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kooktrash · 8 months

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LIMERENCE | jeon jungkook

summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back

warnings: angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26] retired emos. exes to lovers. unprotected intercourse [listen it had been six years they weren’t waiting 😭] jk has a bellybutton piercing and he smokes. jk owns a camera shop. supportive besties Jimin and Tae and Yoongi. Y2K styled camcorders. a small argument on one of the tapes

LIMERENCE MASTERLIST

➢ genre/au: exes to lovers, smut, Y2K videotape style [ ex boyfriend!jk x ex girlfriend!y/n [she/her. female anatomy ]

➢ 18.4k words

song inspo: risk — deftones, 505 — arctic monkeys, afraid — xavier omar, who [feat. BTS] — lauv

The end of a chapter in your life always came when you least expected it. You’ll wake up one day and it’ll hit you that you don’t talk to the same people. You don’t do the same things or act the same way and when you look back at before, it will feel so far from the person you are now.

Standing before your half empty apartment began to bring this growing feeling of sadness inside you. It made you feel stupid but you just couldn’t help it, this was the end of a huge time in your life where you felt like you really began to develop into who you are. After seven years living here, you’re finally moving on and everything that happened here would be left behind. All the laughter, the crying, the break ups that left you balling your eyes out on the kitchen floor. You would soon move into a clean slate and for some reason that was hitting you hard.

It probably didn’t help that your dear friend managed to find a box of things— you haven’t thought about in quite literally years—hidden away in an old storage space on the ceiling. The sides of the cardboard box were in ruins with wet patches and bent corners. There was no writing on the sides but on the top a big line of red duct tape with the words ‘JJK’ and a few small scissors stab marks next to it. Jimin looked up at you with a raised brow, “Are you keeping this one?”

Your expression seemed to flatten as you looked down at it, unsure what to say and he sighed, “Come on Y/n, it’s late, I want to get as much of this out as we can. Are you keeping this one?”

“Um,” You looked back down at it, nodding your head, “Yes.”

Since the day you found that box and told Jimin you were keeping it, all it’s done is collect dust in the corner of your new living room, out of place and constantly on your mind. Your friends were a big help in the move, especially Jimin who had hauled that huge cardboard box up three flights of stairs to your new place without question to what was in it. It wasn’t until he got tired of seeing it sit in the corner for an entire week after everything had been unpacked that he really began to get curious about it.

“So what’s in that thing?” Jimin asked that Friday night you lounged around your apartment, proud to have finally gotten everything out. Tonight was the first night your mutual friend would be over and it was like a housewarming party with the only two people who can stand being around you.

“What’s in what?” You asked, catching a glance at your friend, Somin, who’s knowing eyes bore into yours—already knowing what he was talking about. The thing is, Somin was very aware of what was in that box and she’s been biting her tongue all night from asking why you still had it.

“The box, it’s just been sitting there,” Jimin said pointing to it, “It’s kinda ruining this whole vibe you’ve got going on here with all the black decor and house plants.”

“Just some old stuff,” you shrugged it off, looking back down at the playing cards in your hands, “I haven’t found a place to put it.”

Somin raised a brow at you but you ignored her this time to continue your game of cards and drink your wine. Jimin looked at her, “Do you know what’s in it?”

You sighed, “Jimin, I told you it’s just some old stuff.”

“Yes, Y/n, but old stuff can be a lot of things and that box was heavy so I’m curious,” Jimin said exaggeratedly, “Can’t a man be curious these days?”

“It’s no—“

“It’s a bunch of old home videos,” Somin said as she poured herself more wine casually like she hadn’t just exposed what was inside your secret box. Jimin’s jaw dropped, “Wait, Y/n, you used to do porn?”

“What!?” You nearly choked, “No—well, like on—no! Those aren’t that type of home video, they’re just… y'know old tapes.”

“Like from when you were a kid?” Jimin asked with a scoff, “Let’s watch them.”

“I’m not a kid,” You said shaking your head no, “And no, let’s not watch them.”

“I agree with Jimin,” Somin cut in after watching you begin to panic a bit, “You kept them for a reason, let’s see why. Jimin’s never seen them.”

You laughed nervously, “Come on, it’s just silly stuff, I just kept them for the memory, that’s all.”

“We don’t doubt it,” Jimin said with a smirk, “But come on, let me see one—just one.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine!”

The three of you huddled around it with a pair of keys using the jagged end to cut into the old tape and the box nearly fell apart just like that. When Jimin pulled the tabs open, the three of you seemed to lean in closer and closer with anticipation for the reveal until finally, a silence fell over you.

Jimin didn’t hesitate from reaching into it, scabbing row after row of old VCR tapes with white labels on the sides with similar titles in a numerical order.

‘JJK 1’

‘JJK 2’

‘JJK 3’

‘JJK 4’

There were 24 tapes in the box and he counted every single one meaning these spanned two years with one tape filmed per month. The same initials that had been on top of the box had been written on the tapes and he couldn’t help himself from picking up the first one. “Let’s watch it.”

“No! No,” you said, taking it out of his hands, “You wanted to see what was inside and you saw, be happy with what you get, I don’t have anything to play these on anyway.”

“I do!” Somin piped in, “I’ve got my old tape player back home, say the words and I’ll go get it.”

“Not neces—“

“Do it.”

What you wanted at the moment seemed to be outnumbered by your friend’s curiosity and your other friend’s need to satiate it. You were left alone with Jimin for twenty minutes as Somin left to get it and he rummaged through them trying to ask you what they were, only for you to evade each question out of stubbornness. Now she’s back and you’re watching them set everything up on your flatscreen while you sat back on your couch chugging back your glass of wine nervously.

Jimin smiled mischievously as he held up a tape, building anticipation before placing it into the player and letting it start.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 1 : THE SHOP ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

There was a pungent chemical smell surrounding the register you currently sat on that had the customers in line scrunching their noses in disgust but that didn’t seem to stop either one of you from what you were doing. He worked with one hand as best as he could while you worked on the other applying a cold layer of polish onto his fingers.

A small black nail polish was set down on the counter next to a silver cam recorder that had been angled at the two of you this whole time, capturing on video the way you painted your coworker’s nails. Jungkook bid them farewell before turning his attention back on you, “Hurry up, we’re starting to get busy again.”

“Shh,” you pointed a manicured finger up, “You can’t rush perfection.”

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you,” Jungkook said as you brought his hand closer to your lips trying to dry his nails with your warm breath. The video seemed to have a perfect view of the way his eyes glossed over with affection when he looked at you and you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh my god, every girl is going to want to sleep with you,” you eyed his nails proudly, “You look hot.”

“I’ve always been hot,” Jungkook said looking down at his black nails that complimented his black leather and beaded bracelets that lined his wrists, “Okay but how cool do these make me look? Like, would you sleep with me?”

He tilted his head toward you in curiosity and for a moment you just looked at him in thought before finally shrugging, “Yeah, I’d do it.”

“Do what?” Jungkook asked, shaking his black hair out of his face. With the way the camera was aimed, the two of you looked zoomed in but it still managed to capture the way your eyes stayed on each other wordlessly, the tension felt through the screen.

‘Can someone help get a shirt down?’

He watched you hop off the graffiti-covered counter and grabbed the long hook that helped get things down and left with her—not before responding with a simple, “You.”

Once your answer registered in his head, he wasted a single second to look at his camera, wondering if it had caught this small flirty moment the two of you had while you painted his nails and the thought alone made him smirk, biting against his lip ring too. He didn’t think he would get his nails painted at work today but when he saw you doing your own, you convinced him and he spent the last ten minutes messing around with you, flirting here and there.

The shift had been boring for the most part and all the songs that played he'd already heard a million times over. This is his fifth time singing along to Falling Away From Me by Korn. Do you think he wants Korn stuck in his head all day?

His beanie clad head bobbed to the rifts in the song, quietly lip synching as he went back to doodling on an old receipt paper. Some of the ink from the pen he used was smudging and the black hearts he drew were getting ruined but he didn’t care. He’ll either throw it away or stick it on your back if he wants to.

“Beating me down! Beating me, beating me down, down, into the ground,” a voice sang loudly in his ear making him jump in fear.

“Don’t moan in my fucking ear, bro,” Jungkook said holding a hand to his ear, the softness of his beanie tickling his fingers. Taehyung threw himself against the counter with his back pressed against it looking at his friend, “You know you liked it.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook said as he blew air on his nails again, drawing Taehyung’s attention to them. He stuck a hand out as if waiting and Jungkook put his hand over it to show him his nails.

Taehyung seemed impressed as he asked, “Who did them?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n!” Taehyung shouted abruptly and Jungkook flinched away with annoyance, ready to tell him you were helping a customer when you popped around the corner with a t-shirt and hanger in your hands and the customer behind you.

“What?” Your brows arched in confusion as you looked at your coworker who has spent the last twenty minutes in the stockroom between Nirvana posters and new Metallica tees hiding so he could play his Nintendo GameBoy. Jungkook was careful not to fuck up his black nails and took the shirt from you so he could check the customer out.

Taehyung pointed to Jungkook’s nails,“Can you do mine next?”

A scoff left your lips, joining him next to the counter standing close to ask, “Are you going to pay me?”

His jaw dropped as he turned back to Jungkook, “What the fuck? Did he?”

“Thank you, have a good night,” Jungkook mumbled to the customer as she left with a new t-shirt before turning to the other two, “I’m buying Y/n lunch tomorrow.”

“I’ll buy you lunch the day after.”

“You can’t. That’s not original.” You said to him with a teasing smirk. The two of you were standing close to each other as you talked, Taehyung’s voice dropped when he spoke to you, “You know what, just because the two of you got a little crush on each other doesn’t mean you’ve gotta favor him.”

Jungkook looked down at the drawing he made, trying his best to act like he hadn’t heard what Taehyung said, but it didn’t stop the growing blush to his cheeks. It’s true, maybe he does have a thing for you but it’s still too early to tell, y’know? He’s not sure how to explain it but you seem to get him. The two of you like the same kind of music and know the same sort of things. You listen to him talk and when he’s quiet, you don’t question it. You make him feel comfortable and when you flirt with him he wonders if you feel the same.

Honestly, that’s all he’s wanted these days, his attraction toward you to be reciprocated anyway it could be. He thinks about you constantly, probably more than what’s healthy but he can’t help it.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the shuffling movement of Jungkook pulling himself up on the counter, “Just say you’re jealous and feel left out.”

“Bitch?!” Taehyung scoffed, “I wouldn’t feel this way if you treated us fairly, instead you give him special treatment.”

“You realize you’re arguing with me over getting your nails painted?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly annoyed and once Jungkook saw that he was fully pulling you his way. He threw an arm around your neck, hugging you from behind as he sat on the counter and rested his head on yours, “Ignore him, he’s in a mood because he just got dumped.”

“Fuck you, I broke up with her!” Taehyung nearly yelled, staring at the two of you with disgust as Jungkook fixed the beanie on your head that had slipped a little too low over your eyes.

Just as you were getting ready to respond to him, the door of the stockroom opened and your boss was coming out with a blank expression, “Can you guys do your jobs instead of fuck around?”

“Yoongi, I’m being bullied,” Taehyung argued, “Fire them already.”

“I’ll fire you too,” Yoongi teased before looking at Jungkook, “Get off my counter.”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video came to an end as your old boss stood in front of the camera, blocking out the footage that ended with Jungkook whispering something into your ear.

