you were well aware you had gotten caught up in the day all too fast and had forgotten to clean up Jungkook’s bedroom altogether, sighing you supposed it would be another late day and Kang Minsoo would not be happy to see your presence leaving as she entered.

But unless she wanted to be took on blood stained sheets- the ones which were her fault. Then she’d simply have to deal with it for today.

Gently knocking on the door you waited a moment only for no sound to reply on the other side. Opening the door you noticed the room was empty, it was rather odd given Jungkook was usually retired by now but then again it also wasn’t uncommon for him to work later into the night, vampires didn’t require rest the way humans did after all.

You had instantly began sprucing up the room, cleaning and tidying his things before stripping his bed from it’s sheets, you swallowed a cringed at how rough the bed appeared today. The sheets torn and lewd marks and liquids covered it but there was not a drop of blood to be seen.

You frowned before sighing, pulling them off and into the hamper before setting out a fresh sheet and making the bed, finishing with all of it’s pillows back in place before folding the final blanket- the velvet one you secretly loved. Gently smoothing out it’s edges as you finished your final touches on the room.

“Where were you last night?” You almost jumped out of your skin at the harshly whispered words in your ears, arms tightly coiling around you body as Jungkook growled against your ear, “I waited for hours my love.”

You stiffened at his words before swallowing harshly, guilt instantly biting in your stomach at how hurt his voice was and how the anger quivered in its wake, you should’ve known better then to assume he was fine, “Do you know how vile it is to drink from those women?” His nose brushed roughly against your neck as he growled them out, “I was so frustrated last night when I had her in my bed when all I wanted was you.”

You could feel your lips quiver slightly and the burn between your legs increase as you frowned, staring down at the red velvet before finally murmuring, “You know as well as I do that nothing good would come of this. It was for the best....please let me go.” You weren’t sure if you meant it physically or emotionally.

Your words only made his grip on you tighten as he growled again, fingers digging into the fabric of your bodice and his cold breath against your skin causing goosebumps to form in its path, “I’ll renounce my whole life before I give up my mate.”

Your gasp was stuck in your throat his words his...mate? Mate was used in two terms- one in reference to a bond formed between two vampires, the equivalent of a human marriage, and then mate which referenced before marriage that likened to that of a soulmate. Seldom did a vampire actually come across their mate, and here Jungkook was claiming you were his.

“Please don’t make this harder for me…” You almost pleaded softly, closing your eyes as your hands wrapped around his arms, squeezing tightly as if hoping your grip would make him let go. You could bare plenty in your life, but having him act as if you were mates, you don’t know if you could go on any further with that information.

Jungkook fingers dug further into your skin making you emit a soft whimper, his voice gripped and tone serious as he replied, “You are my mate. I’m only telling you the truth. Why do you think we’re so drawn together.”

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his cold soft lips pressing into your neck, your eyes drawing closed at the soft sensation as his grip released into a gentle hold, his fingers petting down the sides of your body, “You’re the love of my life Y/n, I won’t let you slip away from me. Not now, not ever. You’re mine as I am yours.” He pressed kisses into your neck with each word, “Now let me make you mine. Take it off my love. I’ve craved you for so long. Don’t deny me now.”

He spoke soft ushered words that tickled against your skin. Your resolve had been broken so quickly as your fingers fumbled to your neck undoing the chain before letting it flutter to the ground as Jungkook let his own hands begin to untie your bodice.

Jungkook let his lips part as he grazed his tongue over your skin causing you to shutter, feeling the bodice slip from your shoulders leaving you feeling bare and open in just your slip dress.

His hands tenderly dragging up your stomach until they kneaded against your breasts, “Mmm! Y-your Highness I can’t be your mate…” You were already rubbing your thighs together as heat pooled between your legs.

His tongue left your body void but his grip over your breasts didn’t falter, “But you are my love,” He continued his trail of wet kisses along your neck, “I’ll protect you, I’ll turn you and you will carry my children, be my wife if you’ll only let me.” His hands were already pulling up your dress, suddenly pulling it over your head leaving you bare and your nipples perking to the cold air of the room making a whimper escape you.

The idea had nearly swept you off your feet and your panties clung to your folds in a sticky mess at the feeling of his cold hands running over the open skin of your near naked body.

His hand made its way back down your body before making you gasp at the feeling of his hand pushing underneath your panties, his long slim fingers grazing delicately over your hypersensitive bud, “Oh! Mmm! Y-your Highness.” Your arms finally shot up over your head to dig into his hair as he sucked down against your neck, the wave of pleasure shuttering in your body making you squeeze your thighs tightly together.

“You’ve never even touched yourself have you?” Jungkook murmured with a purr as he let his digits rub back down against the sensitive bud making a new louder whimper fall from your lips, “So sensitive and pure,” Jungkook smiled sweetly into your skin as you pressed against him harder at the feeling of his fingers only moving a hair faster against your clit, “I’ll have to treat my princess well tonight won’t I?”

Your hips embarrassingly bucked into his hand at the intense pleasure tremoring through your body and your need for more rushing through your body, “I-I was taught my whole life to abstain. You’ve made that hellish that past four months.” He chuckled softly against your skin before removing his hand from your panties making you stifle a whined objection.

Jungkook turned you around to finally feast his eyes on your body, your shyness had begun to take over shifting and trying to not cover yourself. It was in one swift motion Jungkook had pushed you onto the bed, pulling your thighs over his shoulders making your face turn bright red.

“Mmm I could tell, I could smell your arousal everytime,” Jungkook let his tongue graze over your inner thigh causing you to squirm with a whimper, “You’re so wet and I haven’t even done anything,” Jungkook almost groaned before letting his tongue press against the fabric separating his tongue and your soft wet folds. You almost strangled out a cry at such a foreign sensation but your body was burning in need for more, “P-please sir-”

Jungkook pulled at the band of your panties before his eyes lidded, “Say my name.” It was a calm demand as he forced his gaze to hold yours while pulling off your panties, you felt flush and exposed, your cunt dripping wet and slick to the touch as your arousal began to slide with a drip.

“J...Jungkook please.” Your voice was soft and pleading, your tone timid as your lips quivered your body ached in such an intense need you could hardly comprehend it. You needed him so badly you were sure you’d step into your grave early if he didn’t take you now.

You watched his lips flick into a wicked smirk changing his whole demeanor as he thumbed against your hipbones, “What a good girl,” He cooed out making you throw your head back with a whine, your cunt aching to be filled as he let his tongue drag against your thigh, purposely ignoring the delicious sight just begging to be ate, “Does my princess want something? Use your words.”

You had arched your back with a whine as he trailed his tongue teasingly closer to your dripping folds, “Jungkook don’t tease me,” your words were begging as you squirmed beneath him, “Please use your tongue, please!” You whined at feeling your pussy almost burn in desire, you needed him so badly.

Jungkook let out an approving hum before leaning down, letting his tongue swipe up a strip of your folds making you almost cry from the odd feeling, his wet tongue mingling with your juices as he inhaled slowly, “You taste just as good as I imagined.”

And in one breath he began given your needy cunt kitten licks while making his way up to your clit. You were a moaning mess as your back cramped from it’s arch and the soft bed beneath you offered no comfort as his tongue slowly dragged against your sensitive bud, “O-ooh Jungkook! Mm!”

You were almost incoherent as you thrashed beneath him your body in near shock at the intense pleasure running through your body. Your hips almost rolling along with his tongue as he dragged it against your clit before hitting a spot that made your vision almost blurry.

Gathering your little clit into his mouth he sucked against it gently, letting his tongue prod along it’s sides while you moaned helplessly beneath him unable to even speak anymore as the orgasm rode through your whole body. Jungkook had allowed his long digits to run along your wet folds as he continued to help you ride your orgasm out before pushing a finger inside you.

Pain instantly shot through you as you whimpered trying to pull away on first reaction, “Shhh,” Jungkook cooed out lovingly, pressing a little kiss against your thigh as he pulled out, gathering more of your wetness along his finger before pushing back into your entrance with ease, “Just relax love, it won’t hurt for much longer.” Your thighs were already shaking but you attempted to do as you were told. Whimpering slightly at the feeling of his digit pushing further inside you before pumping slowly.

Your arousal was messy and undoubtedly dripping on the bed by now as it continued to produce from your entrance, his gentle pumping picked up a little at the sight of your hips beginning to roll in sync, “Does it feel good darling?” Jungkook cooed, his tongue dragging back down your thigh again as you whimpered with a nod, causing the smirk to break back onto his lips, “Such a good girl for me, you look so pretty right now Y/n.”

He watched in almost blind pleasure at the way your hips bucked into his hand at his words and the way your velvety wet walls clenched around his single digit as you whined, “Someone loves being a good girl? Don’t you?” His smirk widened at your nod, your neck stretching out and head turning as if just offering yourself for taking as your hips quickly rode against his finger. Jungkook slowly pushed in his next digit, your little whimper like music to his ears as you stretched to accommodate him.

It was slightly uncomfortable at first but your hips refused to stop riding his fingers, the stretch not comparing to the feeling of the pads of his fingertips grazing against the walls of your needy pussy, “Do you want your second release?” Jungkook asked with a purr making you choke out a whimper as you nodded.

He instantly let his fingers curl inside you making you clench around him with a moan at the unexpected new sensation, pleasure shooting through you as you whimper, “A-ah! Jungkook, right there!” You whined your thighs clamping around him harshly, those silky long locks of hair tickling against your skin as his fingers dug into your g-spot.

“Mmm, you sound so pretty when you moan like that sweetheart,” Jungkook murmured, his hand pumping into you quicker making sure you were nothing short of a whining, moaning mess as you clenched around him harshly, body so sensitive as you bucked into him, “Cum for me princess.”

Obediently your walls clenched around him harshly as he hit your g-spot one last time, your body curling and aching as your second orgasm washed over you and your cunt needily sucking his fingers into you further as you moaned far louder than you ever wanted too.

Just at the peak of your pleasure you felt a sharp sting in your thigh before the pleasure in you almost twisted and snapped even harsher making your head fall back with close to a scream leaving your lips.

Jungkook’s eyes were bright blood red before fluttering them shut as he bit into your inner thigh, your blood sweet and light nearly making him dizzy headed. Euphoria nearly achieved as your hips rode against his fingers, letting them hit into your g-spot skillfully making your next orgasm arrive closer.

“J-Jungkook I’m- I’m..!” Your voice was cracked and another whimper fell from your lips as his thumb suddenly dragged up to your clit as your hips continued to move with his fingers.

Rubbing friction between both spots had you coming again as you moaned brokenly, nearly sobbing at the pleasure and sensitivity your body was under as you rapidly clenched and released around his fingers, a weird sensation bubbling inside you making you swallow and whimper before liquid came spewing from your abused little hole.

You were hazy and you could feel the wave of embarrassment but it didn’t quite reach you due to the pleasure your body was swimming in. Jungkook pulled away from your thighs, his usual maroon color burning blood red and color was flushed in his face making him more human than he’d ever be, his hair now wet and the haughty smirk coiled on his face grounding you back to what had just happened as your lips parted several times, “I...did I..?”

Jungkook released your thighs from his grip as he set you down, kissing along your stomach as he replied, “You squirted princess, and you looked fucking hot while doing it.” Your mouth went dry at his vulgarity but your body was relit at his words despite your thighs snapping shut. Jungkook had pulled away before unbuttoning his shirt leaving you almost swallowing your soft whine at the sight of his chiseled upper body on display.

It was when he let his pants drop that your lips quivered into a pout at the large cock that sprang from it laying towards his abdominal. His shaft was thick and curved slightly with a vein protruding, leaving you with the strong urge to touch it as precum oozed from his large bulbous head as he licked his lips, “Don’t worry my love,”

He lunged down, caging you between his arms as his lips sucking against your neck, “It’ll fit. It may be uncomfortable at first so tell me to stop if it hurts.” He peppered little kisses into the crook of your neck before parting your legs and slotting himself between them, grasping his cock as he pumped himself a few times while letting out a breathy moan.

You shifted slightly against him with a shaky breath yourself only to flutter your eyes shut at the feeling of his head running along your sticky slit, letting it drag in circles over your already sensitive clit as you bit back a cry.

Jungkook continued to let his shaft run along your folds covering himself in your arousal before lining his hips up with yours, with ease he began to push his tip inside you causing you to whimper from the uncomfortable stretch. Jungkook buried into your neck as he paused his movements pressing a little kiss against your skin before easing himself in further with a soft relieved sigh.

“Y-you’re so big.” You whimpered, your body clenched around his size as he gently pushed his shaft further inside you. You could feel his cock throb slightly at your words and his lips parted against your neck before sucking it’s skin.

“You feel so good princess,” Jungkook finally released a moan, forcing himself to stop at the sound of your whimper now taking his whole cock inside you like the big girl he knew you were, “I’ve loved you for so long now, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”

He kept kissing your neck, not only was he in physical euphoria, but he was also in emotional as well, finally having you in his arms after all these years, always having to pretend as if he didn’t see you among the crowd of servants, how long he ached for your touch, “How much I need you.”

Your body shuddered at his words as he began to pull himself out of you and rolling his hips gently into you again, letting out a soft moan your walls began to relax and stretch comfortably around him, “I- I love you too.” You finally said those dreaded, damn words you had worked so hard to never think of, Jungkook had made them so easy to say as he thrusted back into you deeply, his thick shaft running along your g-spot making you moan as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Jungkook instantly let his fangs run along your neck as his hips suddenly snapped into yours making you whimper at the rough sensation as your legs shakily wrapped around his waist, “Mmm, my beautiful mate,” Jungkook’s voice was filled with pride and lust as he let his hips take over, thrusting into you at whatever speed they pleased as you whimpered.

Clenching around him as he continuously dragged along your g-spot, his pubic bone rubbing into your clit as you moaned, hands tangling into those long silky locks you imagined doing so many nights spent alone, “Where did you go last night?” He suddenly demanded, his tone stern and hissing in possessiveness, “Was it with that little knight that wouldn’t keep his hands away from you.”

His voice snapped as much as his hips, you couldn’t even form a full sentence as his thumb suddenly reached down to rub harshly over your abused little clit, “You’re mine. Mine.” He hissed with venom, “Mine to hold, mine to love, mine to fuck. Mine.” He emphasized every word with each punctuated thrust that had you rapidly clenching around him as he roughly rubbed circles around your hypersensitive nub.

You were coming for the fourth time in seconds as you clenched around him harshly, eyes watering from how sensitive you became as the pain smoothly mixed with the pleasure he put your body under, “Say it.” He snapped, lips lunging down before he let his fangs sink into your skin making you cry a whimper as your euphoria clouded your vision and your orgasm magnified once more, his release stringing deep inside you as his own orgasm took over his body.

‘I-I’m yours! I’m only yours Jungkook. I only belong to you.” You whimpered feeling his body relax and your head become lighter as he drank slowly and with ease as his hips slowly followed suit until he pulled his softening cock out of you. Cum dripping between your legs and a sheen of sweat covered both of you.

His fangs dug into your skin and his thumbs rubbed gently against your thighs as he took his time, enjoying the only blood that could ever sate his appetite, his emptiness and loneliness.