“Who’s that guy? An ex boyfriend?” Jimin asked as the video came to an end. Somin released a soft laugh as she looked at your blank expression, unsure what to say. Before you could speak up, she was doing it for you, “That's the ex boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Don’t immortalize him,” you said with a slight roll of your eyes as you watched Jimin rummage through the box in search of another video to play. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as a strange ounce of nerves began to set in, watching him unlock a deep rooted memory you had told yourself you had forgotten. Somin sent you a knowing look as she matched the roll of your eyes with her own, “How else should I refer to him as? The guy who filmed a video each month that you two were together?”

“Damn,” Jimin laughed, slumping back in a chair as he looked at you, “So how come I’ve never heard of this videographer.”

“Because Y/n’s asham—“

“Alright! No more wine for you,” you leapt forward to snatch the glass out of your friend’s hands watching her giggle drunkenly, “You’re just saying things now.”

“Come on Y/n, I’m curious,” Jimin said tugging on your sleeve, “If you won’t let her tell me… you gotta do it. Don’t act like you don’t still think about it, why else would you have all these tapes still?”

“Because it’s not everyday someone makes 26 movies for you—and not all of them are as happy as this one,” you confessed as you looked down at ‘JJK 1’ it had been a video log of when the two of you really began to show some attraction toward each other just before he asked you out. Looking back at the video all you could think was how back then you were both young, you could see it on your faces and the sparkles in your eyes. Not all of the videos in that box would be like this one.

“Alright,” Jimin sighed, “Well then just tell me who Jeon Jungkook is.”

Sounds of a rock song’s electric guitar blurred out the noises from inside the dark shop. The store was covered in black and dark blue with its black walls and blue hues of light that shined down over dozens of cameras and melancholic portraits. It had an obviously cold aura and for some reason that had a tendency to always bring him comfort.

He felt warmth in the coolness of his small shop and oftentimes it was difficult to leave it behind, even when the night sky had appeared and the ‘closed’ sign had been flipped. The only thing that kept him from spending yet another night in the store was a set of plans that had been made days prior by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. When it came time to leave, he locked up shop and left on his motorcycle.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” his dear friend raised a glass of whiskey to him as he sat alone at the bar, “I was wondering if you were gonna come or not.”

“I didn’t realize I had an option,” he joked bitterly, making his friend send him a glare that was quickly wiped away when something came to mind. “So I met this chick, she’s got this friend wh—“

“No.”

“Jungkook,” his friend said, watching his friend stir the ice in his scotch, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Jungkook released a scoff as he looked at him, “You were going to say that this friend wants to meet me and that I should go and get drinks with her or something.”

He sat there quietly, speechless by how spot on his best friend was, “Alright, maybe you did know what I was going to say but just hear me out… she’s hot. Uh, um, she’s your type—honestly, I’m your best friend so trust me.”

“No, Taehyung, you always say the same thing and it's always a huge waste of time,” Jungkook shook his head adamantly, “I don’t get why you’re always trying to set me up with someone whenever you get into a relationship. We’ve been friends for eight years and you’re still this clingy?”

“Okay first of all, fuck you, I’m not clingy,” Taehyung told him with a scoff, “Second, I’m trying to do you a favor considering you can’t keep a relationship to save your life.”

That made Jungkook roll his eyes as he looked anywhere but at his friend. The two sat at the counter of some quiet lounge bar where they had agreed to meet at. He raised his glass to his lips for a drink as he said, “Some people aren’t meant to be in relationship—“

“No, you wanna know what your problem is?” Taehyung cut him off, “It’s that you’re too damn picky. Hate to say it friend, but nobody is ever going to be her.”

His expression hardened as he forced his glare on the silver rings he wore, listening to the way they clinked against the polished bartop. He didn’t give Taehyung a response right away, too busy trying not to roll his eyes again but it was no use, his tongue poked against his cheek and his friend knew he got a reaction. Jungkook tilted his head in thought, “Why do you still bring Y/n up?”

“Because she was your longest relationship,” Taehyung said with a shrug. He was pushing his friend for a response and he felt a little bad but sometimes he just needs to get his friend to talk. Jungkook has always been on the quieter side, even years back. All he did was listen to music and videographed things he liked. He was a bit intimidating—still is—but it was only because he was so quiet. Sure, he knew how to joke around but Taehyung’s known him long enough to feel the difference in his friend lately. He’s become more of a shut-in, busy with the store and not focused on anything else.

“Yeah, six years ago,” Jungkook emphasized with a scoff, “And she broke up with me, remember?”

“I mean… yeah but… don’t you ever think about it?” Taehyung asked suddenly, “I still think about my first love.”

“Y/n was not my first love,” Jungkook’s brows furrowed, remembering the two girlfriends before he ever met you. Taehyung gave him a look, “Not your first girlfriend but definitely your first love. What do you think Y/n’s up to?”

He hadn’t noticed how his leg began to bounce anxiously as he took a sigh, “How would I know? You’re the one who still talks to her.”

“Not true,” Taehyung shook his head no, “We haven’t talked in over three years.”

“Hm,” Jungkook sounded unimpressed as he chugged back the rest of his drink, motioning the bartender over to ask for another round. He wasn’t in the mood to keep talking about this and it caught him off guard.

He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about you but he’s got no doubt in his mind it was because of Taehyung back then too. This is the problem with being best friends with the guy who was with you through all the ups and downs and hasn’t seen you put your all into a relationship since. The only thing Jungkook doesn’t get is why Taehyung is stuck on the idea that he never got over you.

You both were young back then. The end of your adolescence started with the beginning of adulthood and the two of you had just so happened to spend the first two years together like that. You dated when you were 18 and broke up when you were 20, it was so long ago and now it’s just a last memory to him. He hasn’t seen you in six years and the only time he ever wastes time thinking about you is when you’re brought up. He’s managed to push you so far back in his head that he’s only reminded of you when someone else mentions you and every time it happens, it hurts a little more.

Taehyung has this problem with revisiting the past anytime he’s drunk and since he met him at the same time that he met Y/n… it’s no surprise that some of those early memories had you in them. He never failed to remind Jungkook that he had felt like a child with divorced parents having to choose a side when you two broke up. Time and time again Jungkook reminds him that he could’ve gone off and been best friends with you if that’s what he really wanted but then it would end in an argument over the friendship.

Jungkook reached into the pocket of his black jeans for his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Taehyung, “So tell me about this friend.”

“She’s blonde—natural or not, I’m not sure—but she’s attractive and nice. She seems a bit extroverted, kinda bubbly so I don’t know how you’ll feel about that but I’m telling you… you’ll like her,” Taehyung said, happy to drop the current topic to go back to the original point in conversation.

He tried to listen to his friend’s description of this woman he wanted Jungkook to meet but he couldn’t. It was really all Taehyung’s fault for making him think about you and all his past relationships. He’ll admit, he’s been in quite a few and none have lasted more than a few months aside from the one with you. It was normal for yours to be the one that left the biggest impact on him but he wouldn’t say that’s why he stays away from relationships.

There might be a time here and there where Jungkook does indulge in carnal desires and sleeps with someone but they’re never anything more than that.

He’s got too much shit going on to waste time dating someone.

After a long night of hearing his friend go on and on about a woman he thinks is good for him, he returned to his loft apartment tired and alone. Like his shop, his apartment had the same cool tone to it. The walls were black and some brick, blue lights were tucked away in corners angling up toward photographic portraits he’s done in the last few years and his black 1968 Gibson Custom Les Paul Electric guitar hanging proudly in his living room. His Doberman leapt happily at the sight of his owner and he followed after Jungkook as he stepped onto his couch taking the guitar off its hooks to examine it.

To be honest, he rarely plays the guitar nowadays and it’s not because he forgot how to play or because he lost his love for it but it’s not the same anymore. Now it just sits as a reminder of who he was with when he got it and just how he got it. As if this guitar wasn’t a constant reminder of you, his dear friend felt the need to bring you up too.

It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault things happened the way they did and it’s not his fault that it fell apart for him too but… sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if Taehyung didn’t push him to date you all those years back.

For days on end all you could do was think about that stupid box. It didn’t help that you had no room for it so it remained in your living room taunting you, pressing you to play just one more video. It’s strange how you hadn’t thought about this box or Jungkook in a long time and now he’s randomly showing back up in your life without even knowing it. Honestly, it was embarrassing.

You’ve randomly begun to think about a guy you dumped when you were 20 years old and for some reason that’s starting to get to you. It was making you anxious like all of a sudden you’ve realized how much time has passed. If it wasn’t for moving out of your old apartment, you wouldn’t have even thought about this but not that you’re looking back… this was supposed to be that ending.

You were supposed to leave it all behind when you moved and instead you brought it with you to your new beginning.

“Y/n.” The man across from you called your name as you stared off in the distance. He released a small sigh, “Come on kid, you wanted to get lunch, what’s up?”

“I’m not a kid,” you told Yoongi with a glare in your eyes, “And maybe I just wanted to catch up with an old friend of mine.”

Yoongi lifted an unamused brow, “Are you calling me old or our friendship old?”

“A little bit of both,” you said with a teasing smile, taking a sip from your drink as the two of you waited for your food, “But anyway, no, I haven’t seen you in like a month and I kinda missed you.”

“Right…” Yoongi looked away, “So what have you been up to? How’s the new apartment?”

You released a sigh as Yoongi began to ask you things and tried sorting your answers in your head, “I’ve been too busy moving but the apartment is nice, a little less space than I originally thought but nothing I can’t manage.”

“And how’s the magazine?” Yoongi asked, taking a short pause to thank the server who brought your plates out, “Did you get that promotion?”

“Yes!” Your eyes widened and a smile came to your face, “I did, we’re still working on transfers but you’re looking at the new Editorial Assistant.”

“Soon to be new Editor,” Yoongi said proudly, “I can’t believe I’ve seen you grow from some emo kid who used to work for me to an adult on their way to their dream job.”

“I know,” you released a sigh at the thought of how far you’ve come. When you graduated high school you worked at a streetwear shop and you stayed there part time when you started college. It’s gotta be the best place you’ve ever worked at and the environment was always laid back. Yoongi was the one to push you and ask what you wanted to be and when you told him your plan to work at a magazine he was always right there beside you. Now at 26, you’re just a step away from Editor. It’s crazy how much can change in six years and that alone made you ask, “I know this is random but do you still talk to old employees?”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed, “I talk to you.”

“I mean beside me,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you poured yourself more water in your glass. You wanted to say this was all just out of curiosity considering he’s the one who brought up the time you worked for him but in reality… you planned on asking him this when he agreed to lunch.

“Mm, not really. I talked to Taehyung for a while after he quit but it didn’t last long,” Yoongi said as casually as ever and he looked at you with curious eyes. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you were no longer eating, just using your silverware to play with your food and he knew you well enough to know his answer didn’t satiate your curiosity. He purposely left out any mention of him but maybe that’s what you were looking for? “I haven’t talked to Jungkook since he moved—but last I heard he came back a couple years ago and opened up a store.”

“Store?” You asked, watching your friend’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah, he, y’know he opened a camera store, a couple second hand guitars too,” Yoongi said, “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head no, “When?”