Your eyes were becoming heavy with a need for sleep as Jungkook continued his feeding, careful to not overindulge or drink too fast. Your body felt complete, and whole, safe with him hovering on top of you protectively.

Slowly you let your eyes droop before allowing yourself to fall into a restful sleep.

Waking up your vision was blurred and your body nipped with a chill as you shifted, a little confused at first, you never had this much sunlight in your bedroom...Your eyes suddenly shot open when you remembered it was because you weren’t in your bedroom. Instead you were in the only bedroom you had become so acquainted with outside your own.

Jungkook’s arms were wrapped around you and your back was pressed snug into his chest, his locks of hair tickling against your cheek as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing a sleepy kiss into his bite mark making you wince from the afterpain.

You allowed yourself a few minutes to enjoy the silence of the room, the love of your life holding you in his arms with no objections or misleading words to shoo you from his room, it was perfect. You could wake up like this every day if you could...If you could…”Jungkook.” You finally murmured softly.

“Hm?” He hummed out, his voice groggy and his eyes still snapped shut, perhaps still half asleep and not even fully conscious of his voice.

Shifting slightly you let your fingers trace against the cold skin of his hand that had begun to stroke your stomach gently, “What’s going to happen now? If anyone finds out you bit me…”

Your lips quivered at so many thoughts crashing into your mind, what of the sisterhood? Your only solace now took from you. What about Taehyung and his love for you now fully unrequited. What was going to happen to you?

“If they find out they’ll answer to me my love,” His voice was deeper than usual, ridden with sleep as he shifted against you, not particularly worried as he lovingly stroked your soft skin, adoring the gentle beat of your heart as he let his nose rub along the sweet love bite tainting your pure skin, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Turning around to face him you, for the first time in all your life you let full happiness flood every fiber of your being, a beautiful smile Jungkook would forever cherish sight of staining your lips before pressing a sweet, chaste kiss against his lips.

Letting his nose rub against yours before gently stroking your hair and tucking you away into his chest, “Now go back to sleep, my love, all will be taken care of.”

#bts #bts x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #vampire!jungkook #prince!jungkook #bts vampire #bts vampire au #jungkook smut

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the christmas spirit | jimin

synopsis. christmas... did you ever wonder where it came from?

☁︎ imagine park jimin having an uncanny experience on christmas years ago, with a little girl that looks just like his girlfriend...

pairing. jimin x reader genre. fantasy au + fluff word count. 3,5k

ah, christmas.

a celebration for millions of families from all over the world, during a particular day. a celebration filled with laughter, presents, love. who in this world didn’t know about christmas, its customs and magic? the answer was not astounding: no one. everyone knew christmas and knew what it represented, both religiously and culturally.

christmas was, for many, an important event. this simple date on the calendar triggered a frenzy in everyone, a frenzy that would always start months before the date. whether it was the decoration shops, the chocolatiers, the gardeners, they were all too busy to enjoy this period. a period that rhymed with joy but, above all, with benefit.

sell. sell. sell. christmas was all about it. the shopkeepers had only this word rolling from their tongues, they, who painted their shop fronts red and green, decorating them with poorly drawn snowflakes and glittering garlands that made the most innocent eyes dream.

all citizens throughout the world were overwhelmed, but no one was as occupied as a certain city.

christunix was a city so small and remote from all that it was not on any atlas, planisphere, nor globe. few really knew where it was and what it contained. the wanderers, black-hearted, could only see from the town the multicoloured lights filtered through a thick fog that seemed to come to life if you tried to cross it.

although almost unknown to all, kept intact by this magical gate, those lucky enough to know about it were very real. they were rare and were the men and women who had kept their child’s eyes despite their passage into the adult world. they were the ones who still managed to marvel at the little things that illuminated everyday life, in their routine coloured with a monotonous grey. they were the ones who had once stumbled upon an old grimoire called “the christmas story”.

if one day you ever had this work of inestimable value in your hands, through these yellowed and worn out pages, you would discover in golden inked words that the christmas tradition was born at the heart of this mysterious village as well as the white-bearded man that would become its allegory.

the first man, who would be called differently by children all over the world, had initially only been a toy manufacturer called klaus. of this man, the inhabitants of christunix did not know many things, all too young to have known him. only his faithful companion, an immortal but old elf — with a name far too long — could boast of having rubbed shoulders with him.

every sunday, he would gather the village’s children in his cottage and tell them stories of yesteryear about his companion. the first distribution of gifts, described as catastrophic, was one of the best known and adored tales for the children. this had happened several centuries before but, for the elf, it had happened a day before. just yesterday, he was helping his friend make toys, just yesterday he was riding in a flying sled to distribute billions of gifts to kind children from around the world.

ah… those days were as close as they were far away.

no one, not even the grimoire, knew how klaus had died. all the rumours, each crazier than the other, circulated in the village. some spoke of a sled accident, others of natural death. however, many thought it was the winter spirit that had enveloped him when his time had come, making him disappear from the face of the earth in a cloud of snow, leaving behind his workshop, his elves, and his knowledge.

a natural knowledge which mother nature had blessed him with, and the descendants of his lineage. an innate talent, the capacity to make from a simple piece of wood a functional toy able to let children’s eyes shine. scientists would talk about a hereditary gene; the inhabitants of the village would talk about a gift.

only the sons of the klaus clan could bear this blessing. for centuries, this was how the family worked. the siblings’ first son, the presumed heir, was to take part in a ceremony on the winter solstice day of his first year on earth. when the moon was at its highest point in the starry sky, empty of all visual pollution, and the snow fell in hundreds of flakes, the one charged with reigning over the world of christmas would place the heir on a sliced tree trunk. it was said that klaus himself had used the wood of this tree to make his first toy.

if the heir were to be a bearer of the gift, then, according to tradition, a white and red aurora borealis would appear in the sky, white dust would surround the newborn’s body as a sign of eternal protection from the winter spirit.

this rare event had only happened five times, and it was long hoped that the new heir would be the sixth. snomi was not the eldest of his family but he was the only boy, making him the worthy heir of the gift. all the inhabitants of the village had hoped for his birth, a blessing. without a boy, what would become of christmas?

when it was finally announced throughout the village that a boy had been born, the inhabitants had celebrated this news for a whole week.

you see, klaus’ fifth descendant had been unlucky about his offspring, some even spoke of a curse. five children, four daughters. the last one, the boy, was thus perceived as a miracle.

for the next three hundred and sixty-five days, all covered him with presents, endowed him as if he was their own child. the inhabitants of christunix were traditional people, attached to legends and customs. knowing that this child would one day be the one who would manage christmas triggered in them a sense of pride and need to protect him.

when the winter solstice finally arrived, the entire village climbed the blue mountain to reach the highest point of their land. all piled up around the sawn tree trunk. in the centre of this elated crowd, the child’s parents, both dressed in their traditional white and red coats, stood proudly. next to them, the old elf was alternating his gaze between the position of the moon and his gold-bed watch, old of a few centuries.

“one more minute.”

the mother transferred the sleeping baby into the arms of her father, who advanced towards the tree trunk, snow screeching under each of his steps. he laid him on the wood, caressing with his huge thumb the delicate skin of his cheek. a tear of pride slipped down his cheek and landed in his beard, but no one noticed; all had their eyes turned on the sky.

“let the ceremony of the heir begin.”

the moment the old elf’s voice sounded, the moonlight aligned with the tree trunk, thus illuminating the baby’s face with a sky-blue hue. all the inhabitants began singing in an ancient language, a mixture of scandinavian and latin. with their words, they were invoking the winter spirit and the wandering soul of klaus, the only beings capable of awakening the gift sleeping within the heir’s heart.

when the last words of the traditional song rang out, the inhabitants waited for the aurora borealis to appear.

but it never came.

whispers rose in the ranks, cries echoed. what was going on? had the ceremony been performed correctly? was it a calendar error? a lot of questions demanding answers were shouted at the parents who remained frozen, disabused. a strong breeze rose in the air, running through everyone’s shivering bodies, making the baby cried.

the child did not possess the gift.

meanwhile, far away from all the chaos, in the easternmost house of the village, the screams echoed.

“put that down, sunmi! you’re going to f—” a thud, followed by crying. “fall… well… oh my god! y/n, leave that elf alone!” the oldest of the four daughters, iclyn, shouted.

hearing her first name, the youngest of the girls wobbled towards her father’s workshop while giggling. her immaculate white hair, button nose and always pink cheekbones gave her the appearance of a little angel. however, as many have said, appearances can sometimes be misleading. y/n, especially because of her age of no more than five years, was the most agitated of the fifth heir’s daughters. while the twins iclyn and lumi exuded the wisdom that came with being a descendant of klaus, the youngest perfectly symbolised the malice and carelessness of children.

still laughing, her eyes sparkling, the child entered her father’s huge workshop. toys filled gigantic shelves and the noise seemed to be a constant element in this real factory. the elves, though most of the time playful, were busy with their task.

making, painting and packing thousands of gifts was no mean feat.

“miss klaus, what are you doing here? you should be at the ceremony!”

juniper, one of her father’s closest elves, pulled her by the sleeve, wishing to bring her back to her house. this was without considering the stubbornness of the girl who planted her feet on the ground, making it difficult for the elf and his little arms to drag her back.

“don’t want to! it boring! not even cookies… cold…” she murmured, arms folded, a pout on her lips. “i want to see toys!”

“miss klaus, come back here!”

ignoring the elf’s words, the girl began to saunter in the wide aisles of the workshop. it was her favourite place in the village. to know that her father was organising all this was very impressive, especially for a four-year-old. her sparkling gaze observed the actions of the elves. she laughed when she saw one tangled in the gift paper. sometimes tiny ‘wow’ would escape her mouth at the sight of toys, all more beautiful than the other.

however, it was a very special object that caught her attention, awakening her childish curiosity.

a snowball, depicting a fireplace decorated with christmas stockings, was delicately placed on the desk where her father would imagine and design new toys. looking around her once, then twice, to see if no one was watching her, she walked silently towards the workbench too big for her. her wrinkled eyes, a sign of her intense thinking session, opened wide while a blissful smile was painted on her face.

she had an idea.

the child grabbed cardboard boxes, which would later be used to pack bicycles, and stacked them to create an almost-staircase. with difficulty—her little arms did not contain much strength—she hoisted herself to the top, nearly falling several times. when she was finally standing on the workbench, y/n took the snowball in her little pudgy hands.

“wow…”

she hadn’t even shaken it, but snowflakes were already falling on the chimney. on closer inspection, she saw that it was lighted. putting it down at its original location, the child’s curious pupils swept the office with her eyes. she realised that on it was placed a gigantic map of the world. in her head, the names of the cities she already knew jostled.

her father, and her grandfather before him, kept telling exciting stories about all the cities they would visit on december 25th. these tales would change over the years, and the cities were never twice the same.

rubbing her skull with her fist, the little girl tried to remember the name of a city her grandfather would always talk about.

se…

sea…

“seoul!”

the moment the name of the city was pronounced, the snowball began to turn on its own. faster and faster, until the chimney was gone, giving way to a blurry image. the doors of the workshop opened in a big crash, slamming against the walls. a thick cloud of snow dust entered the room, long and lively as a snake, and flew around the workbench as if it was looking for someone. all the elves who had turned to the entrance at the noise tried to close the doors, but nothing helped. many were already starting to agitate, to hide under the tables, terrified. however, the girl kept her gaze fixed on the snowball, which seemed to be illuminated in a red so gleaming that she had to close her eyes, dazzled.

the last thing she felt was something enveloping her, like a huge cold but comforting cloak.

it had now been an hour since the little boy’s parents had come to wish him a good night, but sleep did not seem to want to weigh down the young park jimin’s eyelids. no matter how many times he changed positions, morpheus didn’t want him in his arms.

and for good reason: jimin was excited. christmas was now only a few days away and he had already planned his ploy. you see, it was now two years ago, when he was three years old, that the boy had made his decision.

he would catch santa claus.

boys in his class kept saying that santa claus didn’t exist. he didn’t believe them nor the nonsense they were saying. he knew, santa claus existed. every year, on the night of the 24th to the 25th, he would try to stay awake so he could see santa claus and his hood. and he had seen him! he was sure of it! the boy had even seen the great gentleman eat the cookies and drink the glass of milk he had carefully prepared.

last year, though, he had not been fast enough; while the boy had just come down the last step of the stairs, ready to make his presence known, the bearded man had already disappeared in the chimney.

sighing at this memory, jimin rose from his bed, his brown hair dishevelled. fumbling his way along not to wake his parents and little sister, he went down the stairs to get himself something to drink. maybe it would help him sleep? he’d once seen his mom do that.

as he passed through the living room to reach the desired place, a strange vision made him rub his eyes with his fists to make sure what he saw was real.

a little girl who had just appeared in the hearth of his chimney looked at him with eyes as wide as his own.

“who are you?” he asked.

she was dressed strangely. on her snow-white hair, a red bobble hat had been laid without much attention, causing it to fall before her sparkling eyes. her clothes were similar to those that jimin had seen the elves wear in the christmas movies that were on tv. the only difference was that she was not dressed in green but in red.

the stranger blinked several times before shaking her head from right to left. she didn’t understand him.

great.

as he was about to mime his question again, the little girl’s attention turned away from him and settled on the christmas tree, lit in red and gold. moving gently towards it, she touched with her little fingers the decorations that seemed to sparkle to her touch. a childish laugh, which brought snowflakes to appear in the sky, resounded in the room as she pointed to a little santa claus in felt.

“pappa!”

“no, it’s santa claus!” jimin corrected her, unhappy to know that his hero was not known to the young woman.

“min pappa!”

“hey, no! don’t touch that!” he ran towards her and grabbed her arm to remove her as quickly as possible from a drawing she was about to touch. he had put it at the foot of the tree a few days ago.

on the sheet of paper was clumsily drawn a race car that jimin had forgotten to write on his letter to santa claus. He hoped that the old red man could create him one after seeing it. this race car was the gift that mattered the most to jimin, it was out of the question that he let this weird girl approach it.

“se på!” the girl said, pointing to the windows that had just opened. following her gaze, jimin gasped, his eyes now amazed.

a glittering, almost transparent hand made of snow had just appeared in the parks’ lounge. tt wandered around in the air for a few moments, stopping to tickle the girl’s chin with two fingers. the latter, after laughing, cheeks now red with happiness, showed to this magical apparition the drawing of the car. for a few moments, the girl and the hand had a silent conversation that ended with a bright smile from the child.

jimin, who had remained motionless until then, startled when the hand advanced towards him.