“I don’t know, when he came back? Jin told me he had seen him around but I never talked to him. We didn’t keep in touch when he went back to Busan so I figured it would be weird to want to know what he’s up to now, right?” Yoongi said, unaware of the way you had tuned him out, lost in thought.

Talking about Jungkook to Yoongi felt strange because he knew the two of you in a different way than Somin did. Somin knew Jungkook because of you but you and him worked for Yoongi for two years. It’s like with Taehyung, he met you the same time he met Jungkook but the two grew closer even when you fell out. Your breakup with Jungkook was a bit of a tricky subject and you’ll take the blame for it. Back then you might’ve tried and argued that it was a mutual agreement but now that you’re older you’ll admit you were in the wrong, or maybe the things you said were wrong.

“Y/n,” Yoongi called your name, snapping your out of your state of daydream and caught your attention, “Have you really not spoken to him since the breakup? I don't remember it being that bad.”

You shrugged, “Honestly I can’t remember, a lot happened that I didn’t say and I’m sure he didn’t either so it makes sense.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, “I can tell something is on your mind, why’d you ask who I kept in touch with? Have you been trying to contact Jungkook?”

“No,” you nearly choked on your drink, “No, I just, um, I was just curious.”

Yoongi didn’t press you for more, he could see it on your face that there was more you weren’t telling him but he didn’t want to force you to come out with it. You ended your little lunch date with plans to meet up again and went back to your respective jobs.

It wasn’t until nighttime that you found yourself thinking back to that stupid fucking box that just grabbed your attention everytime you were home. If Jimin had never wanted to play the first tape then maybe you wouldn’t have been so stuck on them but you just can’t help it anymore. They’re all you’ve been able to think about which has led you to think about Jungkook. You have not questioned him or his whereabouts in so long and this sudden interest in how he’s doing is starting to get to you.

When you got home you tried distracting yourself from them. You still had to figure out where to put them if you even want to keep them and although you think you shouldn’t… you can’t just throw them away either. It’s a memory, a cute little memory if you only watch the first few videos and you’ve moved on so they shouldn’t bother you anymore—they don’t bother you anymore. You spent part of your night finishing up a project from work, drinking a glass of wine and listening to Bloodhail by Have a Nice Life, only looking at the box every now and then.

You always preferred working in your living room because it helped you resist the urge to lay in bed but right now you can’t focus on your project and you can’t take it anymore. You took a tape out of the box and put it into Somin’s tape player, turned on the tv and the volume up just a bit as the video began to play.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 2 : THE SKATEPARK┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The sky was dark and you doubted anything could be seen on the camera set up beside you but neither of you seemed to care. The camera had been rolling since the store was open and you had been filming with him since but you never expected Jungkook would ask you out. Could you call this a date?

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was calm and collected over the loud rock music that played in the skate park, “I’ll pull, all you have to do is try and balance.”

“I am trying,” you took a deep breath staring down at the skateboard underneath your worn out converse, “Just give me a second, alright?”

Jungkook just smiled, he took a cautious step back when you released his hands and he picked up his camera trying to make sure you were in view. Things have begun to change between you two drastically. Sure, you always did a back and forth flirting at work but lately it feels a bit more than that. You’ve been messaging every night talking about random things, sometimes talking about more meaningful things. Whenever he was near you his touch always seemed to linger and now he’s asked you out tonight—nothing serious… just feeling it out.

“Okay, okay, wait I think I got it,” you waved a hand excitedly as you called him back over. He didn’t hesitate to take your hand in his free one and aimed the camera down at your feet. He began to pull you forward, feeling your fingers lock with his when you nearly lost balance.

Jungkook was walking backwards as he helped you skate across the cement, not watching where he was going until he bumped into a ramp nearly yanking you off the board. The camera fumbled in his hand as he tried to save you instead and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady. You clung to his arm, heart racing from the near fall and yet you couldn’t help but laugh as you fumbled to keep the camera safe. Since you met him you realize he had a strong tie with his camcorder and got used to his need to always be recording, you found it cute so you didn’t want something to happen to it.

He was hesitant to let you go even when you stood up comfortably, tucking your hair behind your pierced ears and biting your lip, “I need a break.”

Jungkook didn’t question it as he followed you to sit down on a grassy hill just outside the cement confines of the skatepark. He reached into his black Jansport backpack and took out a bottled water to hand to you. You smiled, taking it with a thank you and asked, “So do you come here every night you close?”

“Sometimes,” Jungkook shrugged, watching you tip your head back to drink from his water bottle, a small droplet slipping down your chin that had him reaching out a thumb to wipe, “Helps clear my head.”

“That’s nice,” you said softly thanking him, cheeks flush red, handing him back the water and watching him take a drink next, “Is that why you’re always recording too?”

Jungkook looked down at his silver camcorder that sat in the middle on the grass, “I don’t know, I find it relaxing but at the same time… it makes me anxious? I want to capture everything I experience on video because I’m scared that one day I’m not going to remember any of this. Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out on the moment itself but then I think about right now an—no, nevermind.”

Your brows furrowed as he stared down at the people skating, eyes narrowing as he listened to the next song someone played. It was late and that definitely wasn’t a skating song but it was one of his favorites and he had to say it, “I like this song.”

Bloodhail played somewhere off in the distance and he softly hummed to the beat but you were too focused on what he never finished saying instead, “What were you going to say?”

Jungkook played with his lip ring, the beating red light from his camera recording in his peripheral as he shrugged, “It’s nothing.” There was a small pile of loose grass blades he’s pulled from the ground next to him.

He looked at you to see what you had to say but instead you just stayed silent, slightly drawn back from him and he didn’t want that. It’s not like what he was going to say was bad but… the two of you have only ever flirted. What if he said something that pushed you away? But what if he chose not to ever speak up and you got tired of waiting?

The song really was one of his favorites but he’ll admit he used that as a distraction to change the subject but he couldn’t just not answer now.

“I think about what would happen if I didn’t have my camera when I’m with you,” Jungkook confessed, laying on his bed to look up at the stars, “Would I remember everything you said? What jokes I said that made you laugh? Or even the way you looked at me? I wouldn’t want to forget these things.”

All that was heard for a good long moment was the sound of the music and muffled noises from people still around. He felt his stomach tighten, shaking his head in the grass, “Shit, sorry, that probably sounded weird.”

Your eyes met and for a second he forgot where the two of you were or that his camera was still recording at a bad angle, “What will you do when you’re done filming us?”

“Give the tapes to you, maybe keep a couple,” Jungkook answered truthfully, “They’re as much yours as they are mine.”

“But you’re the one always recording,” you told him but he just shrugged.

“Because I like it and I like you and I just want to capture every moment we have,” his words sounded more confident now as he sat up not wanting to beat around the bus anymore, “So, Y/n, will you go out with me?”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

A chill ran down your spine as the song you currently listened to matched the one that had played in a video that was seven or eight years old. As much as you’ve told yourself you’ve changed your music taste has stayed the same and the strange serenity you felt in the beginning with Jungkook never changed either.

Why were you missing him?

It was another late night at the studio, Jungkook spent more time there than at his apartment lately and tonight was no different. Although he did have plans with Taehyung and that blonde he had been telling him about, he’s not sure if he’s interested in actually going. He met her a couple nights ago and Taehyung was right, she’s great, honestly, but something didn’t click right away.

If he met up with Taehyung for this ‘double date’ that might give her the wrong idea and he doesn’t want to hurt her. If he could have her as a friend that would be best. He’s just not ready to give himself to someone when his last break up ended because of something so stupid that he just couldn’t let go.

Jungkook stood outside under a poorly lit street lamp just outside his studio as he smoked a cigarette, taking a small break from photo developing. His studio was located on a quiet street uphill, it had a simple cinderblock look and it wasn’t big but it was somewhat popular. People liked to see his photographs and he would do photoshoots, sell cameras, fix them, he did pretty much anything you could do with a camera. Business might be slow at times but it was peaceful and he made a living wage off doing something that he loved, that’s all he had ever wanted. He was content with where he is now at only 26 and his own business. He didn’t mind being single nor did he care to change that… so he decided he was going to miss out on tonight.

Once he finished his short smoking break, he put the bud out on the floor with his shoe and picked it up to dump in the trash. Just as Jungkook turned back to the door of his studio, he seemed to go still.

For a second he debated rubbing his fists into his eyes in hopes of washing away this mirage but all he managed to do was blink, speechless and frozen. You weren’t better off despite being the reason he was stuck like that and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

It was very obviously Jungkook, there was no mistaking it but it also looked like someone completely different in a sense. The Jungkook you dated always dressed in band tees too small for him, spiked chokers, checkered belts, the full emo scene of the time minus the side swept hair—he preferred the longish curls instead. He had a lip piercing and a belly button piercing but that was it. Now you’re looking at him and you’re seeing a man after six years realizing just how much time had passed. He had a tattoo sleeve and small gages, a lip piercing and he wore overly baggy black clothes. His hair was short and straight but it looked good on him and you can’t believe you’re admitting that to yourself right now.

“Is this JeonStudio?” You asked as calmly as you could but your voice still betrayed you at the end. You avoided his gaze, choosing instead to eye the small building somewhat proudly and awkward too. Coming here was on a whim, you had been out with friends when you got curious and searched him up. Yoongi had told you he owned a shop so it wasn’t hard to find and honestly… you didn’t expect to go in and actually see him. Imagine your surprise when he caught you standing outside slightly tipsy? “I don’t suppose you’re open at this hour.”

Jungkook just looked at you, heart racing and half tempted to smoke another cigarette due to growing anxiety but you seemed so casual and he didn’t want to overreact. It’s been too long anyway, he’s dumbfounded. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before walking to the door, not bothering to look back at you as he held it open for you to go in.

Immediately you winced at the loudness of the rock song that played, ears nearly sore from the volume as you stepped into the dark studio. Korn’s ‘Coming Undone’ played loudly as it reared its end and Jungkook left you alone for a moment to lower it back down, skipping the song in favor of listening to something by Alice In Chains. You’ll like to correct yourself; Jungkook might look slightly different because he’s older—but he still seems like the exact guy you left six years ago.

“So what can I do for you?” Jungkook’s voice sounded deeper, more manly and when he stood behind his glass counter of cameras with his hands leaning against it, silver rings on his tattooed fingers and a slight smell of nicotine, you were brought back to before. He let his gaze travel over you in half surprise and half amazement.

Just seeing you after having you stuck in his head for a couple weeks now was a surprise, but to see how you’ve changed? He was amazed. It’s not that you were a completely different person but… wow you’ve grown. You no longer wore your ripped fishnets or beaten Converse and Dr. Martens. Your hair wasn’t in knots and your makeup wasn’t smudged or messy like you did it in the back of a bus on your way to work.

You looked… you looked good, like a matured version of yourself who wasn’t shy to show small hints at what you used to be like.

“I just…” you trailed off looking around the room, “I heard you had your own shop an—“

“And?” Jungkook asked with a firm expression making you look back at him, “I’ve had it for a couple years now, why the sudden interest, Y/n?”

He acted cold and it was a bit of a surprise and you scolded yourself for thinking that. It’s not like you expected him to be all smiles seeing you again. God, why did you come? It felt like one second you’re leaving your friend’s movie night to go home and next you’re standing outside of his studio as he smokes.

Maybe you’ll just leave before you do anything embarrassing.

Jungkook watched you with a blank expression but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing as he watched you look around. He stood behind the glass case of cameras where the register was at and waited for you to say something.

The changes were subtle but there was no way he could miss them. The biggest was of course your fashion style now, it was different yet he could still pick up hints of how you used to dress. You still preferred black shoes and silver jewelry. Your hair was styled differently now but it still suited you perfectly, you still had your nose pierced and your nails painted.

Something that didn’t change was that familiar sparkle in your eyes when you were curious and right now he could see it as you did a 360 of his studio. He didn’t notice the way his finger began to tap anxiously against the glass waiting to see what you would say about it. He wasn’t looking to impress you or anything but…

“All of these are yours?” You asked as you stepped closer to a portrait on the wall with blue and black hues. Your gaze never shifted away from the portrait so he was forced to give you a verbal response, “Most, some are Taehyung’s.”

At the mention of your old friend you seemed to freeze up a little, “How is he?”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back a scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest, “He’s great, thanks for asking, don’t you want to ask how I am?”

Once again his slight attitude caught you off guard but you weren’t going to let it bring you down, you’ve come this far in your reconciliation. Your eyes narrowed as they met his glare and you rebutted, “I was getting there, jeez.”

This time around it was his turn to be surprised when you rolled your eyes and he hated that the corner of his lips threatened to turn upward in amusement. You finally quit looking at everything but him and turned in his direction like you were finally going to say something only for you to look up in search of the speakers that played a song you remembered he liked. Pink Maggit by Deftones started off slow and quietly but slowly raised volume that Jungkook had to lower it down a little more. He pretended not to notice his ringing phone that buzzed on the counter with Taehyung’s name displayed—probably wondering where he was.

“I don’t know if this holds meaning but I love this place,” you said and a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slipped out.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said with a huff.

“Seriously Jungkook,” you stood in front of the counter now, “It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“It is,” he agreed, studying you and falling silent.

The longer he stayed thinking the harder it became to hold himself back and this time, more gentle and calm, he asked, “Y/n, why are you here?”

His phone lit up once more and he flipped it to face down and waited for you to respond. You were quiet for a moment as you tried gathering your thoughts and in the end you found yourself sitting alone in his studio with him confessing about the tapes.

There was a slight tension in the air that seemed to blur out the background noise of the restaurant’s chaos. He felt it but he pretended like he didn’t as he looked at his menu, not sure what to order or if he was even hungry.

“Yuna thinks you’re not interested,” was one of the first things Taehyung said to him as the two met up for dinner one night. Jungkook had already expected his friend to have something to say about the other night when he ditched their plans because something unexpected happened but… but he hadn’t processed what Taehyung had said until it was too late.

“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly, unaware of the glare Taehyung sent him that had him snapping back into realization, “Oh… Oh! Yuna? Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I mean it’s whatever to me but the two of you were really hitting it off,” Taehyung said with a shrug that had Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Come on, we’ve met once and I was drunk,” Jungkook said, “She’s cute but… I don’t know.”

He ignored the way Taehyung’s eyes seemed to narrow suspiciously, “You don’t know? You seemed to be pretty good talking to her over drinks and now you don’t know? What made you ditch out on me anyway?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Something came up—“

“No!” Taehyung groaned, “Don’t give me that bullshit. What was it?”

There was a slight pause in the conversation as the server came to take their orders but Taehyung just ushered them away to come back later. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, seeming exhausted before saying, “Nothing, honestly, just…”

“Just?”

“Y/n came to the studio.”

Silence filled the space between the two again as Taehyung stared at him dumbfounded. Jungkook couldn’t even think of anything to respond with either so they just sat there feeling the tension grow thicker by the second. After a while, Taehyung released a nervous chuckle and sighed, “Alright, for a second I thought you were being serious. Come up with a better excuse ne—“

“I’m being serious,” Jungkook said and Taehyung was finally able to see the small difference in his friend. His hair was a bit messier and he looked tired but he didn’t look bad he just looked different. “I was working late and you were blowing up my phone to get me to meet up with you guys but there I am smoking a stupid cigarette and she’s standing there like nothing ever happened asking if it’s open!”

“Shit,” Taehyung listened, “So what happened? That’s it? Did you talk? What did you talk about?”

“She asked about you,” Jungkook said with a roll of his eyes, “Then worried about me later but, she still had the tapes.”

“What tapes?”

“The tapes,” Jungkook didn’t care to clarify because his friend should know exactly what he is talking about. It took Taehyung a moment but realization dawned on him and he gasped, “All of the movies you made with her?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said, “I-I had forgotten all about them, honestly but then she comes along telling me she was moving and a friend of hers found them and they made her curious a—fuck, it’s so weird seeing her again.”

“Did Y/n change?” Taehyung asked, watching Jungkook nod his head. Jungkook really did look exhausted like he’s been thinking about this nonstop.

“So much but like… at the same time, it’s still Y/n,” Jungkook said with a small hint of a smile, “She’s still got the same look in her eye and her smile is still the same. I don’t know, we talked about the tapes but that’s really it an—“

“So go talk to her, even if it’s just to catch up,” Taehyung tried saying, half expecting his friend to reject the idea the way he’s rejected anything that had to do with you so to hear that he ditched him because you showed up out of the blue… he wants to know what this means.

In truth, Taehyung cared a lot about you both despite not being friends with you anymore. The three of you met at an impressionable age in your young adult years so it’s hard for him to act like he didn’t care about you two. You would hang out at the skatepark, record stupid videos, do stupid things at work, and you had been one of his best friends. To even hear that you asked about him made him feel good because there’s been so many times when he’s debated just picking up the phone and calling you but never brought himself to do it.

“You think I should talk to Y/n?” Jungkook asked as the server came back once more to ask if they were ready yet but once again Taehyung asked for another minute. He nodded his head, “I think… the two of you didn’t end terribly and if she came to find you then it wouldn’t hurt to talk. I know that it’s been six years and you don’t care anymore [ you’ve said that so many times now ] but personally I would want to see the tapes.”

Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously under the table as he gnawed on his lip ring in thought. “So I should see Y/n?”

“I think so,” Taehyung said with a small smirk, “Or do you really not care because it’s been six years?”

There was a mocking undertone in his voice that Jungkook chose to ignore as he suddenly rose to his feet making his decision abrupt. Taehyung didn’t even bother stopping him as he left him behind in the restaurant, he just found it amusing. When the server came back to check if they were still not ready, Taehyung apologized for wasting their time and left them a tip before leaving too.

It has been six years, that thought hasn’t slipped Jungkook’s mind yet but that’s why he’s so confused. It’s been so long and you dumped him so for you to reach back out to him suddenly telling him you still have the tapes… don’t you realize how that can mess with his head? He’s over you, you’re over him so why would you do that? He has to know and that’s why he called the number you gave him the other night and asked to meet up.

When he got to your apartment building he was a bit taken back by the size of it. Compared to the small shoebox the two of you lived together in once upon a time, this was big and spacious. The inside was honestly what he expected. There was a record player in the corner with some old vinyls he knew you had: Deftones’ Around the Fur, Nirvana’s In Utero, Flyleaf’s Flyleaf, etc. You had a couple dead houseplants in various shades of dark green but no flowers, you seemed to still like the color black and you liked your bands and horror movies. On your coffee table was an arrangement of magazines all from the same publication and a drawing board next to it.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked from the kitchen, nervous to see him looking around so curiously. It was strange to have him here at your new place after claiming you were leaving the past in the past. Clearly that had been a lie because you’re the reason he’s here right now, you’re the one who reached out to him so you have no right to feel weird about him calling you tonight.

“Just water,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as his eyes casted down on the rundown box that he had been trying oh-so-desperately to avoid. It was shut but not well and the tape player laid next to it connected to the TV. He was itching to go through the tapes but he was also scared of what he would find on them.

Instead, he walked over to your record player looking through the various vinyls to see if he could play one. You’ve had the same player for years, it’s one he bought with you so he was well used to it and for some reason, he didn’t hesitate to go to it and play something himself like he used to. He chose a Deftones album and ‘Sextape’ began to play just in time for you to come to him with a glass of water looking at him curiously.

“Sorry,” Jungkook said once he realized he had subconsciously done what he used to do anytime he came over to your place, “Force of habit?”

It was stupid that a habit he had six years ago was coming back to him but for some reason seeing you again was making him realize how much the two of you used to love each other. He doesn’t think he has feelings for you still but he did miss you and he’ll never deny that.

Okay, false, he denied it all the time to Taehyung but that was then. He thought he would never see you again and if he did it was just in passing and that you would barely acknowledge him but that’s not what happened and he couldn’t help but miss you. If only he knew you felt the same but he always struggled to read you.

“It’s alright,” you said, moving to sit on the couch with his glass on the table letting him come join you. He sat down with a foot or two of space in between and looked around making you smile. You didn’t mean to smile but he just seemed so curious and intrigued by everything in here and as he looked around you looked at him.

God, he looked different. Last time you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos but right now you’re taking them all in with interest. Back then he would go on and on about all the tattoos he would get and now that he has them, you’ll admit he looks so good. He seemed to be doing so well for himself and that made you feel happy to see him doing what he always wanted to do. The confidence just radiated off him when before he was always a bit more insecure.

Not even just in his future plans but his looks too and now you’re noticing how buff he’s gotten. His arms and shoulders were huge and he looked intimidating, you’re sure if the 18 year old Jungkook saw what he looked like now, he wouldn’t believe it.

“How many have you watched?” Jungkook finally asked in regards of the tapes and for a second you forgot that’s why he came and it wasn’t just to catch up.

“A few, not all of them though,” you confessed looking at the box, “Some are hard to watch.”

He didn’t need you to elaborate to know what you were talking about. Toward the end of your relationship, there wasn’t a time Jungkook wasn’t recording you too and unfortunately that meant he caught a few rough moments on video. He developed them on tapes because he didn’t want to waste them and when he had given them to you he was mad and wanted to be petty so he gave them all but now he wishes he didn’t.

He realizes now that he’s not mad about the past. You dumped him because you were going to school and Jungkook wanted to go back to Busan with no real plan for his future. You worked so well together but it was so obvious that you reached a point where you wanted different things and you’re the one who had the guts to end it. Of course at the time it destroyed him but now that he’s grown from it, he can’t be mad anymore.

“Do you want me to play one?” You asked once he fell silent for too long. Jungkook bit his lip nervously before nodding his head shyly. You left his side to go set everything up and he just watched you feeling anxious. He hasn’t seen these tapes in six years and he’s not sure what to expect.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 21: THE ARGUMENT ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video started with a view of a snake terrarium in your old bedroom. It belonged to Jungkook but when he moved in with you, he brought it with and it stayed. It was red and warm with a small snake hiding in its cave but it was pretty and the two of you used to pass time staring at it with curiosity. There was a soft rock song playing in the background but it was muffled by your voices.

In truth, Jungkook had forgotten he was recording.

“So you’re going back to Busan?” Your voice was a bit groggy and low like you were scared to raise your voice too much. It was late and the two of you had spent most of your time at some manga store after work and have just now gotten home. You’ve been quiet since you had dinner and this is the first thing you’ve said to him since.

Jungkook was in a small Korn band tee that didn’t cover his full waist and showed a bit of his belly button piercing but he never really cared how his clothes fit him. His black jeans were always baggy and torn and his beanies always flattened his hair. He used to have a certain look that drew everyone’s attention even when he didn’t want it.