“miss Klaus! you’re in a fix, i can tell you! why did you run away like that?! and in korea into the bargain!”

a small man with sky blue skin and pointed ears appeared in turn in the chimney. jimin had no time to understand what was going on that the newcomer was already grabbing the girl’s arm and pulling her to the chimney where they both disappeared in a cloud of red and white glitter.

the hand, which had hidden as if it did not want to be seen by the elf, flew again towards jimin, who, terrified, began to tremble. they remained silent for a long time, before it magically disappeared, leaving behind snowflakes and a race car.

the little boy fainted.

the peaceful atmosphere in the living room had a soporific effect on the couple lying on the couch. the christmas film—full of clichés—that was displayed on the tv screen had long been forgotten, as were the two cups of hot chocolate that no longer gave off smoke. a few snowflakes fell on seoul but seeing them, all the inhabitants knew they would not be there the next day. they didn’t mind, even just seeing snow made them happy. it would always wrap the city with its delicate white coat no matter for how many hours, painting the landscape with the christmas spirit.

jimin struggled against sleep that seemed to approach him a little more with each caress in his hair. he was slumped against his girlfriend’s chest, enjoying this moment of serenity which was discordant from their exalted daily lives. the words they were saying were whispered so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that surrounded them.

“y/n?” a ‘yes, honey?’ was heard in response, urging him to continue while the caresses on his skull became softer. “did i ever tell you that you reminded me of someone i met as a kid?”

“oh, is that right?” the woman asked, her voice muffled by Jimin’s hair in which she had buried her face.

“yes. i think I was five or six at the time… or something like that. i was young enough to believe in santa claus, basically. anyway, one night i went to get a glass of water in the kitchen. i was so tired that i had a hallucination. it was as if i had seen a girl appear in my chimney and she had summoned this weird and magical hand that made me a car. weird, isn’t it? she had white hair just like you, though.”

“hmm…”

“maybe it was a prophetic dream, i knew you were going to be the love of my life.” he laughed at his girlfriend’s cringe expression. “i love you.”

slowly, she gave him a kiss on his cheek, saying these three little words back. her caresses continued until the man’s eyes closed. smiling, she grazed jimin’s cheek with her thumb, translating in this little gesture all the affection she had for him.

her eyes swept away the apartment they shared. on the walls and shelves were scattered memories, photos; all these things traced their history, which had been going on for a year now. in the entrance, on the small table where there was a bowl with keys, behind the pile of mail waiting to be read, was placed a snow globe representing a fireplace decorated with Christmas stockings.

suddenly, the windows of the living room opened, and even though the noise startled her, it did not disrupt jimin’s sleep who was now using her chest as a pillow. a trail of snow dust appeared in the living room, twirling for a few moments around the couple before it put a letter in the woman’s hand. she hurried to open it, reading its content, written in familiar handwriting.

miss y/n klaus,

how are you? personally, i can’t even sleep as your father keeps telling me how much he misses you. everyone here does. seeing each other a month per year is too little according to the villagers.

i know your life in seoul takes up a lot of your free time. however, according to christunix’s council, it was considered judicious for you to return to the village during the week. all you have to do is take your snowball, i won’t be wrong to assume you know how to use it.

without you, it’s a bit of a mess. even if the elves work hard and your drawings are precise, it’s always better when you’re on the field to check in real-time the work that has been done. your father has, as usual, high expectations even if he is no longer in the position. he keeps complaining. you must return as soon as possible or, i assure you, the old elf will get rid of him before you can say ‘christmas’.

after all, what would christunix be without the sixth heir?

p.s. your mother and siblings keep tormenting me for you to introduce them to that boy you talk about in your letters. if you feel like it, bring him back with you. maybe it’s time he finds out what his fiancée’s job is.

kind regards,

juniper.

#jimin fluff #park jimin #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts au #jimin x y/n #jimin x reader #jimin imagine #jimin fanfic #bts fantasy au #park jimin fanfic #park jimin fluff #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #park jimin x y/n #bts #bts christmas #jimin christmas

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squirmymochi · 4 years

Text

Hello again! This story was commissioned by a lovely repeat customer and I got permission to post it for y’all to enjoy. Hope you like it!

***

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

Connor chants along with the other boys as Jack downs the rest of his beer, his throat working up and down as he drinks. His sweat glistens slightly against his skin, catching the mid-morning light as he tips his head back to finish the last few drops before gasping in a breath of air and crushing the empty can in his hands.

“Yeah!” Will cheers from the passenger’s seat, laughing goofily. “Didn’t think you could actually do it!”

“Did he finish?” Henry asks, taking his eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to glance backwards at Jack. Connor doesn’t really mind--they haven’t seen another car in at least five minutes, and the expanse of road ahead of them is as straight as an arrow and smooth like glass.

The four of them are on a road trip, having finished their third year of college together a couple of short weeks ago, and in order to save money on gas they’d decided to pile into Henry’s old four-person car instead of taking two separate vehicles. It’s a little bit cramped, and very hot with their combined body temperatures warming up the small space, but luckily enough, Jack had the foresight to fill one of their mini coolers with sodas and beer, squeezing it between his and Connor’s feet in the backseat.

Connor’s pretty sure he’d have already died of heatstroke if it weren’t for Jack’s smart thinking. His smarts are one of the few things Connor admires about him--As the brain of the group, Jack always has the solution for any problem, and he’s kind enough not to judge, either. Before Connor came out to Henry and Will, the two of them had found a gay porn magazine stashed beneath his dorm room bed, and all it had taken was a panicked look towards Jack for his friend to jump to his defense with an excuse about art majors and the human figure.

Connor is pretty sure that’s the moment he fell for Jack. (Fell hard.)

Unfortunately, his crush (which has since spiraled into something much more) is just about the one problem Jack can’t fix for him. Connor’s three closest friends may know that he plays for the other team now, but that doesn’t mean they share the sentiment at all. He’s spent a lot of time trying to convince himself otherwise, but he always circles back around to Jack being straight.

That doesn’t mean he can’t admire his friend from afar, though, and admire he does. Like now, for instance, as Jack lets out a long sigh and wipes the sweat from his brow with the hand still holding his beer can, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Damn, that was good,” he says, his voice low and smooth, turning to glance at Connor. “You’d better catch up, man. That was my second.”

“I’m almost done,” Connor retorts, lifting his own can to his lips. “Not everyone can swallow the whole can in one go.”

Jack lets out a huff of a laugh as Connor takes a few gulps of his second beer of the day, enjoying the crisp coldness of the drink as it trickles down his throat. “Weak,” Will jeers with a snort, turning back around in his seat to watch the open road. Connor narrows his eyes playfully at him, continuing to enjoy his beer.

“Hey, pass me a soda, would you?” Henry asks, taking one hand off the wheel and waving it in the direction of the cooler. “I don’t care what kind.”

“I got it,” Jack says, flipping the lid of the cooler and fishing out a can of ginger ale. “Must suck to have to stay sober this whole drive.”

“Whatever,” Will scoffs. “At least we won’t have to piss an hour more into the drive.”

“Caffeine is a diuretic, too, idiot,” Henry laughs, reaching back to take the offered can of soda. “But it doesn’t matter. We’ve got all the time in the world to get to the site. As long as we check in before dark, we can stop as many times as we want.”

Connor quietly takes another sip of his beer, sinking down in his seat an inch. He’s gotten pretty good at casually talking about needing to piss with his friends--they are boys in their early twenties, after all, it’s bound to come up occasionally--but it’s still weird for him to do knowing that he enjoys it more than the rest of them do. Having a piss holding fetish is probably his closest kept secret now that he’s out, and he’s sworn to himself that he’ll never tell another soul as long as he lives, but he still gets a little extra sweaty and nervous when one of his friends brings up their need.

Still, he can’t help but let his mind wander, watching as Jack fishes out another can of cheap, cold beer, leaving it unopened in his fist. How many beers is Jack going to have before he calls it done? How long will the other two wait before pulling off to a rest stop? The image of Jack squirming from side to side, shifting his hips and grinding down against the seat below him desperately, brings a whole new flush to Connor’s face, and he snaps his eyes forward automatically, as if he’s been caught.

“Better get drinking, Conn,” Will says with a grin, nodding towards Connor’s unfinished second beer. “Looks like Jack’s getting ready to down another one.”

“Since when is this a competition?” Connor retorts, though he automatically raises his can to his lips anyway. “Last I checked we were on our way to a campsite, not to die of alcohol poisoning.”

“Three or four beers won’t hurt you, anway,” Jack replies with a shrug, reaching up to press the still unopened can to his cheek. His skin squishes against it, and Connor can’t help but replace the can with a pillow, the sunlight from the window becoming early morning light in his imagination. God, he thinks, I need to get this whole crush situation under control.

“Ugh, my legs are totally numb,” Will complains, thunking his fist against his right leg for emphasis. “Henry, your car was not designed for people my size.”

“Jack is taller than you, and he’s not complaining,” Connor replies, almost too quickly. Jack flashes him a small smile, his face pink from the cold of his beer.

“Do you want to pull over for a little bit?” Henry asks. “I can keep an eye out for exits if you want to walk around for a little bit.”

“Ah, maybe in a few,” Will says. “We’re barely even halfway there, and it feels like we’ve been driving forever. Might as well tough it out for a little bit longer.”

“Might as well,” Jack agrees, stretching his long legs apart in the confined space of the backseat. His left leg rubs up against the cooler, pushing it into Connor’s leg.

“Hey, Connor, would you grab me a coke?” Will asks, reaching back blindly. “It’s too fucking hot out today.”

“Sure,” Connor agrees as he pulls the shiny red can out of the cooler. The ice water on his hand sends a shiver down his spine, but it isn’t unwelcome at all.

“Will, why don’t you put on some music?” Henry suggests as Will accepts the coke. “I bet everyone’s tired of hearing you talk, anyway.”

“Shut up, man, people love my voice!” Will replies with a laugh, smacking Henry’s arm with the back of his hand before reaching for the aux cord and plugging it into his phone.

Connor settles back with his beer, taking a couple of long swigs as the sound of Will’s music hums through the rest of the car. He can’t help but glance over at Jack, finding his friend once again staring out the window, golden light filtering through his hair and sparkling off his skin.

Jack turns, catching Connor in the act, and raises a brow at him questioningly. “You need something?” he asks, not in an unkind way.

“Ah, I was just…” Connor struggles to come up with an excuse, eyes darting around the car and landing on the unopened can of beer in Jack’s hand. “I was just wondering if you were gonna drink that,” he finishes weakly, eyes darting back up to Jack’s face.

“Hm? Oh.” Jack reaches down to crank the tab on the can, lifting it halfway to his lips. “I spaced out there for a second, totally forgot about it. But hey, wouldn’t want it to get all warm, right?”

“Right,” Connor agrees with a weak chuckle. Jack smiles warmly at him before lifting the can to his mouth, taking a few long pulls as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

Connor tears his eyes away, forcing himself to look out his own window at the flat expanse of land that passes by. No more staring for the rest of the trip, he decides, frowning at himself in the reflection of the glass. You’re giving too much away already. Just… be cool, alright?

You can definitely do that.

***

“Connor, you’re falling behind,” Jack says in between sips of his fourth (yes, fourth) beer. “You barely started your third, and I’m already almost done with this one!”

“You’re a lot bigger of a person than I am, jerk,” Connor retorts, taking in another mouthful of beer and swallowing it automatically. He’s not even thirsty anymore, but the alcohol seems to have done its job in loosening him up--he keeps laughing at nothing, and he’s somehow caught the competitive spirit that Will and Jack had slipped into since they started drinking.

“Excuses, excuses,” Jack chuckles, shaking his head with a smile. “Come on, I bet you can finish it all at once if you try hard enough.”

“I wouldn’t say try hard is in Connor’s vocabulary,” Will snorts.

“Hey!” Connor protests, moving his free hand to smack the back of Will’s car seat, giggling when Will throws a fake glare back at him. “I’ll finish it right now, just watch.”

“Before you do, is it alright if we pull over here?” Henry asks. “I gotta take a leak, and I don’t want you spilling all over my car when I’m driving. You’re loose enough already.”

Jack snorts, covering his hand with his mouth to hide his laughter, so Connor reaches out again to smack his arm away. “If you’re gonna laugh at me, at least do it where I can see it,” he says with a grin.

“Okay, we’re pulling over,” Henry decides as he changes lanes, drifting towards a small rest station off the side of the road. “I really don’t want to wait anymore, and my legs feel like shit, too.”

“Same here,” Will agrees, stretching his arms over his head. “How many hours we got left, anyway?”

“Three or four,” Henry says. “I’m glad we got the site so cheap, but couldn’t it have been closer to campus?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Jack replies with a shrug. Henry maneuvers the car down the narrow entrance road, scanning the area until he finds a free parking spot.

“Ah, finally!” Will sighs, hand on the door handle before Henry can even finish pulling in. “I feel like we’ve been in here forever. I should not have drank that much soda.”

“Are you two coming?” Henry asks, turning around in his seat. “Like I said, we’ve still got a while to go before we get there.”

Connor looks over at Jack uncertainly, then down at his own beer. He hasn’t been to the bathroom since he woke up this morning, and he does feel a bit of a need to go if he’s being honest. He likes holding, but he’s not sure if he would enjoy it around his three closest friends, even if they don’t know about his piss kink.

Before he can answer, Jack chooses for him. “I’ll stay here,” he decides, holding up his beer. “I wanna finish this one before you guys get back, and I have to see Connor chug that entire can. That is, if he can.”

“Of course I can!” Connor says automatically, lifting the almost full container in the air for emphasis. “I’ll prove it to you.”

“You two are crazy if you plan on going the whole ride without pissing,” Will says with a laugh. “But it’s your funeral.”

“We’ll be quick,” Henry promises, pulling himself out of the car and closing the door, leaving Connor alone with Jack.

“Well?” Jack prompts, tapping his beer against Connor’s where it hangs midair. “Bottom’s up! First to finish gets to pick the music for the next hour.”

“You’re on!” Connor laughs, lifting his can to his mouth and tipping his head back. The beer is cold and fresh on his tongue, and it pools in his mouth almost too fast for him to swallow. He drinks as fast as he can, ignoring the telling signals from his bladder and throwing his common sense out the window. He’s gotten pretty good at holding ever since he started exploring his kink, and he’s sure he’ll be able to last until the next rest stop, especially since Jack drank a whole can more than he did in the same amount of time. Surely it won’t be long until they pull off the highway once again.

And until they do, he gets to imagine Jack squirming around in his seat, trying to contain four cans of beer as subtly as he can, his face growing red from effort and embarrassment. And if that isn’t a good reason to pass up a bathroom break himself, he doesn’t know what is.

***

An hour later finds Connor shifting his weight from side to side in his seat, his hands pressed to the seat cushion on either side of his legs, trying as hard as he can to think about something other than the pressure between his hips. He knows from nights of careful research that it should take about two hours for a drink to go through him, which means everything after the second can of beer hasn’t even hit him yet, and it’s that thought that both scares him and turns him on a little.

He’s never held around his friends before, and he’s only ever held in public when he had sure access to a bathroom. It’s weird, knowing how bad he has to pee--maybe a six out of ten and quickly approaching an eight--and not knowing when he’ll be able to let it go.

On the other hand, he’s pretty sure that Jack is getting desperate too, and it’s honestly even hotter than he ever imagined it would be. Jack’s legs are spread open a little bit, completely still, and he’s slouching down in his seat, one hand tensed on his thigh, the other alternating between playing with his hair and drumming against the car door. He’s quiet--they all are at this point in the drive, letting the music Connor had selected earlier fill the empty space, but Jack is the kind of quiet that means he’s concentrating really hard on something.

Connor would bet good money that the thing he’s concentrating on is his full bladder.

Now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure that Jack hasn’t gone to the bathroom since they all woke up this morning, either. The four of them made their way down from the house they’d stayed over at together after getting ready for the day and eating a quick meal, and then they’d hit the road shortly after that. That means that Jack must be feeling as full as Connor is, if not more so.

He side-eyes his friend as Jack shifts in his seat, squirming ever so slightly, his hips lifting off the seat for just a second before landing again. He’s clearly trying to be subtle about it, but he’s not doing a very good job, at least from Connor’s perspective. He watches with interest as Jack continues to move around, first hooking one ankle under the other, then sitting straight up and shifting his weight to his right side, leaning heavily against the car door. At least he seems too distracted with his need to notice Connor watching him.

Surely he’ll ask to pull over at a rest stop soon, Connor thinks, glancing away from the show for a second to check for road signs. It’s been a while since the last rest stop was advertised, and they’d passed that one almost fifteen minutes ago, so there must be another one coming up soon.

He’s distracted by a soft grunt from his right--his eyes snap back to Jack, whose face is scrunched up in a grimace. His legs move to squeeze against one another as he hunches over slightly, the hand on his thigh twitching towards his crotch for just a second before settling back once again. He must be pretty full, Connor thinks, if he’s wanting to grab his dick already.

Once again, the thought of Jack squirming around with his hands clutching his penis makes its way into Connor’s head. He feels his face turn red and whips his head forward too quickly to escape notice, but he doesn’t dare turn back around. What would Jack say if he knew what Connor was thinking?

He keeps his eyes trained on the back of Henry’s seat, willing the blush off of his face, but when he feels a buzz in his pocket he has to clamp his legs together to avoid a leak. His bladder throbs inside of him, all but forgotten, and now it’s his turn to grimace as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

Strangely enough, it’s a text from Jack of all people. Connor recognizes the little profile picture he’d drawn for Jack--the one his friend had insisted on using--before he even reads the name. Nervously, he glances up at Jack and finds him gazing back already, eyes flickering down to the screen meaningfully.

Connor looks back down, taking a moment to un-glue his legs from each other before he opens the text. A simple U ok? stares back at him. Confused, he looks back up at Jack; his friend motions to his face in a general wave, then makes a “spooked” motion with his hands.

I’m good, Connor replies, then quickly types out the first excuse that comes to mind. Just kind of have to pee is all.

When he gets the courage to look up, Jack is already typing out an answer, and a few seconds later his phone vibrates again.

Dude, me too. I’ve had to go for ages

Why haven’t you said anything? Connor writes back. I’m sure they would have stopped for you.

Don’t say anything! Jack answers. We can’t let them know we have to piss. They’ll make so much fun of us for skipping the last break

Connor’s eyes go wide, and he almost answers out loud from surprise. What are we supposed to do, then? he asks, immediately looking over at Jack. His crush grimaces once again, hunching over in his seat and re-crossing his ankles.

We’ve just got to hold it until one of them decides to pull over on their own, he says, and Connor feels his heart stop in his chest. The others only went to the bathroom an hour ago, and they’ve still got two or three more to go until they make it to the campsite. Is Jack planning on holding it the whole time? He’s already moving around quite a bit, knocking his knees together and constantly changing positions, and his forehead is shiny with sweat that Connor’s sure isn’t just from the heat.

Are you sure you can wait that long? he asks, throwing caution to the wind. He can always play his own interest off for sympathy, and besides, Jack seems pretty open to talking about it.

Of course I can! Jack replies seconds later. Obviously I’d go if I could, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hold it.

Connor bites his lip, typing out the next message on his phone. You don’t seem so sure about that, he ends up saying, looking up just in time to catch Jack pressing the heel of his hand into his crotch. It’s not the frantic grabbing and squirming that Connor always ends up imagining, but it’s still beyond hot and it has him once again following his reckless side.

I’m 22, not some kid, Jack writes, throwing a hand out to lightly punch Connor in the side. I bet you’re just trying to get ME to ask them to pull over for you.

No way! Connor replies, forcing his legs apart further as if to prove his point. His bladder gives off a dull throb in protest, reminding him that now is no time to let pride get in the way, but the kinkier side of his brain has fully taken over at this point and there’s no stopping it now. I could hold it the whole way there if I needed to. Besides, you’re the one squirming around here!

The last part earns him another gentle jab in the side, but Connor still tenses as the flesh near his bladder is squished. Despite what he’d said, he isn’t completely sure that he’d be able to last all the way to the campsite. His six out of ten is quickly becoming a seven, and the third beer still hasn’t hit him. He’s glad for all those late-night holds when his roommates were out, but he knows no amount of practice can keep him from wetting himself ever again. Still, there’s no way he’ll be the one to cave in and ask for a bathroom, not when he can distract himself from his own desperation with Jack’s the whole way there.

His phone vibrates in his hand once again, and he draws his attention from his bladder to focus on the conversation instead. Jack has written I bet you wish you were squirming like me with a “;)” at the end of the sentence--the last part makes his mouth dry, which in turn gives him an idea.

I bet you can’t fit another drop in you, you’re so full, he writes, sending it before he even realizes how kinky it sounds. When he looks up to check, he’s met with an inquisitive stare, a raised eyebrow.

What are you getting at? Jack sends back a moment later. Connor tries not to grin as he gestures towards the cooler meaningfully, then makes a drinking motion with his hand. He tries not to get too excited at the momentary flicker of doubt in Jack’s eyes--maybe he really is too full to drink--but it’s gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Fine,” Jack mouths at him, his eyebrows drawing together as he flips the lid of the cooler, much to Connor’s surprise. He lets out a quiet hiss as his hand meets the frigid water and half-melted ice, but after a few seconds of fishing he manages to pull out a can of cola. Connor watches with delight as his friend cracks the top of the can and takes a few long drinks, shivering in between gulps of soda, his other hand clenched into a fist at his side.

Jack finishes drinking with a soft, heavy sigh, then turns his gaze to Connor, holding the cola can out to him. Connor frowns, confused, until Jack leans forward even more, swishing the remaining soda around inside the can. His eyebrows are raised once again, challenging Connor to say no.

Connor pretends to glare back, acting like this little dare of theirs isn’t one of the most exciting things that’s happened to him all week. He accepts the can, shivering both from the leftover droplets of ice water and from Jack’s hand brushing against his, lifting it to his lips and chugging the rest of the soda as quickly as he can. It feels like a little over half the can, but he doesn’t really mind--after all, Jack had drank an entire beer more than he had at first, and it can’t be that hard to convince him to down another.

He grits his teeth together as he drinks, pressing his thighs together and shifting around in his seat as the cold soda makes its way down his throat. Only two or three more hours, he reminds himself, and then I can pee. Maybe I’ll even be lucky enough to go right next to Jack. Wouldn’t that be a dream come true?

He looks back down at his phone, where a new text waits on the homescreen. Good luck, tough guy! it reads, followed by You’ll need it >:)

Connor’s pretty sure he’s already maxed out on luck today, but he keeps that thought to himself.

***

“Hey, look at that!” Henry says, waving his phone in the general direction of the backseat. “We’re ahead of schedule. Should be there in an hour if we don’t hit traffic and don’t make any more stops.”

“G-Great,” Connor grits out, barely even glancing at the phone screen. He’s much too focused on his bladder, which has been screaming at him to empty it for the past forty-five minutes. He knows he’s held more for longer many times before, but for some reason it feels like he’s the fullest he can possibly get. Every few seconds his bladder throbs under his seatbelt, hours worth of piss begging to be let out. He wouldn’t have ever dared getting this desperate in a public place before, and if it were just him who needed to go he would have swallowed his pride and asked for a rest stop ages ago.

But one look at Jack has him clenching his muscles and steeling his resolve. Jack, whose face is currently stained bright red, who can’t keep still for five seconds without breathing so heavily it sounds like he’d just run a mile. Right now he’s got his hips lifted as far away from the seat as his seatbelt will let him, his hands in fists braced on either side of his body. He’s so clearly desperate for the bathroom, and yet both of their states seem to have gone unnoticed by both Henry and Will.

He watches as Jack changes positions once again, letting his ass fall back down to the seat below him and bringing his knees close together, shimmying back and forth as he bites at his lip like he’s just walked out of a PornHub video. All of a sudden he gasps, his hands flying to his crotch and pressing down, one knee hooking over the other one. Connor feels his own face heat up as he tries to keep his libido in check, though the image does end up stiffening his dick enough to stave off the next wave of his own desperation.

He figures that he can get away with pretty much anything so long as the boys in the front seats don’t notice, so he takes the opportunity to pinch the tip of his half-hard cock, sighing in relief as he does. God, he’s really desperate--the pressure in his bladder is now one of the only things on his mind. He can barely even tell which song is playing through the car’s speakers now; only that its gentle vibrations are not making his situation any easier.

Maybe he should have thought ahead, been smart about it instead of taking Jack’s soda challenge. Maybe the whole “alcohol is a diuretic” thing does hold more truth to it than he’d thought. Either way, the only thing keeping him from beginning to leak is his semi and the thought that Jack is even more frantic than he is.

He hears a quiet “Oh, oh God,” from his right and glances over, surprised to see that he can see the faint outline of Jack’s penis where he’s gripping it through his pants. There’s no wet spot yet, but it looks like it won’t be long now before he begins to leak in earnest.

A wicked idea enters Connor’s head, one that he can’t resist even though his logical side tells him it’s an absolutely horrible idea. He grabs his phone out of his pocket and types out a quick text, chewing on his lip for a couple of seconds before he decides fuck it and hits send.

C: You ready to give up and ask for a stop yet or what?

His eyes flicker over to Jack, waiting for the far-away cell towers to deliver his message. Seconds later, Jack lets out a high, soft moan, hunching over and shifting his hips from side to side as he squeezes at his cock. It’s probably both the hottest thing Connor has ever seen and heard.

Jack glances over at him, reaching for his phone when he notices the one in Connor’s hand. He doesn’t seem very ashamed of holding himself, which only adds fuel to the fire that is Connor’s terrible idea.

It takes a minute for Jack to type out his response with one hand, his other glued to his groin with no sign of moving any time soon.

J: Jesus Christ, I feel like I’m about to pop

J: But there’s no way in hell I’m asking them to pull over for me!

Connor fights the grin that wants to pop up on his face, though it quickly turns strained as a wave of need hits him. He presses his thighs together and points his toes as he types as quickly as he can, then drops a hand down to hold himself. At least his desperation will serve as a good distraction if his plan goes awry.

C: Are you sure about that?

C: You’re holding your dick so much I’m tempted to offer to help you with it

He watches out of the corner of his eye as Jack reads the text. His friend’s eyes go wide for a split second, but as soon as it’s there it’s gone, and he’s typing away once again.

J: At least buy a guy dinner first, jeez

Connor feels his heartbeat stutter as he reads the response, his mouth dropping open a bit as he white-knuckles his phone, both from shock and the need to squeeze something to make the pressure inside him go away. Before he can even begin to think of what to respond, a huge wave of desperation overtakes him and he lets the phone slip out of his grip, gasping as his hands fly to his crotch to stop the impending flood. He’s at a nine out of ten now, easy--he can feel the piss at the tip of his cock, fighting as hard as it can to escape.

He risks opening one eye and glancing to his right, wondering how Jack will react to his desperation. Will he be grossed out if he notices that Connor is half hard still? Will he kindly pretend not to notice at all?

He’s surprised when his eyes focus enough to notice the expression on Jack’s face. He looks flushed, almost flustered… And more than anything, he looks intrigued.

“Wow,” Jack mouths at him, somewhere between impressed and teasing. Connor shoots a weak smile at him as he circles the base of his dick with his hands, squeezing with all his might. Luckily neither of the boys in the front has noticed anything yet, but it’s still both terrifying and exciting to be this desperate in their presence.

Connor winces as he lets go with one hand, reaching down to grab his phone. He’s definitely pushing his luck, but that look that Jack had given him… It’s not the kind of look that passes between friends. It’s his turn to type with one hand, and he’s shaking ever so slightly on top of that, but at last he manages to type out another text and hit send.

C: Enjoying the show?

Seconds later, he received a reply:

J: I’d give it a perfect review if I could let go of my dick long enough to type it out

J: Are you regretting that last soda btw?

C: Nah, I could hold for longer if I wanted to

C: Not that I have a choice

J: You’re lying, I can tell!

J: I’m bigger than you and even I feel like I’m gonna wet myself any second now

C: That sounds like a you problem

J: I bet you have to go just as bad as me

C: Is it the desperation talking or were you always this delusional?

J: Oh shut up

J: If you don’t have to go, I bet you won’t mind grabbing another soda, right?

C: What if I say I’m not thirsty anymore?

J: Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to drink it

J: I just wanna see the look on your face when your hand hits that ice cold cooler water

Connor stares down at his phone, a slow smile spreading over his face. Intentionally or not, Jack is playing right into the almost exhibisionistic fantasy he’s had for a while, both of his friend teasing him while he’s full of piss and of him torturing a desperate Jack right back. As carefully as he can, he sets his phone on the middle seat and reaches over to flip the lid of the cooler, staring into the slightly sloshing water with a mixture of dread and excitement. He can feel Jack’s eyes on him as he reaches in slowly, his fingers barely brushing the surface of the water.

Better to get it over with, Connor figures, and with that he dives in, submerging his whole hand in the ice water. He lets out a choked-off moan as his bladder convulses, trying in anguish to expel the hours and hours worth of urine. He grabs the first thing he can feel--a can of off-brand lemon lime soda nobody had bothered to drink yet--and yanks his hand out, dropping the can onto the floor of the car and shoving his hand back down onto his crotch.

It’s a bad idea all around. The water that had clung to his hand soaks into his jeans and through his underwear, brushing cool moisture across his sensitive penis as he clutches himself. “Ah, oh,” he hisses, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he moves his hips wildly back and forth, trying to keep the ocean of piss inside of him. It takes almost thirty seconds for the effect of the water to wear off on him, and it’s the closest he’s come to leaking since he’d last wet himself.

At the very least, he notes once he has himself back under control, Jack doesn’t seem to be faring much better. He’s constantly squirming, grinding his hips down into the car seat and letting out short, airy pants as he grabs at his dick, switching from hand to hand and occasionally using both. Every time he has to stifle a moan or a sigh, Connor’s cock gets a little bit harder, which in turn helps him hold it.

Jack doesn’t reach for his phone to text anymore, but he does glance over at Connor every few seconds, like he’s checking to make sure Connor isn’t watching. (Or like he’s making sure Connor is watching--it’s such unfamiliar territory that Connor can’t tell in the slightest.) It doesn’t matter, because either way Connor can’t bear to take his eyes off the show before him. It’s like every one of his fantasies of Jack wriggling around, drops of yellow staining the plush white bed under him, only this is even better because it’s real.

Jack is actually desperate in front of him, and better yet he’s flirting with him over it.