“Come with me,” Jungkook said in his deep tone, “I know it’s sudden, Y/n, but I don’t want to leave you, I don’t care if it’s not that far.”

“So why leave at all?” You asked, sitting down on bed avoiding his gaze, “You can do whatever you want here, why do you want to go back?”

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment as he thought about it, “I don’t know, I don’t feel at home.”

You didn’t say anything as you sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall to avoid looking at him. He hasn’t forgotten that you haven’t answered him yet, “Come with me.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted after some time contemplating, “What would we do?”

“We can stay with my brother for a while, find a job and start working,” Jungkook offered excitedly as he dropped down to his knees in front of you, making sure your attention was on him and not the ground, “We’ll find a place together.”

“What about school?” You asked. You’ve got about a year left, if that, and you can’t just move somewhere else and register all over again. You’ve got internships lined up and the right connections here. You have plans.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “You can transfer, it’s not hard, right? Just think about it Y/n, just you and me. We don’t have to worry about your family or anything else.”

“I can’t.”

For a second he wondered if you said anything at all because it was so quiet but when you looked up at him apologetically, he asked, “Why not?”

“I can’t just pick up everything and leave with you Jungkook,” you told him, slightly bothered by the fact that he didn’t understand that, “I’ve got plans that don’t involve me moving to Busan with a boy I’ve dated for a little over a year and who I probably won’t even be with for long.”

“What?” His face hardened as he listened to you, “You don’t want to be with me?”

“I didn’t say that,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it, I just…”

“Just what, Y/n? Because last night we were talking about spending forever together and now you’re saying we won’t be together for long?” Jungkook said with a scoff as he stood up, his camera completely pushed to the back of his mind.

You ran your hand over your face with worry, “That was before you told me you want to move back to Busan,” you said honestly, “I don’t want to go anywhere, if you want to go and start over somewhere else then do it but you can’t just ask me to change everything I’ve had planned just so I could follow you. You don’t even have a real plan to go back. It might not feel like home to you here, Jungkook, but it does for me and it’s not fair that you can just ask me to pack up and leave when we’ve got nothing going on.”

“We have each other,” Jungkook’s voice was softer because he sounded hurt, “Isn't that enough?”

“For you, maybe, but not for me,” you argued coldly, “I can’t change my life for you.”

Jungkook stood there seemingly frozen as you got up from the bed, pushing past him and locking yourself in the bathroom away from him. He wasn’t sure what to think right now other than this was the first argument the two of you have ever had. It was an argument, right?

What even happened? You had spent such an amazing day together, he picked you up after your last class and you went out to eat. You went to a park where he played a song for you on the guitar you bought him and the two of you had been laughing all day. It felt so sweet until the moment he mentioned Busan and suddenly you had grown distant.

Suddenly you were saying the two of you wouldn’t last, is that true?

“Y/n?” You could hear Jungkook call for you with a small knock on the door, “Babe, can we talk?”

“I don’t want to,” you sniffled, “I just want to be alone right now.”

Jungkook pulled away from the door feeling dejected and blown off. He ran his fingers through his messy hair anxiously and looked around your shared bedroom for his things. He’ll just give you time to yourself and maybe later you could think things through again.

As he looked for his phone and keys, his eyes landed on the camcorder that captured the moment his snake left its cafe to curl up against a small log. He picked the camera up curiously, eyes widening as he saw it was recording.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

Jungkook sat there as still as ever, staring at the screen with glossy eyes as he watched the frozen image of himself pick up his camera—realizing he left it on. He looked down at his glass of water, feeling his throat become dry as he brought it to his lips, hand shaking.

Although it was six years ago and he had not thought about it once… seeing this video just brought him back to that day. It wasn’t the only argument the two of you had but he must’ve learned his lesson and kept the camera off. Later on the two of you argued and you said some hurtful things to him that you later apologized for but it didn’t make him feel any different.

That was the moment he realized maybe the relationship really would not have lasted long.

“Jungkook,” your voice was so soft now, slightly deeper and more mature but anytime you said his name it made his head spin nonetheless like he still couldn’t believe it.

When he looked up at you, you’re not sure what you had expected but it definitely wasn’t the sight of his reddened eyes as he took jagged breaths trying to calm his racing heart.

It’s just… back then he had been struck with such limerence that all he could think about was the two of you together anyway it could be. Sometimes it didn’t even matter if you weren’t sexually intimate, just knowing someone loved him and wanted him was enough and when you broke up with him… it hurt. It hurt really fucking bad and this video reminded him a bit of how that felt.

“I kept some tapes too,” he finally admitted, clearing his throat and changing the subject in hopes that you wouldn’t see how he was feeling. He circled the rim of his glass with his index finger as he looked down at his lap to avoid your soft gaze. A smile came to his face as he scoffed, “Um, this is kinda embarrassing to admit but… the last person I dated dumped me because I wouldn’t throw them away.”

“Because of the memories?” You asked quietly and he nodded. That’s how Jungkook was, once he told you how he never wanted to forget anything no matter how it made him feel and in this case he wanted to remember you no matter what happened and in a sense you had been the same. You wanted to keep the tapes because being with him had felt like home to you and you never wanted to leave it behind even if you said you were over it.

Watching them again was making you realize how much you needed Jungkook at the time and how much he had needed you. Maybe you still need him and it took you this long to admit that, knowing he couldn’t let you go either was like a slap in the face after the things you said to him.

The amount of times you argued that you had a future planned that didn’t need him in it only because you were heading toward different directions in life. Where Jungkook was more laidback, you were uptight and that had not been a good mix then. You told him you couldn’t just sit around in Busan and only have what the two of you had to rely on because one day he might decide he doesn’t need you anymore and throw you away after you changed your life for him. In the end, things happened in reverse and you wish you could just take it all back.

“Y/n—“

Jungkook went quiet as the soft buzz of a phone ringing cut him off and he was thankful. He didn’t even know what he planned on telling you and that scared him. Would he tell you that he missed you or that he thinks it would be best to never speak again?

You both looked down at your phone screen as it sat on the coffee table with a picture of you and Jimin smiling happily as he called. Your gaze shifted to Jungkook, “What were you going to say?”

The call came to an end and your attention was on him but he didn’t want to speak anymore and before he could tell you it didn’t matter, this stranger called again. He cleared his throat, “Um, you should answer that, it’s late anyway and we’ve both got work tomorrow. If you ever want to talk again… maybe we can, you have my number but I should go.

Your brows furrowed, shaking your head no as he set the glass down next to your ringing phone and stood up suddenly, “Jungkook, wai—“

He didn’t stop till he was out the door running his fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted and unsure of himself.

Watching that video reminded him that the two of you broke up for a reason and it had been valid at the time. It has been the right decision too even if it hurt and although it felt like a ‘Right Person Wrong Time’ moment, there’s nothing to do now and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.

He’s moved on.

Just as you debated following him out, your phone rang once more and with a dejected sigh, you answered, “What do you want?!”

“Whoa, chill on the attitude I’ve been trying to get you to answer because I have a serious question,” Jimin said on the other end of the line. Your face softened as you grew curious and worried “What is it?”

“Am I a gold or silver jewelry type of guy?” Jimin asked as he held up two matching bracelets in thought. You went quiet on your end and he raised a curious brow only to wince at the second your voice rose a couple octaves.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You groaned, throwing yourself back on your couch annoyed that Jungkook left in such a hurry because Jimin had been blowing up your phone.

“Dead serious.”

Click.

“Hello?” Jimin spoke to himself hearing the line end, “Did you hang up on me?”

The end of the week came quicker than you had expected and yet time felt to slow down for you too. Ever since Jungkook came to your apartment and watched that video with you, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The look in his eyes had captured your attention more than the video had but when he left without finishing what he was going to say… that’s when you got caught up. He used to always do that to you, he would start to say something and then try and push it away so he should know by now that you would think about it.

You just can’t help but wonder what he was going to say and it’s been eating at you for days.

“Y/n, can you pretend to listen to me?” Jimin asked as he bumped his wine glass again at yours to get your attention.

“What?” You asked looking up at your two friends who stared at you with confusion, “Sorry.”

Somin’s brows furrowed, “What’s up with you? You haven’t even touched your food.”

Your plate sat there barely eaten while theirs had been cleared out. You seemed to have forgotten where you were and it wasn’t until now that you looked around to see the three of you were still sitting in a dimly lit booth having an extremely late dinner on a Saturday night.

“Nothing, I’ve just been… y'know,” you shrugged, lifting up your silverware in hopes of finding the motivation to finish your meal. You bit your lip anxiously, your friends watching you made you nervous and it was very apparent. You haven’t told them about seeing Jungkook again but you’re not sure what they would make of it and that’s the only thing that has stopped you. You’re not sure what you even make of it, much less what they would think but you’re starting to realize maybe you need a second opinion.

“I met with Jungkook,” you finally said and despite the loudness of the restaurant, your table seemed to fall silent as they both looked at you.

“When?”

“Well, the first time, a couple weeks ago,” you said honestly, “The last time… two nights ago.”

They shared a look with each other that you had no desire to learn the meaning of before Jimin asked, “This is the ex boyfriend, right? The VCR tapes boyfriend?”

“That’s the one,” you said awkwardly, “We watched a tape the other night, it wasn’t a good one but… I don’t know.”

“You mean you invited him over?” Somin asked, making you shake your head no and she continued, “He just showed up? So did he find you first?”

“Nope, I looked for him,” you told them, hiding your face in your hands, “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” Jimin asked, “Did you two argue?”

“No,” you told him, “No, we didn’t… it’s just…”

“It’s just now you can’t stop thinking about him,” Somin said instead of asked and you nodded your head yes. She released a sigh, “It’s been six years, Y/n.”

“I know,” you groaned letting your head fall into your hands further, “That’s why I’m so confused.”

“But was he mad or anything?” Jimin asked.

“No.”

“Then why don’t you try and talk to him?” He went on making you look at him.

“And tell him what?”

“That maybe you should start over—“

“No!” Somin said, “No, it’s been too long. Do you honestly think Jungkook would want that? All they did was talk, it just doesn’t make sense. It’s not like he's been waiting six years to hear from Y/n.”

You had to agree with her, you have no idea what Jungkook thinks about all this if he even does.

Not far from where you were with your friends was a packed street filled with nightlife and club goers all getting into their Saturday night and he was amongst them. He rarely chooses to come out for drinks and loud music unless it’s with his friends and this time was no different. After spending the past forty eight hours practically shut in his shop, Taehyung finally got him to come out to meet with the girls from last time.

Although he had sworn off meeting with Yuna again so he wouldn’t lead her on… he found himself doing it anyway. He just needed a distraction, you’re all he’s been able to think about and it wasn’t good for him. He couldn’t think about you like this.

You were his ex-girlfriend from so long ago and though meeting with you reminded him little by little of how well you used to be together… he can’t get over the fact that you left him. You left him when he needed you and that should have been the end of it. That had been the end of it. He had gone to Busan and you went your own way, when he came back to Seoul he only thought about you every now and then like when Taehyung would bring you up… or when he would remember the tapes… or listen to Deftones… or look at the guitar you gave him…

Maybe he did think about you frequently but not as frequent as this and he didn’t like it. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first saw you standing under a street lamp not far from him asking if his studio was open. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first ever met you too and it’s not fair that after you left him you get to come back and try to reconcile as friends.