Connor’s thoughts are interrupted by a loud sigh from the front seat. He immediately pulls his hands out of his crotch, cringing at the lack of pressure and squeezing his thighs together to make up for it. He glances up in the direction of the sigh, which sounded like it came from Will’s part of the car.

“Something wrong?” Henry asks from the driver’s seat, reaching to lower the music.

“I’ve gotta piss again,” Will explains, crossing his arms over his head. “Guess I shouldn’t have had that last soda.”

“You want to pull over somewhere?” Henry offers, waving with one hand at the side of the road. “If it’s an emergency we can stop here, and if not we can always keep an eye out for a real rest stop.”

Connor’s eyes go wide, and he side-glances at Jack, who seems to have the same thought as him.

If Will asks to stop at a restroom, the game will be over.

Connor tries not to let the disappointment show on his face, though he knows the cons outweigh the pros for him. Sure, he’d get to pee at last and he wouldn’t be in danger of wetting himself around his best friends anymore, but he’d also lose the opportunity to see Jack slowly lose control, spurting hot leaks of piss into his jeans as he moans and squirms like crazy, trying his best to hold it in… In Connor’s mind, that image is priceless, worth more than any shred of dignity he might have left.

“Nah, it’s alright,” Will says with a wave of his hand, and Connor barely stops himself from breathing a massive sigh of relief. (Not relief relief, but still.) Unless Jack decides to speak up, it looks like his fantasy come true is back on track.

“What about you two?” Henry asks, his eyes flickering to the rear-view mirror, and Connor thanks the stars that he’s been able to keep his hand away from his groin for so long. “You haven’t gone since we got on the road, right? Do you want to pull over somewhere?”

“God, I totally forgot!” Will exclaims. “You guys must be pissing your pants back there.”

“Haha…” Connor trails off awkwardly, shifting his weight to his other side and pressing his knees into each other. “I mean, not yet.”

“What about you, Jack?” Will asks almost tauntingly. “You ready to admit you were an idiot for not going before?”

“I’m not admitting anything,” Jack says with a strained laugh, finding the strength somewhere to kick the back of Will’s seat.

“Oh, come on! You must be bursting back there!”

“Well, yeah…” Jack and Connor glance at each other at the same time, and something like mischief catches in Jack’s eye as they do. “I kinda feel like I’m about to explode,” he admits slyly, never breaking eye contact.

“Ha! I knew it!”

“Maybe it was all those beers… How many did I drink, four?”

“And half a soda,” Connor grits out, his dick throbbing both from arousal and desperation. He checks the rear view mirror and slowly slips a hand into his crotch once he’s sure Henry’s not looking. “You must be really full, huh?”

“Of course,” Jack agrees. “Although you can’t be much better off. You had almost as much to drink as I did, and it’s been hours since you last let go, hasn’t it?”

“Y-Yeah,” Connor manages to reply, heat flaring up in his cheeks. His dick feels rock hard under his hand, but he can’t stop kneading at it, both from his intense desperation and his need for friction. “Oh,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut for a second as the mix of arousal and need sends his brain into overdrive.

“I really don’t mind pulling over if it’s that bad,” Henry offers, but Jack answers for him.

“We’re f-fine, Henry,” he says in a less-than-convincing voice. “Don’t worry about us, just get to the c-campsite.”

“You gonna last the next twenty minutes, Connor?” Henry asks, glancing back in the rear view mirror again. This time Connor doesn’t bother taking his hands away from his crotch, hoping that his friend isn’t able to see how erect he is from the front seat.

“I’ll, mmh, be fine,” he says breathily, eyes practically rolling back in his head. His dick is so incredibly sensitive to every brush of his hand, to the point where he doesn’t know if he’d rather piss or jack off more. He looks over to see that Jack is doubled over once, again, one leg crossed over the other with his hands trapped in between them, putting as much pressure on his dick as he possibly can. His face is just as flushed (bad, bad choice of words) as Connor knows his is, and when he opens his eyes to meet Connor’s, his pupils are blown wide.

“If you say so,” Henry says with a shrug, speeding up as he passes the first car in minutes. “I’ll be honest, I was kind of hoping you’d ask to pull over. All this talk about pissing is making me need to go, too.”

“If those two can hold it for six and a half hours, I’m sure you and I can make it the rest of the trip without a bathroom break,” Will reasons. Connor’s eyes widen as he hears the number--six and a half hours?! No, it’s been more than that--it’s closer to seven or eight hours, considering neither of them peed after that first trip to the bathroom in the morning.

“Still, it’s not like it’s comfortable,” Henry says with a sigh.

“Oh, I know,” Jack says, his voice carrying an undertone of… mischief? Excitement? “I’m… not comfortable either.”

Through his haze of need, Connor notices that Jack isn’t just grabbing himself anymore, but moving his hand in small, open-palmed circles. Is he hard? he wonders, mouth dropping open a bit. Is Jack… getting off on this, too?

“Hey, try not to think about waterfalls,” Will pipes up, gleeful. “Or rainstorms, or whitewater rafting…”

Connor shudders, the very mention of all that gushing, gurgling, free-flowing water sending unwelcome images of toilets and showers to his brain. “God,” he hisses, knocking his knees together and bucking his hips in the air. Once again, he feels someone’s gaze locked onto him, and he doesn’t even need to check to know that it’s Jack who’s looking.

“Knock it off,” Henry cuts in, though there’s no bite behind his words. “The last thing I need is those two causing a flood of their own in the back of my car. I just had this thing cleaned a couple of months ago!”

“Oh, did you?” Will teases. “I couldn’t tell.”

A flood, huh? Connor thinks to himself, staring down at where the band of his jeans cuts into his bloated, distended bladder. I bet together the two of us could cover the whole floor of the car in piss, and then some. Jesus Christ, I have to go!

“Ten minutes,” Henry tells them as he pulls off the main road, onto an unfortunately bumpy dirt path.

Connor swears he can feel each tiny bit of gravel that they drive over, the bumps echoing throughout his bladder as he holds on for dear life. He hears Jack panting from his right and opens one eye to see that his friend is folded in half, both hands buried deep between his legs as he lets his hair fall into his face, chewing on his lip. He must be close to bursting, he realizes, noting the couple of beads of sweat dripping down his face.

As much as he’d love to watch Jack lose control and wet himself, soaking his jeans and the seat below him with hot urine, he’s pretty sure pissing himself in front of his friends isn’t something that Jack would be into, even if he is having fun holding. And it looks like they’ve only got a couple of minutes until one of them starts to leak, or even lets go completely.

“H-Hey, Henry,” he stammers, letting go of his penis with one hand to tap Henry on the shoulder. “We’re not, ah, um, we’re not so far away from the campsite, right?”

“Um, I guess so,” Henry says, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s like a seven minute drive, maybe a fifteen minute walk?”

“Could you let me and Ja-ack out here?” Connor asks, hoping the excitement doesn’t come through in his voice. “I d-don’t know about him, but I feel like I’m gonna pop, mmh! Any second now.”

“Please,” Jack gasps, lifting his head for just long enough for Connor to catch a hint of panic on his face. “I can’t hold it all the way to the, hahh, to the campsite!”

“Yeah, sure!” Henry slows the car to a stop, and Jack is out the door before Connor has even unfastened his seatbelt. “Just follow the trail to Campsite L, and text me if you get lost, okay?”

“We will!” Connor promises, pushing the door open and setting his foot on the dirt path. Immediately gravity increases on his bladder and he lets out a loud, strangled moan as he dances in place, trying to keep himself dry. “Bye!” he yells, hobbling off to the side of the road after Jack, who’s already a good few feet ahead, still holding onto his cock for dear life.

Every step he takes is absolute torture--the pressure inside of him is enough to drive him crazy, and yet he’s still horny as hell despite the circumstances. “J-Jack, ahh, wait up!” he calls as he hears the car start behind him. “Jack!”

“Hurry up!” Jack calls without looking back, stomping his feet in place. “I seriously feel like I’m about to piss myself, Connor, it’s so bad. Ohh, I need to go!”

The two boys stumble through the forest, going as fast as they can without losing control completely, though it isn’t long before they start to leak. Connor makes it maybe fifteen steps from where he’d left the car before his bladder decides it’s had enough and contracts harshly, trying to override his control. He gasps in shock as a stream of piss jets out of his dick, wetting his pants from the crotch to the inside of the knee within three seconds, before he finally manages to cut off the flow.

Jack seems to be at the same stage in his desperation, because seconds later Connor hears a loud “Oh my God!” followed by the telltale splatter of urine against the ground. The sound is torturous to Connor’s ears, though he decides it’s worth it when he looks up and sees Jack bent over with his hands jammed between his legs, piss dripping out from between his fingers.

“How f-far do we have to go?” he asks from his hunched-over place a couple of feet ahead.

“We’ve gotta, haah, get away from the road,” Connor grits out, his bladder pounding inside of him, demanding he give it back the release he’d stolen from it. “C-Can’t have any cars seeing us when we… go…”

“Fine,” Jack agrees, reaching out to push himself forward on one of the nearer trees and stumbling a little as he goes. “You know,” he continues, looking back over his shoulder at Connor, “under different circumstances I don’t t-think I’d mind as much.”

“Ah… Yeah?” Connor adjusts the hand on his stiff, saturated dick and moans lightly as the fabric of his jeans rubs him just right. “What do you--mmm--what do you mean?”

“I think, oh, that you know what I mean,” Jack pants, breaking eye contact to squeeze his eyes shut against another flood of desperation. “God, I think my bladder’s in danger of p-popping right now.”

“Me too,” Connor agrees, glancing down at himself. Wow. His bladder isn’t the only bulge that’s noticeable--he’s pretty sure he hasn’t been this hard in years, and that’s including the few boyfriends he’d had in the past. He wonders if he would have already wet himself without the help of his boner, or if it’s his years of holding that are keeping the entirety of the Caspian Sea inside of him.

It feels like hours pass as the two of them stumble deeper into the forest, trying their best to contain the beer and soda inside of them for just a little bit longer. And yet when Connor works up the nerve to look over his shoulder (and the self restraint to look away from Jack, who’s currently hopping in place with one leg hooked over the other) he can still see the road through the bushes.

“I t-think this is it for me,” Jack moans, his breath fluttering. “I’ve, ah, never had to go this bad before!”

“Wait!” Connor pants, lifting one hand from his crotch to hold out towards Jack. “Over th-there!”

He moves his arm to point towards a deep seclusion in the woods, just out of sight of the road. “Just hold on, nngh, a little longer!”

“I… I don’t know if I can,” Jack admits, looking back at Connor with red cheeks and watery eyes. Connor can’t help but stare at him for a few seconds, taking in his messy hair and parted lips, his legs that are pressed so tightly together, and his hands, which are gripping the base of an obviously erect penis…

Oh.

So Connor was right before, and it hadn’t just been wishful thinking. Jack is getting some pleasure from holding it in, whether he meant to or not. And now here they are, together alone in the middle of a forest, both desperate to pee and totally aroused at the same time...

“Come on…” Connor says, drawing his eyes back up to meet Jack’s. “I- I’ll make it worth your while.”

Jack’s eyes widen once again, and he glances down at Connor’s crotch, where his piss-stained jeans are clearly tented in the front. Connor’s face heats up, but he doesn’t move to hide it at all. There’s no way he’s misread the situation--the evidence is right there in front of him, after all. And all those looks they’d given each other on the ride over, the flirty texts they’d sent each other… It can’t just be a coincidence, or a misunderstanding.

“O… Okay,” Jack says, his eyes wide as he turns to hobble towards the secluded area. Every few steps a couple of drops of urine make their way through his fingers, leaving tiny circles in the ground below him, but Connor knows that those tiny little leaks aren’t giving him any relief at all. His underwear rubs against him as he moves, and he shudders at the soft friction and the wetness of it all.

“Ah… O-Oh…” Jack sighs, pausing at the entrance to the clearing to dance in place. “Thank God we’re finally h-here…”

Before Connor knows what’s going on or has a chance to look away, Jack is scrambling at his zipper and pulling it down, reaching into his underwear to pull out his dick and leaking the tiniest bit along the way.

Wow, Connor thinks, his eyes going wide as he takes in his friend’s length. He can’t say he hasn’t fantasized about that kind of stuff before, but he’d never imagined Jack’s cock to look as insanely appealing as it does. It’s still stiff, too, and a little red, and for some reason Jack hasn’t actually started pissing yet…

Before he can stop himself, Connor takes a step forward, his own dick hard and straining against the confines of his jeans. Jack looks up, still not peeing, an almost hopeful expression on his face.

“C-Can I…” Connor stops mid-sentence to shift his weight to his other side, shimmying his thighs together as his bladder throbs inside of him. He’s never needed to pee so explosively bad before, and yet his need is the last thing on his mind at a time like this.

“Yeah,” Jack breathes, turning his whole body to face Connor. Hesitantly, Connor reaches out, brushing his fingers along the side of Jack’s dick and inhaling sharply as it twitches in interest. Jack makes a nngh sound, his breath stuttering as Connor continues to lightly touch him.

“I’ve never done this before,” he breathes, looking up at Connor unsurely. “What am I supposed to…”

“Do you want to try?” Connor asks, taking his free hand away to gesture at his lower half. Jack hesitates a second longer, then nods, watching hungrily as Connor lets go of his aching dick to unzip his fly. He considers pulling himself out, but instead goes for Jack’s hand, guiding it to the front of his jeans and letting Jack maneuver his way inside. His knuckles brush against the very bottom of Connor’s bladder and he shudders, eyes fluttering shut as Jack finally reaches deep enough and pulls his penis out.

“Oh…” he moans as Jack strokes him once, unsurely, then again with a bit more pressure. “That’s good…”

He forces his eyes open and reaches out once again, taking Jack’s leaking cock in his hand and twisting his wrist as he strokes, over and over again. Jack is making tiny little sounds, breathing shallowly and whining every time a bit of urine gushes out of him. Some of it splashes onto Connor’s lower leg, but he could care less at this point.

Jack may not have much experience jacking other guys off, but he’s sure as hell not doing a bad job of it. Maybe he mastrubates a lot, Connor thinks, the idea making him even harder as it enters his mind. Only it’s different now--he doesn’t have to fantasize, with the real deal right in front of him, on him. Every inch of his skin is so, so sensitive thanks to the overfilled capacity of his bladder, and Jack’s hand on him is practically sending him into overdrive.

“Ah, ah!” he exclaims as his bladder pangs harshly, forcing a short jet of piss to spurt out of his dick. He glances down, noticing that it had shot straight onto the leg of Jack’s pants and is dripping onto his hiking boots.

“Good?” Jack asks, pausing his ministrations, and Connor can’t help but thrust into his hand to get more friction.

“Don’t stop now,” he urges, taking a step closer until he can feel Jack’s labored breath on his cheek.

“Oh God,” Jack hisses as Connor speeds up his strokes, pausing briefly to drag his thumb over the tip, his fingers stroking the underside. “Oh God, Connor!”

His name sounds so delicious coming from Jack’s mouth that he practically comes right there and then. But right before he loses himself completely, his bladder contracts harshly, and he has to press his thighs together and shift his hips from side to side to keep from losing it all.

“Ah… haah… I still have to go so bad,” he whispers as a few stray drops fall from his cock, teasing him with the thought of release.

“Me too,” Jack agrees, his hand shaking as it pumps up and down on Connor’s dick. “But… I think it m-makes it better, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Connor groans. His legs feel weak under him, and he swears he can feel every cell in his body.

The sound of hushed moans and cries fills the seclusion, occasionally broken by a gush of hot piss hitting the forest floor. Connor knows he’s leaked enough to fill a whole can of soda on his own, and yet he still feels as desperate as ever--but at this point he’s too hard to lose control completely. Still, each stroke of Jack’s hand on his rock hard dick brings him closer to orgasm, and by the looks of things Jack feels the same. His penis is dribbling piss and precome, warm and sticky in Connor’s hand.

Time to bring him over the edge, Connor thinks, increasing his hand’s speed and making sure to pay attention to the tip every couple of seconds, smearing the leaked liquid around like some kind of lube. “Come on, Jack,” he huffs, eyes flickering between Jack’s dick and his face. “Come for me.”

That’s all it takes to send Jack to orgasm--his friend lets out a cry of pleasure as sticky white come squirts out of him, landing just to the left of Connor’s shoe. The ejaculate is immediately followed by an uncontrolled spurt of piss, followed by another, and suddenly Jack is gushing onto the ground with force, hours and hours worth of liquid finally exiting his body.

It’s that sight alone that sends Connor over the edge--he comes harder than he ever thinks he has before, his vision blurring and whiting out as Jack’s hand slips off his penis. He feels almost dizzy as his orgasm racks through him, shaking his body from fingertip to fingertip. His come lands in the rapidly growing puddle at Jack’s feet, sinking to the bottom of the urine like a feather in the air.

“Jesus,” Connor breathes, taking a deep breath in, but his bladder squeezes in protest, reminding him that he’s still far from empty. He makes a quick grab for his penis, but he’s too slow to prevent the line of urine from marking itself along the thighs of Jack’s pants in a splatter pattern.

He barely has time to notice before he’s pissing full force onto the ground, his urine mixing with Jack’s and creating a puddle beneath their shoes. And God, if that orgasm hit him hard, then finally being able to release all that liquid, those cans of beer and soda and water from the morning… It’s almost better. His stream is so powerful, thundering against the ground with force, and he can’t help but moan as his bladder finally deflates, letting go of the ocean inside of it.

The two of them piss in silence for almost a minute and a half, the sound of splattering echoing in Connor’s ears even as his stream tapers off. He doesn’t even bother tucking himself away, taking a few seconds to catch his breath and regain his bearings. His head is spinning from the events of the day, and he feels bone tired and jelly-like at the same time, but realistically he knows that they have to get back to the campsite before their friends come looking for them.

He opens his eyes, surveying the damage. Both his and Jack’s pants are soaked in several places, and he can already smell the piss drying on their hands and clothes. “Jack,” he says, tapping Jack on the shoulder several times. “We can’t go back like this?”

“Huh?” Jack opens his eyes, looking down at himself until he snaps out of his haze. “Oh, shit! What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know… Did you bring a jacket with you or anything?”

“I was kind of preoccupied,” Jack laughs nervously. “Hey, didn’t Henry say we were gonna be camping near a lake?”

Connor squints, wracking his brain for memories from earlier in the day. “Yeah, he did. Do you think we should-”

“Have a little swim before we get back and help the others unpack?” Jack finishes for him. “It couldn’t hurt to be a little late, right?”

“Right…” Connor trails off, picking at a wet spot on his jeans. “Hey, Jack… You aren’t weirded out or anything, are you? I didn’t do anything too far, right?”

“What? Oh, no!” Jack reaches out to touch Connor’s arm, meeting his gaze with a small smile. “It was great, Connor. What are you worrying about?”

“I just… I didn’t know you liked guys,” Connor admits, somewhat embarrassed. “If I’d known, I…”

“I didn’t know either,” Jack tells him, rubbing his arm gently. “But… I liked it. I liked today, even if it wasn’t the most conventional.”

“I liked today, too,” Connor says, his face heating up as Jack moves his hand into Connor’s own. Jack smiles at him kindly, squeezing once.

“Come on, then,” he says, tugging Connor towards the road. “Let’s go get cleaned up, before the others wonder where we’re at.”

“...Alright,” Connor agrees, smiling back softly. “Let’s go.”

#omorashi #male omorashi #omorashi fanfic #omocute #omorashi story #op #fanfic #male desperation

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

no place like home

pairing: jimmy page x reader

warnings: none, it's just so fluffy

words: 1.2k

summary: movie nights with jimmy have become a regular occurence, and tonight, you're whisked away to the wonderful land of oz.

author’s note: this is purely because the wizard of oz is a comfort movie of mine, and jimmy name-dropped judy garland in an interview. he has seen the movie, mark my words. also i love yardbean jimmy so much :’) enjoy! <3

“What are we watching tonight, love?”

Being part of the world-famous Yardbirds, Jimmy’s schedule was hectic, to put it lightly. On the road as often as he was, there wasn’t much time to catch up on the recent trends in pop culture, including any films he might have missed or neglected. When he told you that he hadn’t seen Alice in Wonderland, the gasp that left your lips could be heard for miles.

As a result, you and Jimmy resolved to watch a movie every weekend that you were together, alternating every week who got to choose. The quality time spent together was but a hidden perk, of course.

“Isn’t it your week, Jim?” you reply, smiling warmly at him as he walks into the quaint living room with two steaming mugs of tea. Taking the warm mug from his hand with a “thank you” whispered into the air between you, you take a sip. Comforting hints of bergamot and vanilla dance on your tongue, the sigh leaving your lips full of contentment. Sweet honey softens the rich, striking spices, and it feels like coming home after a long day. “Earl Gray, with a teaspoon of honey. You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered,” Jimmy sips from his own mug, his hands cradling it carefully, aiming to absorb every ounce of warmth that seeps into his palms. Glancing over at you as you melt into his embrace, he smiles, cheeks flushing a delicate pink. “Nothing about you is exactly easy to forget, love.”

“Sap.” A playful slap to his chest follows, a sound of protest courtesy of Jimmy echoing through the room. He frowns, green eyes sparkling with amusement, and leans over to press his lips to yours tenderly.

“You love me.”

“ I do. Sure hope that’s okay with you.”

“You know it is, Y/N,” he chuckles, music to your ears as you gaze up at him, enraptured by his bright, careless smile. It seems he’s always stressed, lately, and these movie nights are a lifeline, allowing him to be unguarded and vulnerable. Pure, and completely in love. “You’re right, I believe it is my turn. After all, I did sit through the entirety of Psycho for you last week.”

“What was wrong with it? I thought it was entertaining!”

“The pacing was all wrong, love. Though, I did appreciate you hiding your face in my chest the entire time.”

“What can I say? You were comfy.”

“Forgive me, I was under the impression that it had scared you,” Jimmy chuckles, his arm winding around you to pull you closer. You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile blooming across your features. “I’ll protect you from the big, bad Norman Bates. Don’t you worry.”

“My knight in shining armour,” you drawl, smiling up at him with nothing but love in your eyes. Pecking him on the cheek before he could react, you unwind your arms from around his waist. He grumbles at the lack of contact, and you giggle, twining your fingers in his hair to push a loose strand behind his ear. He needed a haircut soon, you realize. “Go pick your movie, Sir Page.”

He rises from the homely couch with a huff and moves towards the black milk crate sat in the corner of the room. Jimmy, a firm lover of every conceivable form of art, had always been quite interested in film. Around you, he often quoted the movies he had seen, sometimes taking on a comical voice to sell it. Now left with more money than he knew what to do with, Jimmy invested in a rather expensive projector, frequenting the local library to survey the films in stock. As he rifles through the selection of hard-shelled reel cases he had picked up for the week, you can’t help but appreciate the view of his bum from his crouched position. Your lover has fine assets, after all.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a noise of surprise, as Jimmy turns to face you, his eyes twinkling with excitement in the warm light of the living room. In his hand sits a film case, meticulously labelled, as all things are in his house, in black sharpie. He’s nothing if not organized, you think. The slip of paper, in his own writing, reads, ‘The Wizard of Oz’, hastily drawn stars surrounding the title. This definitely wasn’t a copy from the library...

“Why don’t we watch this? I… just happened to find it at the bottom of the crate, and it seems as good a time as any to revisit it.”

“It’s okay, Jimmy. You can come out and say you like musicals.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jimmy replies, scratching the back of his neck, a smirk creeping onto his face as he looks back at you. Setting up the tape, he reclines back on the couch as the opening music swells. Dragging the blanket resting on the arm of the couch around the two of you, your head settles on his shoulder. Warmth fills you as his arms encircle you once more, and the pressure of soft lips landing in your hair sends your heart aflutter. The two of you, content in the other’s embrace, lose yourselves in the bittersweet story.

Dorothy’s smooth voice, clear like a crystalline stream, filters through the dimly-lit room, bringing a smile to your face. Looking up at Jimmy, you take in the way his eyes never leave the screen, colours swirling in the shining surface like a mirror. Faintly, you can hear the sound of humming. When you delicately press your head to his chest, you feel the rumbling of his low voice as he sings along under his breath.

Sound seems to fade away not long after, as you fight to keep your eyes open. You’ve never felt as safe as you do right now, cocooned in his warmth. Moving your head to rest in the junction of his jaw and neck, your palm lands over his heart. The guitarist’s steady pulse against your hand pulls you ever-closer to sleep. Blinking tiredly, you tilt your head to look back up at him. Weary eyes threaten to close, opening only to see long, dark eyelashes fluttering against alabaster skin.

There were marks, dark purple in colour, painted under his eyes. He was exhausted, wearing himself thin over the last month. The one time he wasn’t stressed out, anxiety thrumming through his body, was during these nights with you. Jimmy could finally relax, content in the knowledge that you were in his arms. That you would be there when he woke up.

Gently carding a hand through his curls, you settle against him, head returning to it’s comfortable spot on his shoulder. Soon enough, you feel the weight of his head settle against yours, his arms curled protectively around you even in slumber, and you let your eyes flutter closed.

The Scarecrow gets his brains, while the Tinman receives his coveted heart; The Lion gains his courage, and Dorothy finally finds her way back to Kansas, though both of you are none the wiser.

Dorothy had said that there’s no place like home. Curled up, sheltered by Jimmy’s body wrapped around you like a safety blanket, you’re sure that it’s the truth after all.

Jimmy is your home, and you wouldn’t trade him for anything the world could offer.

------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy @jimmypages (let me know if you want to be added!)

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #jimmy page x reader #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic #reader insert

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smarchit · 4 years

Text

Poetry for an Heiress, Chapter 4

Summary: When a duchess and her children are abandoned far from home, they must rely on the kindness of one stranger to guide them home.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: None (For this chapter)

Three weeks or so after your arrival, as promised, you allowed Ezra to take the boys fishing if they were all well behaved. Aside from a week or so prior when Aiden had tormented Marie with a fat little grub, they had been absolute angels. They helped you whenever you asked, and helped Ezra sometimes even before he would ask.

"Tomorrow, perhaps," Ezra said one evening after dinner. He rested his hand in his lap and looked across the table at the children. "I think tomorrow is a marvelous day for fishing."

Henry and Aiden gasped excitedly and looked at one another before they turned to Ezra.

"Really!" Aiden cried, bouncing on his feet. "Do you mean it? We can go fishing!"

"Of course," Ezra said, his expression serious. "I did make a promise to you, did I not? And your mother did say if you were exceptionally well-behaved, you could go."

Two eager faces turned to you, as if for confirmation of this monumental declaration.

"We shall all go," you said with a smile. "We can pack a picnic lunch and books to read for tomorrow."

Marie gasped and clapped her hands as the boys let out triumphant cries and hugged you tightly.

"Easy, easy," Ezra warned gently. "Don't squeeze the life out of your poor mother. Come on, let's get these dishes cleaned and you boys can help me get things ready."

Marie climbed down from her chair and gathered up her plate and cup before placing both in the wash tub. She turned to you as you collected Ezra's silverware in your hands. "Mama," she said, trying to be as polite as she could be. "Can I go help Henry and Aiden and Mr. Ezra?"

"For a bit," you said, placing the dishes in the basin. "It's almost bedtime for little bugs."

Marie pouted and folded her arms over her chest. "I'm not sleepy, mama. Please? Can I please go help?"

You smiled and crouched down to her height. You gently took her hands in your own and kissed her palms. She looked so much like you, according to your mother. You were hard to convince, for you always saw your husband's eyes staring back at you with curiosity. It had always been hard to look at your children, to see him when he was no longer there.

Now, it felt like you were healing. There was no longer an ache in your heart when you thought of him. Going into his study, exactly the way he had left it, no longer caused you to break down. Looking at your children didn't fill you with an overwhelming sense of grief.

Your children had never known their father. Not enough to remember him, anyway. Marie never even lived in the same world as he did.

Was it time for you to finally move on? It would have been what he wanted for you - happiness. A life.

"My darling," you said, stroking your thumb along her rounded cheek. "I think that is a splendid idea."

"Perfectly splendid," Marie repeated with a smile. She wrapped her arms around your neck and kissed your cheek. After a moment she skipped off to join the boys outside.

For a moment, you stood by the small kitchen window and watched Marie run to where her brothers and Ezra were huddled together in the yard. Ezra was so patient with them. He never raised his voice or got frustrated. It was like he was meant for this.

And, oh, the children loved him. They didn't even need to tell you. You just knew. You could see it in their eyes. They did tell you though, quite often, as a matter of fact. Almost every day they told you how they wanted to stay on Muir forever and explore like Mr. Ezra.

Outside, Ezra picked up Marie and rested her on his hip, his arm wrapped around her as she clung to him. She squealed with laughter as he motioned with a jerk of the head for the boys to follow him to the barn.

"You'll want to be very quiet so as not to disturb the fish," Ezra explained, keeping his voice hushed for emphasis. He looked at the twins with their homemade fishing poles and grinned.

You were watching from the shore, safe and dry on the picnic blanket you'd dug out early that morning. Marie was beside you as she read her picture book, sounding the words out loud as best she could.

Warm sunlight filtered through the trees and a cool breeze lifted the lace sleeves of your dress from your shoulders. It was shaping up to be a beautiful day, just as Ezra had predicted.

"Careful now, son," Ezra warned, reaching towards Aiden. "You go whipping that pole around and you're liken to catch your brother in the seat of his pants with the fishing hook."

You saw that mischievous glint in Aiden's eyes and he grinned. You just raised a brow and stared at him until he caught your eye. He looked away suddenly, the gleam disappearing as quickly as it arrived.

"Mama," Marie mumbled, tapping on your arm. "What's this word?" She pointed to a word in her book and looked up at you expectantly.

"Sound it out," you encouraged, looking at the book. You helped her follow along with your finger as she sounded the word out.

"A... art-eye-kick?" she stammered, uncertain and shaky in tone.

"Not bad," you said with a smile. "It's 'arctic,' you said. "Try it again."

"Arr-tic," she repeated, sliding her finger under the word. "Better?"