“Want a smoke?” Taehyung asked his friend after he realized Jungkook had gone quiet for too long even when Yuna tried to ask him things. He didn’t give a verbal response, only nodded his head and began walking out of the packed club in hopes of more room to breathe.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to reach into his pack of cigarettes and hand one to Jungkook watching his friend take it gladly and search his pockets for a lighter. He lit the end and did the same for Taehyung, looking up at the sky and attempting to tune out the loudness of the club behind him.

“So what’s up?” Taehyung asked, “You agreed to come out tonight but you seem out of it. Yuna’s been asking you questions nonstop and you’ve barely batted an eye at her.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook took a drag of the cigarette, blowing it out shortly after with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll tell her I’m not feeling good or something.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything for a moment as he studied his best friend, finally asking, “Did you end up seeing Y/n?”

When Jungkook didn’t immediately react, Taehyung knew the answer. He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and asked, “The night we had dinner?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “She didn’t ask about you this time, sorry.”

Taehyung just shrugged, knowing his friend was trying to lighten the growing tension but he didn’t care. He asked, “So then what did you talk about?”

“Not much,” Jungkook cleared his throat, a cloud of smoke covering his vision for a moment as he moved to the side to let a group of drunks through, “We watched one of the tapes though.”

“Which one?”

“It was an argument. I think it was when I first brought up Busan,” Jungkook admitted, kicking a rock with the tip of his black combat boot.

Taehyung nodded understandingly, “That’s it?”

“Pretty much, I left because some guy kept calling her,” Jungkook said, “I wasn’t sure if it was her boyfriend or not.”

Taehyung released a scoff, “You couldn’t have asked?”

“Why would it matter to me if it was?” Jungkook asked, “We’re exes for a reason, right?”

“And what was the reason, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with a slightly harsher tone at his friend’s nonchalance, “Because you wanted her to follow you somewhere new and she didn’t want to. You’re back now, there’s no reason to not talk anymore so why didn’t you ask?”

“It won’t change anything,” Jungkook argued, annoyed by his friend’s need to always make him think about you when he didn’t want to, “So why bother?”

“Because it’s Y/n!” Taehyung said, “I get it, I really do. It’s been so long since you dated and it might not mean shit now but it did then and that’s never going to change no matter how hard you try and lie to yourself about it. And if it really didn’t matter anymore then you wouldn’t be out here tonight trying to forget seeing her again.”

“I went to see her because you told me to,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.

“No,” Taehyung scoffed, “You went to see her because you wanted to, I just gave you the final push.”

“Nothing’s going to change thinking about her,” Jungkook said, “She’s a new person, so am I.”

“But on the inside you’re both still those same kids who ran away from home only to find it in each other again,” Taehyung said with a softer tone, “Come on man, I hate this sappy shit but open your eyes and realize that your home has always been with Y/n, that’s why you came back.”

“You’re wrong,” Jungkook glared at the ground, a lump forming in his throat, “She dumped me, she didn’t need me—“

“That’s not true and you know it, you grew apart because you wanted different things at the time but what about now?” Taehyung asked, “Y/n looked for you—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you mad talking about it but Yoongi called me a few weeks back—right before you told me she went to the studio. Who do you think told her you were back?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he watched his cigarette burn on its own. He remembers when you went and you talked about the tapes but he didn’t have the courage to ask how you knew where he worked or that he had moved back. He should have asked but did it matter?

The muffled sound of music and chatter blurred out the silence that had grown between the two friends and Taehyung knew Jungkook had nothing to say. When a phone began to ring and the chest pocket of Jungkook’s black plaid flannel lit up with the outline of a screen and Taehyung didn’t have to ask to know who that might be. He dropped his cigarette on the floor to put it out with his shoe before placing an encouraging hand on his friend’s shoulder and leaving him outside alone.

For a moment Jungkook debated following him back into the dark nightclub and pretending like he was having the time of his life with Yuna but he knew he wouldn’t. He reached into his pocket and answered the call without another wasted second of hesitation, “Hello?”

“Jungkook, hey?” Your voice sounded a bit hoarse and he could hear noise behind you, “Are you, um, bu—do you have a moment?”

Jungkook looked up at the moon, taking a deep breath coming to terms with the fact that he’s afraid to open himself up to you again even if it’s just as acquaintances, “I’m not busy.”

“Really?” You asked slightly surprised, “Well, I—I was wondering if maybe you… um… maybe you wanted to meet me somewhere? O-or if, y’know you’re home… maybe I could come over to talk about us? My friend interrupted us last time and I feel like a lot of things went unsaid.”

You mentally cringed at yourself for sounding so nervous but what else was there to be expected? If you didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt now then maybe it’ll be another six years before you get to do it again—or worse, you won’t get another chance.

Jungkook looked around for the street sign as if he could imagine the distance he is from your place, “Where are you?”

Your heart seemed to raise, “I’m out with friends downtown but I can leave right no—“

“Where downtown?” He asked, walking just a bit away from the club entrance, listening to you tell him the street, “I’m a couple blocks down from there, at Club X.”

“Club X?” You asked and for a moment he debated telling you he was just with Taehyung but you quickly said, “Don’t move, I’ll walk.”

“Y/n, wai—“

Click.

Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair nervously, looking around once more knowing he should just stay put but you told him where you were too and the thought of just standing here waiting for you to arrive didn’t sit well with him. It would be too long of a wait and if he waits any longer he’s scared he’ll back out from wanting to see you too… so he ran.

You left your friends without much thought to how they felt about it, you paid your bill and left them just like that, practically running out the door. Before Jungkook could reject your proposal you hung up on him and that meant that if he didn’t want to see you then he would be leaving soon and you had to get to him before he did. You just needed to be honest.

Your feet ached from the heels you wore but that didn’t stop you from running down the uneven sidewalk, bumping into people on your way and checking for traffic whenever you crossed a street.

You wanted to be with him again, or at least try to be even if it was just as friends. It didn’t even have to be romantically [even if all the romantic feelings you had for him came back], you’ll take whatever he gives you as long as you know that he might feel the same. That’s all you want to know, that he might feel the same so you ran to him.

Jungkook was out of breath but he moved at a quicker pace than you did, running so fast he nearly dropped the person that bumped into him but he caught them before they could fall and held them by the arm, “Sorry.”

You stopped, tightening your hold on his forearm in shock, “Jungkook?”

He nearly stumbled as he froze on the spot, looking down at the person he bumped into on his way to you and his heart raced, “Y/n.”

“Jungkook, I—I told you to wait,” you stuttered as the two of you stood there at the end of a crosswalk ignoring all the people that passed you, “I—it’s about us, I wanted to see you—“

“Y/n,” he repeated your name, eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might regret asking to meet him but he found none. Before he could stop himself, his hands had made their way to your jaw, pulling you closer and it was all you needed to see to throw your arms around his neck and drag him down to meet your lips with his.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to kiss you back with as much need and desire as you had and let his eyes shut, relishing in the feel of your soft lips that he had forgotten the taste of. The small kiss had been everything he missed, so soft and tender yet there was no mistaking the intense longing in each languid movement of your tongue with his that he nearly forgot where the two of you were till a car was honking annoyingly at the public display of affection—egging it on.

You pulled back with a pant, trying to catch your breath as your eyes ran along his face trying to understand his expression, hands sliding down to his ribs unsure if you should hold him or not. There was a lot you wanted to say but right now you wanted to feel him like this more, “Where?”

Jungkook bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose as he slid his hand into yours and pulled you toward the street raising a hand to call a cab, “Mine.”

He was also aware that the two of you needed to talk and he planned on doing that but first… first he just needed to have you in his arms again. He just needed to feel you want him back one more time before the weight of whatever the two of you talked about came crashing down and there was no going back. It’s been six years of not being with you, you would think any ounce of romantic attraction would be gone and yet every time he remembered you or thought about you, it hit him harder than before and he spent the cab ride kissing you like he would never get the chance again—and he might not.

When you got to his house, you didn’t get a chance to look around when Jungkook was dragging you back into his arms, kicking the front door shut and kissing you.

“We’ll talk after,” you said more to yourself than to him when he yanked off his unbuttoned flannel, walking you backwards down a hall.

“After,” Jungkook repeated, breathless as he pulled away to kiss down your neck, placing soft kisses along your jaw and down your jugular. You craned yourself back to give him more room and dunk your fingers into his short black hair. He let his hands roam down your body, memorizing the feel of you under his fingertips once more and gripping your sides as you released a small gasp when the back of your knees hit a bed and you were falling back. His hands went to your back feeling along the material of your short black dress he hadn’t had a chance to admire and gently touched your ass, making you breathless before you felt his fingers slip under the hem further to feel along your spine, pulling the dress up until you were taking it off.

“It’s been so long,” he whispered softly between small kisses along your shoulder blade, letting you fall back on the bed in nothing but your underwear and bra. He sat back on his knees, staring down at you with glossy eyes. God, he missed you so much. He missed everything about you from your body to the way you used to softly run your fingers through his hair.

Six years.

Six years without seeing you laying down underneath him sliding a finger between the valley of your breasts teasingly, reaching behind you to take it off. He watched, nearly hypnotized by the way you slowly revealed all of yourself to him, saying, “Too long, I’ve almost forgotten how you feel.”

Jungkook licked his lips looking down at your bare chest, sinking down to lower his head until his nose lightly brushed against your soft skin making you wither just a little.

“I’ll fix that,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours and pressing a light kiss on your exposed breast, warm breath tickling you and making you bite your lip with anticipation.

“I want to see you,” your voice was as soft as his had been and he couldn’t help but sigh in content, nodding his head and pulling back to undress. He yanked off the black t-shirt he had worn under his flannel and kicked off his black denim jeans throwing them off somewhere on the floor near his snake terrarium that produced a red light—a huge contrast to the blue hue of light the rest of his apartment showed. When he sat bare between your parted legs you took in the sight of him.

His tattoos danced across his skin with every flex of his arms and it was all so new to you that you wanted to memorize it all. You reached your hands out hesitant to touch him, and heard a quiet gasp come from between his lips when your hands ran over his chest feeling every ridge of abdomen muscle, until you touched the top ball of his belly button piercing—surprised he still had it. His muscles tightened, feeling your fingertip slide back up until you were tracing the patterns of ink on his arm and shoulder.

"Y/n," Jungkook said your name with such tenderness that you stopped and looked up immediately, watching him hover over you and lower his mouth to the expanse of your neck sucking on your skin lightly. You bit your lip with want feeling his kisses moving lower, kissing along your collarbone. You ran your hands along his back when his tongue licked down to the valley of your breasts, tracing circles around your hardened nipple teasingly, bringing one into his mouth and sucking gently. The tip of his tongue flicked at your bud before capturing the whole thing in his mouth and licking the end, hands running along your sides to keep your body in place.

He kept this up for some time that all you could do was lay there and attempt to catch your breath as he memorized himself with your body again. It wasn’t just your breasts that got attention, he kissed your ribs and stomach, down your arms and along your neck. When he kissed along your navel toward your pelvis, his rough fingertips played with the hem of your panties until you were lifting your hips enough for him to slip them off you, leaving you just as nude as he.

“I missed this,” he said hoarsely, hands sliding down your inner thighs until he was slowly pulling them apart and fixing himself comfortably between them, “I don’t think you realize how much.”

He didn’t even realize how much he had missed—he didn’t allow himself to and now that he’s done it, it’s all he could focus on.

“I missed you too,” your tone was soft yet he could feel the emotion through it and it made him pause for a moment, debating if this was a confession or not and if he should stop so the two of you could talk.

He hadn't even touched you in the place you needed him most and yet you were on edge already. It’s not like you had expected to even kiss—much less this—that you found yourself already aroused but it felt so good to have him touch you again. After so much time apart, your body still reacted to him the way it used to and part of that scared you to admit.

"Jungkook," you licked your lips when his hair tickled against your cunt meaning he was getting closer. He hummed in response. Your voice was dry as you asked, "Condom?" It took him a second to pull away looking you in the eye as he sat back. Realization hit him like a truck as he stared down at your naked body then his, painfully aware of his hardened member and how quickly you had made him like this with only some kissing and teasing. He shook his head, "I don't—"

You sat up enough to pull him down and kiss him again, wanting nothing more but for this to continue whether you had a condom or not. “I don’t care, if you don’t.”

It didn’t take him long to understand what you meant and with the way your tongue kissed his, he couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to. Before, he used to take his time with you, making sure he satisfied all your needs with his tongue or fingers—whatever you wanted and he had subconsciously decided to do that tonight too. The only difference is that it’s been too long to take his time, he needed you now.

Your eyes ran over his body, still in disbelief with the sight of him above you, watching his hand slide down his toned stomach to his aching member. He stroked the tip of his cock softly, in search of some release as he let you take all the time you needed to watch him. The room was quiet aside from your heavy panting and buzz of his heat lamp but it still felt so loud. Your blood rushed to your ears, realizing what the two of you were doing and for a moment you wondered if this was a good idea but it didn’t take long for you to realize you didn’t care either way. You could worry about the repercussions later.

Jungkook leaned down between your parted thighs until his lips brushed against yours and his hard cock pressed against your wet heat, “You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart dropped at his tender words, breath hitching in your throat and letting your hands touch against his arms, “Even after so long?”

There was a soft sound of a cricket not far outside the window and when he whispered, “Everlong,” to you, you had to stop and stare into his eyes in search of something to say. It was a small ode to Foo Fighters’ song ‘Everlong’ and how no matter how much time you spent apart, he would forever feel this way about you.

The red heat lamp did little to light the room along the moon but he still saw the way your eyes seemed to water, feeling your hands brush against his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

He seemed to freeze even as his cock aligned with your folds, coated in your arousal and all he needed was one push of his hips to feel you once more and yet he stopped, “Sorry?”

Did you want to stop?

Did you realize that this might not be the best idea?

Had he said something that made you want to leave?

“I was scared,” you admitted suddenly, “We wanted different things and I was scared that you would realize that after it was too late and you would just throw me away.”

He resisted the urge to scoff, bringing a hand up to push your hair out of your face and onto the pillow, “You know I never would have, baby.”

The pet name slipped out without his intention, “I never loved anyone as much as I loved you.”

It didn’t slip by either of you his use of past tense but you understood what he meant and you hated that you couldn’t before. It’s crazy how a silly little friendship between two coworkers who like the same music and style had developed so far out into the future that when your relationship ended, you couldn’t ever fully move on.

“I want to feel you,” you whispered, your nose brushing against his as he dropped his head to look down at the small space between your bodies. Jungkook was gentle in finding your entrance with the tip of his cock, guiding himself between your folds until you released a gasp at the stretch. Although it hurt for a moment, it didn’t take your body long to get used to him—like it had been waiting to feel him all this time and your mouths drew open in silent gasps when he bottomed out waiting there for the stretching. Even without foreplay your bodies seemed to know exactly what they needed to do and you hugged him, releasing a small moan in his ear as he dropped his head against your neck. Jungkook felt his heart race as you clung to him, letting him get used to feeling your walls around his dick once more and for a second it felt like too much, “Oh fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you so much,” you confessed with a sigh when he drew his hips back slightly before bringing them forward in a single thrust as if testing the waters first, “So much, Jungkook.”

What’s crazy is how you had been so unaware of it as if some of the things you did weren’t constant reminders of him that you had to force yourself to forget. You still wore beanies because of him, you listened to fucking Korn because of him, you still slept on the right side because he liked the left—even when past partners would argue that they liked that side too, you never changed it. You had craved him in every aspect of your life even when you had forgotten it… that’s why you kept the tapes.

You let out a moan from his slow thrusts, in and out, in and out, dragging his cock out slowly as if letting you remember what it felt like to have him inside of you against and it had your legs moving to wrap around his waist. You grip his shoulders tightly moving your hips in rhythm with his, it was a slow and sensual yet rough fucking that had you begging, “Jungkook, more."

He rose his head from your neck, hips thrusting his thick cock into your wet pussy, doing exactly what you wanted.

He licked the corner of your mouth as you watched his hips draw back before pushing forward harshly, “I wanted to stop thinking about you, baby, but I couldn’t.”

You heard him clearly and you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant, you simply ran your hands down his toned, muscular back guiding him to fuck you harder as he went on, “Even when I thought I hated you, I couldn’t let you go.”

The two of you were supposed to talk after and yet he he was losing his rhythm and talking to you while passionately and aggressively fucking you. “I’m sorry,” you repeated with a soft moan, “I should have never left you.” You kiss him for a moment before he moves down and leaves a bite on your chest making you whine out from it and he moves his hands down to your hips, gripping tightly as he fucked you harder, “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”

" Jungkook," you moaned again, clinging to him, feeling your climax close, "I still love you."

He seemed to come to a halt at your sudden confession and you nearly pushed him away, surprised by yourself and your impulsiveness but he only pressed his body harder against yours.

"I love you so fucking much," he growled into your chest as he began to pound into you. The room filled with a string of moans as he fucked you unlike he ever had before, completely different yet still as passionate as he used to and moaned into your ear, “So close.”

“Ngh,” you gasped, “You feel so good, I think I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in content, clinging to you as much as possible, “Please, Y/n, I need to feel it, one more time baby, it’s been so long since you came for me.”

His thumb had slid down your body until it found your clit which had hardened with arousal and he rubbed light patterns around it, feeling your walls twitch and it became harder for him to drag his cock back out with the way you tightened.

“I’m going to cum,” he admitted, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs urging you to let him go but your legs held him in place and he realized what you wanted—he wanted it too. He didn’t want to pull away from you for even a second and as your walls convulsed around him with release, he couldn’t help but let go with a moan.

He held your body to his panting heavily as your sweat covered bodies clung to each other desparatelt, both letting your orgasms ride their wave before pulling apart.

It took him a moment to gather enough strength to pull out, doing so with a small tired grunt until he was rolling onto his back feeling out of breath, hand searching for yours on the bed.

The realization that the two of you just had unprotected sex after six years apart seemed to hit you first and you sat up worried, looking over at him as he struggled to catch his breath, “Bathroom?”

He lifted a tired hand toward his en suite and you left him tired and alone in the darkness of his bedroom.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could, trying not to let what just happened cloud your mind and remind yourself that you had wanted to talk to him. You’re not sure what this meant, if this meant anything more than just sex between ex lovers or if this was more but you didn’t have much time to question it when Jungkook knocked on the bathroom door and let himself in. He walked past you to the large bathtub, running the water and letting it fill as he looked at you with worry, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, biting your lip, “You?”

A small smile came to his face as the water quickly filled behind him, “Yeah.”

When the bathtub was filled, Jungkook took your hand in his and led you inside the water, “But we should talk.”

“I agree,” you said, suddenly shy by your nakedness and brought your knees to your chest, sinking into the water with your back pressed against the side of the rub. Jungkook sat on the other end, never letting go of your hand as he pulled you toward him until you were between his legs with your back against his chest.

“Y/n,” his voice was soft as he cupped water in his palm to pour down on your bare shoulder, “I really did miss you.”

You released your lip from between your teeth, leaning further against him, “I missed you too.”

“And I want to be with you,” Jungkook admitted, “Even if it’s not how it used to be.”

It was impossible to be how it was six years ago and he’s realized that now but he doesn’t care. If you asked him to be friends even after the passionate sex the two of you had just had, he would do it as long as it meant he could be with you.

“You don’t hate me?” You asked sounding worried. You still loved him and it was embarassing enough to know you finally admitted it when he was inside you but it didn’t change the fact that it was true. You loved Jungkook so much and maybe you always had deep down even when you told yourself you didn’t but could the two of you really try this again?

“I could never,” he said placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as he began to wash the front of your body with his sponge, “You know that.”

“But I left you—“

“No, I left you,” Jungkook said, “I’m the one who wanted to move Y/n, not you. I’m the one who made you feel like you had to choose.”

You stayed quiet and he worried he upset you.

“I came back because I realized that my home wasn’t anywhere else but with you,” he confessed, “And I was too much of a coward when I came back that I didn’t go looking for you the second I had the chance to.”

“Jungkook,” you turned to face him, cuddling into him in the bathtub and eyes wide with affection, “Let’s try, one more time. L-let’s, let’s give us a shot… I… I—I have so much I wish I could’ve done better and if you just give me a chance I promise I will love and support anything you do—“

“Y/n, I would give us a million chances over again if it means I could be with you still.”

::.

yallllll the took me forever 😭ik there wasn’t too much focus on their relationship in the tapes but that’s bc I’m gonna do drabbles of them when I get the chance

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover7 @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedal edel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine e @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun n @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi i @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #Jungkook fic #Jungkook oneshot #Jungkook one shot #Jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook drabble #jungkook series #jungkook #jungkook bts #bts jungkook

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fanwarriorfictions · 2 months

Text

Not Again- Part Two

Azriel x Rowaelin daughter reader

Summary: Y/n woke up in a strange foreign land surrounded by strangers that she couldn’t understand. Alone and desperate to get home.

Series Masterlist

-Part Two-

Y/n kept her dagger pointed at them. The two males and the small female didn’t seem to mind that fact, they seemed more concerned about the Wyrd mark on her brow.

“What is that,” the beautiful male with violet eyes asks, “how did it toss me out of your mind.”

She glares at him, “that was rude of you, trying to look into a ladies mind without her permission.”

She’d felt those talons at the edge of her mind, hitting that ice cold wall that had grabbed him and threw him out without hesitation. She’d felt his shock when that ancient power had flared, she’d felt his pain as it ripped into him just as viciously as he’d attacked her.

The corners of his lips tug, “my apologies, we’ve had bad experiences with random females falling into this world.”

She couldn’t hide the surprise. So she wasn’t the first they’d encountered. How many gates had been opened here? How many had been wrenched from their home worlds against their will. How did the gates get unlocked.

“I don’t take kindly to strangers messing with my head,” she says, memories of sitting in her mother’s office, learning of the valg queen who’d held her mother captive during the war, torturing and twisting her mind, the queen who had gone into her father’s head and convinced him another was his mate just to get her killed, “this mark is the mark of my blood, and protection against beings like you.”

Her mother had woven the protection into her skin the moment she was born, the mark upon her brow no longer just a warning of the price to be paid. The mark will continue to pass down through the bloodline, and it will protect them as it had protected her.

“Who are you?” She asks, “why did you bring me here?”

“My name is Rhysand,” the violet eyed male introduces, his casual stance not moving an inch, a preformance, she was well versed in those, “We didn’t bring you here, Azriel over here found you laying in the dirt.”