You chuckled. "Better. There's three sounds, not two. But you did a wonderful job, little bug."

Marie beamed and then looked down at her book again. "What about this word?"

"Penguin," you hummed, sparing a glance down at the word and accompanying illustration.

"What's that?"

"An animal that was around a very long time ago," you explained. "Some of them are probably still around a very long way from here."

"It's got funny hair, mama," she said with a giggle as she, pointed to the picture. "Like Mr. Ezra's!"

You laughed softly and ruffled her hair a bit as you glanced up at Ezra. He was watching you both out of the corner of his eye, a warm smile on his face. "Mr. Ezra doesn't look like a penguin!"

"I am inclined to agree with you," Ezra called to you as he recast his net. "Though one can't argue with her solid logic, Princess."

You smiled and leaned back on your elbows to enjoy the sunlight. The morning dew was still cool enough to wet your skin as you dug your bare toes into the soft grass.

Henry and Aiden had figured out the basics of casting a line fairly easily, it seemed, and soon they were wading towards the slightly deeper water to cast their lines, despite your better judgement. With the two of them with their poles and Ezra with a small net, they were sure to catch something for dinner.

You pulled your book out of the picnic basket and opened it up to where you had left off from the previous night. The gentle sound of the water made for a pleasant background noise to accompany your reading and it was easy to lose yourself in the story. It was a scandalous romance, your book. An eager young woman keeping a secret romance with a stone-hearted mercenary - wholly obscene and tender all at once. It was a story you would have stuffed under the mattress as a girl to keep your grandmother from finding out about it. You found yourself imagining it were you in that scenario. It had always happened when you read books like that. It used to be your husband as the object of the heroine's affections, but now, someone else was slowly taking the place of the brooding mercenary.

As if he were sensing your thoughts, Ezra called for your attention, his hand gripping the net tightly as he stood knee deep in the water.

"Princess, I believe we have our first catch of the day!" Ezra exclaimed as he tugged the net out of the water. Trapped in the net was a shiny little fish, about the length of Ezra's forearm. It shone pink and green, sparkling in the sun as it flapped in its confines.

"You mean you didn't catch anything bigger?" Aiden asked as he recast his line. "That's so small!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive me, sir, I forgot you were a fishing expert," Ezra chided, walking towards the bank. He dropped the net to the ground and watched the fish as it flopped around for a bit.

You laughed and closed your book before standing. The grass gave way to gravel and mud as you approached the bank where Ezra stood over his catch.

"What do you think?" Ezra asked, nodding down at his net.

"Oh yes," you replied. "Maybe a few dozen more of these and we can make something with it."

"Your words cut like a knife, Princess," he teased, putting his hand over his heart. "Bring that box over here, would you? I want to keep this little one fresh. One catch is better than none."

You brought the box over to him and pried open the lid. The smell coming out of it was horrific, but you didn't comment as Ezra tossed the fish inside.

"Are you boys alright for a moment by yourselves?" Ezra asked. "I want to have a word with your mother."

"Yes, Mr. Ezra," Henry replied. He recast his line and tried his best to keep still, just as he was told so as not to disturb any fish.

You looked at Ezra, confused by his request to speak in private. He led you by a gentle hand at your elbow over to a small cluster of trees, still well within view of the children, but far enough that you wouldn't be disturbed or overheard.

"What is this about, Ezra?" you asked, worry evident in your voice. "What's wrong?"

Ezra lifted his hand and shook his head. "No, no, nothing is wrong," he said quickly. He bit his lip and sighed for a moment before continuing. "It's just that... do you remember how I told you about that supply freighter that comes through about once a month or so? Well, it turns out that we won't be getting that freighter for quite some time. I found out from Jacinta down at the store yesterday morning. She's been---"

Ezra's words faded into a drone in the background, drowned out by a roar in your ears. You felt your heart sink to your stomach and you reached out to steady yourself against the tree. The air felt like it had been pushed from your lungs and you stared blankly at Ezra as you tried to comprehend what he had just told you.

He reached out to steady you, his hand firmly on your waist to keep you upright. "Woah, Princess. Stay with me now. It's gonna be alright, understand? I have a plan for how you and your flock are going to get home. It might take some time, but I can get you there."

"How?" you asked. Your voice cracked and Ezra winced at how afraid you sounded. You looked over at your children, carefree and happy, and then back at Ezra, who was watching you with a worried expression. "How are you going to get us home?"

"I haven't fully fleshed out all those fine details yet, Princess, but I am making a promise to you right here, right now, that you will safely get back home." Ezra rubbed a soothing circle with his thumb on your hip and you reached down to put your hand over his. Thinking you were going to push his hand away, he began to pull back, but you grabbed his hand and held it tight. He looked a little surprised, but then smiled softly. "I won't abandon you, I promise. I will do whatever it takes."

You took a deep, shaky breath and then nodded. "Alright. I trust you. What shall I do to help you?"

Ezra chuckled. "You're asking what you can do to help me, help you? That can get confusing if we aren't careful, so for now, let's just say the only thing I want you to do is not tell your flock. We don't want them to be worried too."

You brushed your fingers against Ezra's hand and sighed. He was right, you figured. If you told them, then there would be no chance in trying to calm the children down. Might as well not say anything in the first place.

Ezra smiled and then chuckled as he looked at you. "I would fly you home myself, Princess. It's just a little more complicated than that. But what's life without tests?"

"There's purpose to those tests," you replied. "Often there's rewards that come with them."

Ezra smiled, his eyes flicking across your face. He pulled his hand from your hip, your own fingers dragging against his.

You looked over at the boys as they stood like little sentries in the shallows and motioned for Ezra to walk with you back to the picnic blanket. He held out his arm for you to take and you looped your arm through his as you wandered back. His touch comforted the frantic racing of your heart.

Marie was sound asleep, her book open to a page on people who used to live in houses made of ice, her thumb pulled between her lips. It was something she never fully kicked from infancy, one that your grandmother had often scolded you for as a mother and tried to force your daughter from continuing the habit. You didn't mind it though. If it was the only negative habit she ever developed, she would be far better off than half the population of the galaxy. You never thought it a glaring issue and therefore never corrected it. It infuriated your grandmother.

Both you and Ezra took a seat on the blanket on either side of Marie. He stretched his legs out and sighed happily as he looked around.

"You really did pick out a perfect spot for picnicking, Princess," he hummed contentedly. He looked down at Marie and chuckled softly. "Your little one here seems to be enjoying it too."

You sat in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying the birdsong and the sound of the water.

"May I ask you a question, Ezra?" you inquired, looking over at him. When he nodded, you continued. "A while ago you mentioned med vacs come maybe once a month if you're lucky. What do you do if someone is in danger?"

"Field medicine, typically," he replied, watching the boys recast their lines. "Though sometimes your standard bullet is more merciful than any doctor. But when on a job, one must choose the best option given the situation."

"Is that what happened," you asked, gesturing at his missing arm. "That is, of course if you don't mind my asking? Forgive me if I don't believe the story that you told the children a few days ago. It's been eating away at my curiosity."

Ezra grinned and raised the stump of his arm, inspecting the neatly pinned shirt sleeve. "Not at all. This was the result of a rather unfortunate incident out on the Green - one of Bakhroma's moons, see? Had a run in with another prospector whose eyes were bigger than his brain. So I shot him and his daughter shot me in retaliation, thinking I was out to harm her."

You nodded and scooted a bit closer, waiting to hear more. This was the first time Ezra was sharing something with you about his past. Despite the fact that he rarely stopped talking, he often fell silent when you inquired about him.

"We traveled together for a while, her and I, all the while my arm was festering in the dust. The Green kills, see? It gets inside and rots you from the inside out. Eats away at you. After a few agonizing cycles, I had no choice. It was life or limb. So the girl did the only thing that she could do, and I commend her for her steady hands and even steadier nerve."

"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I can't even imagine what that was like."

Ezra simply shrugged. He had a distant look in his eyes, as if he were trying to distance himself from the whole story. "She saved my life, such as it is, but in doing so, she created a whole new ordeal. See, no one wants to hire a one-armed harvester. Major liability, apparently. So here I am."

"And what about the girl?"

Ezra chuckled and hummed as he reminisced. "Cee is much better off than when I first met her. Went back to Central for school. She drops by every now and then - makes sure I'm not getting into any trouble."

He leaned back on his elbow and looked out across the creek to where the boys were fishing and smiled in spite of the story he just regaled you with.

"What is it?" you asked softly, not wanting to break his thought.

He shook his head and smiled slightly. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Not once had you ever heard Ezra not want to continue talking. It stunned you and you almost wondered if you'd done something to offend him. Perhaps asking him about what happened brought up too many bad memories for him to handle.

But Ezra turned back to you then and rested his hand on the blanket between you, picking idly at a loose string. "What are you gonna do when you get home? Back to your old life?"

You hadn't expected him to ask that question, and quite frankly, you didn't really have an answer.

"I'm not sure," you said, drawing your knees to your chest. "I suppose I'll go back to my duties as duchess. The children will go back to their lessons and I will simply pick up where I left off, I suppose..." You trailed off, suddenly realizing how boring it all seemed compared to the last few weeks on the farm. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you turned your head and brushed them away, not wanting him to see.

"Do you want that?" he asked softly.

"O-of course I do," you stammered, your hand still raised to try and hide your tears. You found yourself caught off guard by his question. "Why wouldn't I? The children, they--"

"Hey now," Ezra soothed, reaching for your hand. "It's alright. I didn't mean to upset you. I understand you need to go back. I do."

You looked at him and sighed. There had been a weight on your chest for some time that you couldn't place the source of. Perhaps it was years of expectations and unreasonable standards you had been held to since you were Marie's age. Perhaps it was the constant pressure for you to raise your children like your husband hadn't died, that he was only away for a while. Whatever that weight was, it vanished as soon as Ezra squeezed your hand.

"You don't need to let anyone tell you what to do," he said, turning on the blanket to look at you. "Or where to go, how to raise your own children, anything like that. You are free to make your own choices, Princess."

"How is it you always know just what to say?" you murmured, your voice thick with held back tears. "I am finding that to be true, though. These last few weeks have shown that to me. I am trying to be a good mother to my children."

"You are," he said softly. Ezra smiled and brushed his thumb against your knuckles. He looked down at your hands and then up at your face. It looked like he wanted to say something else, but he was interrupted by a triumphant cheer from the river. You both looked over at the boys, who were rushing back towards the bank, one fish dangling from Aiden's hook.

"Mama! Mama!" he cried excitedly as he dashed towards you. "Look, mama! I caught a fish!"

Both you and Ezra stood up to meet him as he rushed over to show you his catch. The fish was a little longer than the one Ezra had caught, still with those shiny pink and green scales.

"Oh, that's wonderful, darling!" you said, bending down to admire the fish. "He's beautiful, isn't he? We will have a feast, won't we?"

Aiden grinned and held the fish aloft for you and Ezra to look at. He looked incredibly pleased with himself.

"You mean you didn't catch anything bigger?" Ezra teased, parroting Aiden's earlier exclamation. He flashed you a wink and then laughed at the flabbergasted expression on Aiden's face. "I'm just pulling your leg, son, don't worry. You did an excellent job. Go ahead and throw it in this here cooler so we can take it home later."

Aiden carefully removed the hook like Ezra had taught him and placed it gently in the cooler beside Ezra's. He grabbed his fishing pole and looked up at you expectantly. "I'm gonna go see if I can catch more!"

"Be careful, my darling," you called after him. "Don't slip!"

As the day wore on, the cooler slowly filled with fish. Most were a standard size, according to Ezra, and some were smaller, about the size of your hand. Both were exceptional in taste as far as river fish went, or so Ezra claimed. You figured you could make just about anything palatable with the dried herbs from the garden.

Late in the afternoon, long after lunch had been eaten and the children had exhausted themselves from playing in the river, it was getting ready to go back to the farm. You had to stop yourself from calling it home when collecting the children. No need to get their hopes up, you figured. Later tonight after the children were put to bed, you and Ezra would need to have a long conversation about getting you all home.

Henry patiently helped you fold up the picnic blanket and gently placed back into the basket for you. He even made sure everything had been picked up from the surrounding area so you wouldn't have to. Earlier, he had caught a few fish himself, but quickly abandoned his fishing for exploring the surrounding area.

"Maybe I could find a lost civilization!" he had said before running off. He returned a while later, his pockets stuffed with rocks and flowers. Clutched in his fist were several puffy white flowers and he handed them to you with a dramatic sweeping bow that had made you laugh. You made sure to promise him that you would be careful with them until you reached the house.

You picked up the picnic basket and gently took hold of Marie's hand as you guided her to walk in front of you towards the little path you'd traveled earlier that morning. It wasn't a far walk from the farm, but you still didn't want to risk her getting lost.

Ezra dragged the cooler behind you two, the boys hanging back with him. They loved talking to Ezra as they walked - he often pointed out animal burrows or old gem deposits from back when Muir was a mining planet. There was a little rope bridge that was suspended over a rather high gully as the river wound its way through the forest.

"Go on, little bug," you urged, nudging Marie to cross. She whined and hesitated for a moment before she crossed, the bridge shaking and swaying as she ran. You looked back to make sure Ezra and the boys were behind you before you crossed, not wanting to leave them too far behind.

As you spotted them coming around the small turn in the path, you began to cross the bridge yourself. The wood creaked and groaned under your weight as you neared the halfway point.

You stepped forward, wanting to get off the bridge as quickly as you could. The wood suddenly splintered and cracked and fell apart under you.

For an instant, you were weightless, suspended in midair. You saw Marie's horrified expression as she watched you from the far side. Then you were falling, falling... falling. You couldn't even scream, your breath caught in your throat and unable to escape.

You heard the children scream in terror as you plunged into the river. Above their cries, you heard Ezra shouting your name. Not your title, not your nickname. Your name. He sounded terrified, unable to do anything but watch you fall into the water. You couldn't swim, you'd never learned how. You didn't know how this was going to end.

You hit the water with a violent crash and as you fell deeper into the water, you frantically thrashed your arms and legs, hoping you would be able to propel yourself to the surface. After an eternity, you touched down on the muddy river bottom. You felt something grab your leg and you quickly tried to pull it free. A sharp pain shot up from your ankle and you thrashed in the grip of whatever held you there. The water was cold and murky, hindering any attempts to try and free yourself. The icy water filled your lungs as you screamed for help, the bubbles the only indication of any sound leaving you.

As darkness closed in on you, your only thoughts were of who was going to look after your children? Would your mother ever find out what happened? Will Ezra be alright?

Ezra...

********

TAGLIST: If you want to be added, please let me know! @phoenixhalliwell @the-feckless-wonder @lestrange2703 @huliabitch @miscellaneous-mando @gallowsjoker

#prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #no use of y/n #my writing #pedro pascal #poetry for an heiress

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airi-p4 · 4 years

Text

Bra lover Boy

My second fic is a Lukanette fic too, of course! Includes fluff and teasing.

Warning: M rated (implied sex)

Thanks to @livrever for the proofread and corrections!

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It was nighttime in Luka’s rented apartment. The young man and his girlfriend Marinette were in his bedroom, lying together on the bed, facing up and almost naked. Marinette was wearing her panties and was partially covered by a slim bed sheet, while Luka was wearing only his boxers underwear. They were 21 and 19 now, but had just recently started dating after years of missed changes for their love to fully bloom. The right time for them had arrived after she confessed to him, who had been in love with her since their eyes met for the first time.

Some rays of light filtered through the curtains of the window of the 5th floor of the building. There was something indescribable in the air, and aura that filled the room with love and absolute happiness, as if a starry sky was sparkling at the ceiling of the room or if they had just been transported to some kind of heaven. A whole magical sensation, completely new for the young couple, that was now panting and gasping for air at a continuous and matching rhythm, without letting go of their joined hands despite how hot, sweaty, and tired they were.

A few minutes passed until their breaths were back to normal. Their heads rolled to face each other, staring at each other's eyes, smiling softly together with a noticeable blush on their cheeks.

The staring lasted for two minutes until the young woman felt like her vocals had returned and her excited but low voice left through her lips. “Luka, that was amazing... Thank you for taking into consideration that it was my first time…” she said, shyly.

“Well, I’m glad… It was my first time too...” Luka smiled shyly too, her soft smile never leaving his lips as he replied to his girlfriend.

His answer surprised her. “What!? But- I thought… I mean- you knew exactly how to treat me kindly and…” Marinette’s usual rambles were about to start but were quickly shushed by her boyfriend.

“That’s because I love you and I’ve dreamed and imagined this so many times… like- for years, you know? I really wanted to make sure you were comfortable and not hurt you in any way, so I did my research. ” he squished her hand in a caring way.

The girl didn’t need a mirror to know her face had just turned redder. She noticed how her cheeks got hotter, even if she couldn’t see it. Her smile had grown uncontrollably wider too. She felt the closest ever to her boyfriend after their first intimate time together.

“Oh… thank you…” She said. But suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind. “But what about the bra hook? I heard it’s difficult to for boys to unhook it. But you undid it so easily! Even faster than I can! You can just learn that by researching it. You need practice to achieve that skill… Don’t tell me you’ve been practicing with Juleka’s bra? Eww!” Her smile had changed into a teasing one as she giggled. It surprised her that Luka’s reaction to the teasing wasn’t his usual, but an unexpected one, like he was… shocked…? And embarrassed too...? That was new and sparked curiosity on the blue-haired lady.

“No way! Stop, please! It’s… even more embarrassing than that…” His voice volume lowered gradually for every syllable he let out his mouth.

“Oh…? Now I’m curious. Let me hear it”.

Marinette let go of Luka’s hand, and rolled her almost naked body over his, impeding him from moving freely, except for his arms, one of them being placed immediately on her lower back, as if his skin were attracted to hers like a magnet. She kissed his nose, softly, although her smile turned kind of evil in an instant, as she was enjoying his boyfriend’s embarrassed reaction to her teasing.

The musician knew Marinette hated liars, reason enough for him to decide not to lie to her, EVER. Instead of that, he decided to remain silent. But after a glance at his girlfriend’s curious eyes he knew he had to tell the truth- Marinette was extremely stubborn and persistent when she wanted something. And now she wanted to know his extremely embarrassing story.

“Ok…” He finally agreed, defeated by her beautiful, curious, and begging eyes.

Out of the embarrassment, Luka avoided eye contact as he started to speak, covering his eyes with his hand and fingers. Even though he was shy and nervous, he began to tell his never-told-to-anyone before story to his lover.

“Do you remember when you had that girls only sleepover at the Liberty, some months ago?” Marinette made a sound to confirm. “I stayed as my friend’s house that day and, you know that. And well... when I came back home…” he paused for a second before continuing talking, without daring to glance at his girlfriend’s eyes, but looking at her lips through his fingers instead, in order to track her reactions. ”There was a bra on my bed." He paused again. "Before I could tell or ask Juleka about it, I heard her on the phone talking to you about a missing bra designed and created by the one and only Marinette Dupain-Cheng, possibly forgotten somewhere in the ship after 'the girls' sleepover. After hanging up the phone, Juleka asked me if I had seen it, giving me a super detailed description of its design: blue/turquoise colored and music-themed with waves and music notes on it on one cup. She even mentioned a snake design used as an under band from start to its end, with its head with fangs used as hooks attached to it in the front. The description also included some lacey pink flowers on the other cup and some yellow see-through over the shoulders. I couldn’t tell her that was the EXACT same bra I had just found on my bed... Not after she teasingly accused me of hiding it for pervert purposes!” ‘Which is exactly what I did, I guess…’ he thought. “I was too embarrassed so I couldn’t tell her or you anything about it after that…”

Luka gulped, and Marinette said nothing, she just listened to him, kind of amused. He continued then.

“I just… hid it... And after knowing it belonged to you, and that you had worn it to show it to your friends that day… I was greedy... and I used it to fantasize about you wearing it, touching it, imagine how your hands had worked to make it, your possible inspiration for every detail… And I practiced to unhook it many times too, in hope that, someday, if you let me, I’d be able to see it over your body… and maybe take it off of your body too… ” he paused again as Marinette still remained silent. Which made Luka awkward. And that led him to continue with his talk without thinking much, just to break their silence, while expectant for his lover’s reaction. “God… this is so embarrassing… Say something, please...”

Luka was blushing heavily at his confession, still avoiding eye contact. His lustful actions and desires had just been exposed to the girl he had loved for years and that was now his girlfriend. He was nervous knowing that it might disappoint her, as it probably was an unexpected and different side of the Luka she had not known all this time. He won’t be seen as a pure gentleman anymore, but a young man full of sexual needs.

“I can’t believe I even…” he added, with a sigh, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“Even what?” Marinette urged the boy to continue to his story, but the boy stayed silent, with his hand still covering his face. She could see he was biting his lips out of embarrassment. Then, out of nowhere, the girl shoved him an awkward question, giggling:

“Don’t tell me you tried it on?”

Luka’s reaction was all she need to know the answer.

“OMG you did!” Marinette’s laughter filled Luka’s apartment. “Hahaha! I can’t believe it!! That’s not the image I had of you! Oh God... so funny!” She wiped the tears from her eyes.

“That’s not I-…! Ugh… Don’t laugh, please. There’s no way I could… It doesn’t even fit me…” He was desperate to deny all evidence, too embarrassed to admit the truth.

“How do you know that? Oh-oh…” She could see his blush under his hands as she evilly grinned. “So it didn’t fit when you tried it on, huh…?”

“Sh*t…”

He knew he had been found out after seeing his girlfriend’s victorious expression on her face. So he gave up trying to defend himself and, without even thinking, his true feelings were the first ones to leave his mouth.

“This is all because I’m crazy for you. Geez… Don’t judge me for my feelings”

Eye contact finally took place between the two lovebirds, making it a first since Luka’s confession started. His blue eyes were showing his embarrassment, but also an infinite love towards the girl lying on him. His love filled gaze was honest, and Marinette could feel his pure love piercing through her heart.

“Bu-u-u-ut…! Don’t attack me acting cute like that when I’m making fun of you! So unfair…!” she pouted.

It was her turn to blush now, as she pronounced her words in a cry. His not-on-purpose counterattack were very effective on her and saved the boy from deeper embarrassment. She grabbed a cushion to cover her face with it and moved to the side of the bed, her back facing towards his boyfriend’s body. With his freedom of movements recovered, the musician got partially up and looked at her from over his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be laughing in first place! Geez… I wouldn’t have told you if I had known you would tease me this much…”

Then, as Marinette stayed silent, Luka’s hand stretched towards his drawer, placed just next to the bed. Passing his hand over Marinette’s body, he reached its handle and opened it. Marinette took a peek over the cushion, curious about her boyfriend’s intentions, wondering if he had any ‘adult toys’ hidden inside.

“Here…it’s been in this drawer all this time… I’ll take it to the laundry, and I’ll give it back to you once it’s properly washed” he said, grabbing a piece of clothing in his hand.

And there it was. The infamous bra her boyfriend had been fantasizing about all this time. The bra that had been in Luka’s hands since that day months ago. The one that had been touched multiple times as she had been that night, trails of magic left with every touch of his fingers on her skin. Ripples of sensations that still remained on her, capable of reaching not only his heart but also her soul. She already knew she loved him, but her body now knew she could never stay apart from him. Not after finally knowing the meaning of true love.

She caught the bra from his hands, throwing the cushion away, and stared at it. She remembered perfectly how it was designed and created, and every one of the details that decorated the piece of art in the form of the lingerie she was holding.

“You know…?” she started, and Luka centered his attention to her words “I was very disappointed when I lost this bra. Not only because I put a lot of effort into it, but also because I made it in order to surprise this particular boy… I worked on it for weeks! Alya too was excited about it too… And I was looking forward to wearing it during my first time with my boyfriend if he accepted my feelings and agreed to date me but… Couldn’t you tell? YOU were on my mind all the time I spent making this... and even earlier”. Marinette’s gaze met Luka’s surprised eyes, smiled softly, and continued staring at bra just the second after “But… since I lost it, I had to work on plan B, and it all had to wait a few more weeks since I could properly confess and use another brand new hand-made one for tonight… and it’s a shame because this new one isn’t as pretty as the original one...”

“Marinette, you… You made this thinking of me…? Since months ago…!? You’ve been… I mean – You’ve liked me for so long? I… I thought… Ugh… I feel so stupid... I could have become your boyfriend way earlier if I hadn’t hidden your bra…”

Sitting on the bed and covering his face with his hands, Luka was in denial. Frustration, regret, and some sadness were the feelings that surfaced. Not a single sound could leave through his lips, pressed against each other. But Marinette smiled at his reaction.

“Ohh…” she started to say, “You wanted to see this that much, huh…?”

Luka’s hand left his face as his eyes looked now at his girlfriend, who was on her knees in front of him, wearing the bra he’s been dreaming to see on her for weeks – no, the accurate number would be 3 months and six days. None of the Marinettes from his dreams could compare to the original. For Luka, her beauty was out of this world and he was sure he wouldn't be able to restrain himself much longer when Marinette winked and bit her lips, provoking her boyfriend to go and get his long-awaited and desired fantasy. He was ALMOST speechless but managed to pronounce some words that almost couldn’t be heard because of his own heartbeat.

“My Goddess… You’re gorgeous… Don’t think you can avoid a second round after turning me on like this.. ” Without thinking, his hand had placed on her ribs, as he positioned his body to get ready to kiss the woman of his dreams.

“You know I’m all yours...” she sighed, in expectation.

The blue-eyed girl was already approaching to seal her lips with his, but was stopped before they could actually touch them, meeting the musicians finger in the way.

“Wait a second. Let me admire YOU for a moment before that. You can’t imagine how long I’ve been dreaming of this… You’re so beautiful… so perfect...”

“Ugh…! Just take it off already, you bra lover boy!” she giggled as she got impatient and jumped to hug and kiss her boyfriend, who was more than happy to receive her affections. Moments after the hook was already off without her even noticing. ”How the hell do you do that?” she asked, between kisses. “You should know my fingers are magical” he answered, and left a giggle at his girlfriend’s response “hell yeah, they are!”.

_________________________________________

After 2nd round.

“Luka… Can I ask you something?”

“Yes?” Marinette kept her face down and seemed sad to Luka’s eyes “Marinette? Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” Luka was scared as he approached her lover’s face, hands on her shoulders, extremely worried for his girlfriend’s wellness.

Instead of an answer, another question was thrown at him.

“Should… Should I…” Luka was listening, giving her all his worrying attention. “Should I make a bra for you next time?”

And there she was. Teasing him, AGAIN. She enjoyed it and he fell for it EVERY DAMN TIME. His eyebrows were frowned and didn’t answer. Marinette couldn’t keep her laugh inside her anymore, transforming it into a hysterical laughter.

“Marinette! Stop it already, Geez...”

“I’m sorry Luka, but your embarrassed face is just too cute!” she said, hugging him while still laughing.

“You’re mean, Marinette. You continue to tease me even after knowing how embarrassed I am…”

“Ok, OK… I get it, I’ll stop” she paused “But you want one, right?”

Luka frowned at her question, but still gave her an answer “You know I could never say no to my dear girlfriend...”. And Marinette giggled at his words.

“You’re adorable! Thank you for telling me about the bra despite your embarrassment. You know I like honest people and I’m super grateful you never lie to me. I love you so much!” her smile was as bright as the full moon outside the window. Her hand moved then to rest on Luka’s cheek. He took the lady’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly before letting his voice out.

“I love you too, Marinette. Even if you are mean and tease me, I can’t resist your charms” he smiled.

“Then don’t resist and come here again. Or are you tired?” she asked.

“I could never get tired of you, My love.”

His body was already over hers while he pronounced his words, his lips meeting hers as soon as the sound of his voice became silent, tongues finding their way to savour each other, letting their burning passion take control.

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The next morning

The next morning arrived with some chill breezes coming from the slightly open window. Being summer, the weather was hot and the sun rose early, its shiny rays of vitamin entering through the slowly dancing curtains and meeting the sleepy faces of the happy couple sleeping on the bed in Luka's room. That was enough to wake them up, although they were still tired and avoiding getting up at all costs. Luka finally surrendered and got mentally prepared to get up. Not without turning his head to look at the young woman who owned his heart. Only then, he started opening his eyes, studying how Marinette was making faces, trying hard to ignore the light coming inside the room and continue to sleep, without much success. Her little disgusted sounds were amusing Luka, who was surely enjoying the view: he loved his girlfriend’s face, but also loved seeing his hickeys all over her neck and upper chest. He only spoke when he could tell she wouldn't fall asleep again.

“Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well? I’m gonna make some coffee. Want some?” he asked with a loving smile.

“Hm…?” Marinette mumbled something incomprehensible, but he knew she wanted him to repeat his question.

“Coffee?” he asked again, giggling at her sleepyhead.

“Hmm… yes please… with milk and sugar...” she finally managed to say. Finally trying to open her eyes.

“Of course.”

Luka loved having the girl he loved close and didn't want to leave her side, even if it was just to bring her some coffee. But he needed one and knew Marinette would be even more grateful than him for one too.

The musician stretched his neck and upper body to kiss his girlfriend's forehead. As he started moving, he noticed that something was impeding his movements, something pressed over his arms and chest. Before he could actually kiss his girl, he looked down just to find he was wearing Marinette's bra, backwards and untied.

“WTH-!?” he mumbled, frowning his eyebrows in annoyance.

“Pffff….” the blue-eyed girl couldn't restrain her laugh anymore despite her efforts, so a giggle escaped her. That was everything the blue-eyed young man needed to understand what happened.

“Marinette!! You little mischievous lady…! Stop bullying me over bras already!"

He raised his voice, taking the bra off carefully and tickling her in revenge. Marinette could only laugh louder in response, his laugh joining hers soon.

And just like that, their Sunday started: with love, kisses, coffee and a beautiful bra that would lead Marinette's teasing for a while and haunt and embarrass Luka forever.

THE END

#lukanette fic #airipyon #my fic #lukanette #airip4 #M rated fic #I hope you enjoyed it :)#on ao3 too #fic by me #thanks for reading

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