He gestures to the male with the dark bat like wings who’s scent had woken her. The scent was familiar, something she couldn’t quite place at first. She’d felt him draw close and that’s when she struck without hesitation. He fought well, countering each of her moves, not attacking, just blocking. When she’d pulled away and truly looked him over, saw those shadows that reminded her of her uncles’, she had recognized that he smelled like the libraries of Orynth. It’d shocked her enough to let the grip on the air go, and when he’d sighed in relief she’d unconsciously warned the air even more. It was strange, very very strange, that reaction to his pain. Her father would bite her head off for the slip.

“There was no one else with me?” She asked the male, Azriel.

He merely shook his head, “just you.”

The small female who’d yet to introduce herself steps forward, “who would’ve been with you?”

Y/n eyes the female warily, she looked like a normal fae, but something told her that this female was more than she seemed, “I was sparring with my father when the gate opened, a force I couldn’t see pulled me down, my head smacked the ground and then I was waking up here. Whatever it was seemed to have just wanted me.”

She could hear her fathers yell as she was pulled away, she remembers the flash of light as he shifted and then everything went black.

“The Wyrd gates have been sealed for 25 years,” Y/n continues, “it shouldn’t have been possible.”

Her mother had almost given her life to lock those gates, she’d given almost everything she was to do it.

“Wyrd gate?” Rhysand asks, shakily testing out the word, it existed in their language, given the way she was able to say it with ease, but obviously it hadn’t been used in a very very long time.

“A gate between worlds,” the small female answers, “gates opened with marks like that.”

She gestures to the mark still faintly glowing on Y/n’s brow.

“Nameless,” the female slowly reads, “you’ve got quite a long name to have nameless stamped on you, girl.”

“Amren play nice,” Rhysand chides halfheartedly.

“Wyrd marks are used for many things,” Y/n says, “it’s the language of worlds, like I said, this one is the mark of my bloodline, passed on from my mother.”

Ever the silent figure, Azriel simply watches, his eyes not missing any details. It’s almost enough to make her squirm, but instead she holds his gaze, refusing to back down even an inch. He’s unfairly beautiful, dark hair curling slightly at the ends, his face unreadable, his eyes the shade of whisky in fire light. Several inches taller than her, she’d have to crane her head back to look him in the eye standing next to him. A warrior, built with lethal muscles that she could see beneath his black shirt, large yet he moved with speed, like one of those wisps of shadows at his shoulders. And those wings, large and foreboding, wicked talons at the beak and on the ends, if he stretched them open they’d be twice, maybe even triple the size of him. The shadows around him dance, more sentient than her uncles, more wild too, they swirl around and whisper in his ears, she wonders what they have to say about her.

“Should we move this conversation somewhere more comfortable?” Rhysand asks, a glimmer in his eye as he breaks the stare down between them.

He takes a step towards Y/n and that dagger is back up in an instant, “I’m perfectly happy to talk here in the open, rather than whatever cell you have in mind.”

Rhysand quirks a brow, “who said anything about a cell.”

Her answering laugh is as cold as ice, “you would invite me into your home? I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“We’ve been down this road before,” Rhysand says, “our last guest was keen on escaping anyway she could, I’m sure you would be as well. I’d like to be able to keep a closer eye on you. Azriel here would be more than happy to fly you up to the house of wind.”

Azriel sends him an inquisitive look, “I would?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Y/n says quickly, examining those bat like wings, “where is this house of wind.”

Rhysand grins as he points across the garden to the looming cliffs hanging above the city beyond, “up there. I promise flying will be much better than the ten thousand steps up to the door. Azriel won’t bite.”

She grins, showing off those sharpened canines, “who says I won’t.”

Azriel subtly examines those teeth, she could easily rip out his throat with them if she wished. Based on the way he shifts back on his feet, she’s sure he’s come to the same conclusion

“I’ll get there myself,” she continues, “just need a guide.”

With a flash of blinding white light, she shifts, taking the form of a large hawk. Surprise lights in the three fae’s eyes, Azriel’s wings flaring in shock. He takes in her form, her red tinged wings, those same cold eyes staring out at him.

“Well isn’t that something.” Rhysand’s head angles, “follow Azriel, he’ll show you to your room. We can continue this conversation in the morning.”

They glance at each other, a silent conversation passing between them, before Azriel spreads his wings and launches into the sky. She bows her head towards the two remaining before she’s shooting into the sky behind him.

She’s fast, faster than him in that nimble form. Azriel flies quickly to the house, yet she surpasses him and circles around to keep pace. He can’t help but feel like she’s stalking him, like he’s a field mouse that she’s picked out for dinner, waiting for the moment she decides to strike. Whatever sort of fae she was set him on edge, her power felt older and wilder like she was closer to the beasts the fae used to be, the ones with raw magic that drew directly from the earth beneath them. That wind could pull the air from beneath his wings, pull it straight from his lungs, that fire could burn him to ash from the inside out. It was the most unsettling feeling.

They land on the balcony, a bright flare of light and she is back to that fae form, cold eyes assessing every inch of the house around her. It fells like a mistake to turn his back towards her to walk inside, a mistake that could end with that red hot dagger in between his shoulder blades, maybe even one of those small throwing knives sheathed by her ribs. He can’t help but glance at the leather vest, it was tight to her skin, laced in the back to fit her form. The evidence of the way she’d been ripped from her world shown in the rips in her clothes, in the blood around her collar from the healing wound on her head. It’d started stitching itself together quickly considering how much she’d been bleeding when he found her.

“After you,” he says gesturing towards the hall.

Her eyes wisely slip towards truth teller at his side, but no complaint rises to her lips. She holds her head high as she walks past him, close enough that he could easily grab her and put his blade to her throat, close enough that he caught the scent of pine and snow and embers. She wasn’t scared of him, and with the way she fought, she had every right not to be.

He drifts behind her, giving her single word directions down the familiar halls until they were standing before the door he’d chosen as her room.

“The house will give you whatever you need,” he says, “simply ask and it will appear. If you need anything else, I’m right across the hall.”

If the sentient house was a surprise it didn’t show on her face, instead she asks with a small smirk on her lips, “are you my host or my keeper?”

The teasing tone takes him by surprise, “I’m here to keep a close eye on you. Our last guest had a tendency for surprises.”

She eyes him in that predator like manor, gaze drifting over his shoulder to a wisp of shadow, “keep any wandering eyes to your side of the hall.”

That shadow moves on its own accord, drifting towards her like she’s a magnet. She bares her sharp teeth at the little wisp, scaring it back to Azriel’s side. It hides like a scolded child and he finds himself holding back a chuckle.

“You’ve seen shadows like this before?”

She shakes her head, “not quite. Two of my uncles can control shadows like yours, but they’re not sentient creatures.”

He wasn’t surprised that there weren’t more like him in her world, he’d spent a long time looking for other shadowsingers to help him master his power, in the end it was just him and his shadows who’d figured it out. Even Quinlann’s brother wasn’t like him, not completely.

“They whisper to you,” she states, not a question.

“How’d you know that?”

A breeze drifts past him and she says, “I can feel them in the wind. Can’t quite understand what they’re saying, but I can feel their whispering in your ears.”

“It’s called shadowsinging,” he supplies, he’s not quite sure why but he tells her, “if you spend enough time in the shadows you learn their language.”

She hums, stepping towards her door, “keep the little busybodies close by, I don’t take kindly to little spies in my rooms.”

“As you wish, your highness,” he’s not sure where the title comes from, or the taunting tone.

She throws a look over her shoulder, those eyes blazing instead of cold, “Goodnight, shadowsinger”

The door slams shut behind her and Azriel simply watches. Watches as her shadow fades from the crack beneath, as a cold wind blows through his hair, as his shadows dance with that wind. He stands there for several moments until an amused chuckle sounds in his head.

Don’t let a pretty face distract you brother.

Shut up, Azriel scowls, closing the doors to his minds and turning to his bedroom. The breeze follows him and it gives him the strangest feeling of being watched.

Y/n found that Azriel wasn’t lying when he said the house would give her whatever she asked for. She’d barely thought about a bath before she’d heard running water in the adjacent room.

The bedroom was huge, to her right a large bed centered on the wall that looked like it could comfortably accommodate several people. A seating area to her left with plush couches and low backed chairs, made for winged males like her keeper across the hall she presumed. The red stone walls warm and adorned with a lit fireplace and giant windows overlooking the city far below. She’d admired the view on the flight to the house, but standing there looking at the twinkling lights below, the bright stars above, she could really appreciate the beauty in it. Yet, it didn’t hold a candle to the lights of Orynth in her eyes.

And just like that, the homesickness hit her. She could picture her family, her mother and father raging through the castle, looking for any clues as to where she’d been taken. She could see her uncles barking orders at warriors to search the castle and city surrounding from top to bottom. She could see her distraught aunt shifting into the snow leopard that would tear apart whatever person or thing that would dare harm her niece. What time was it back home, would they work until dawn, would they rest and come back in the morning, would her father hold together the pieces as her mother finally broke?

Y/n stared and stared and stared at that glowing city, wishing she was home, reading a book by the fire in her mother’s sitting room as she listened to her parents bicker back and forth. She’d been reading a romance her uncle had brought her from the castle library in Adarlan. It would still be sitting on the table, the scrap paper bookmark halfway through the well worn pages.

A tray appears on the table next to her, full of meats and cheeses and fruits. She could feel the curious presence around her, the house it seemed was a busybody.

She eyes the plate, “I’m not hungry.”

The tray stays put, and she huffs, pushing away from the windows towards the attached bathing chamber. That presence seems to sigh, clearly frustrated with her but she paid it no mind.

Her body ached, the adrenaline wearing off enough that she could feel each cut and bruise from the vicious way she’d been dragged through that gate and thrown to the garden floor in this strange world. Her head ached, pulsing with pain each step she took, everything ached, her head, her body, her heart.

A giant bath was drawn, steaming water with frothing bubbles that smelled of lavender. There were plush towels on the small stool by the bath, and clean clothes on the counter beneath the mirror. Soft light illuminated the space, she didn’t care to think where it came from, how it all worked. All she cared about was stripping off her tattered and bloodied clothes and submerging herself into that water. She felt each cut burn as she went down, felt the wound on her head scream in pain as she drifted down beneath the surface.

She burned, and kept burning, and burning and burning, and burning.

#this is a very slow slow slow start but whatever #I had to give them a bit of banter #i couldn’t resist #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #rowaelin daughter

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wildflowerluver · 1 year

Text

beautiful sound

derek morgan x fem!reader

derek doubts your ability on the team. his words hurt more than normal.

cw: case mentions, slight enemies to lovers, derek is kinda an asshole, quiet!reader, reader knows sign language, first kiss, she/her pronouns, bau reader, objectification of women, hotch defender

wc: 2.6k

༺♡༻

you’re quiet, you always have been.

growing up, you sat on your hands, often not making a sound.

it became routine, a habit. speaking became a bother.

you learned to sign from an early age. although most didn’t know the language, it was comforting to have a second form of communication.

when drafted into the bau, your quietness was never a problem; marked on your file actually. it proved to be an asset at times. you see people differently and when a case involves someone who struggles communicating, your skill set helps out.

the team is sent for a case in san jose.

you hate referring to it as standard but that's what it was, four women murdered with the same m.o.

once boarding the plane, you slide into a window seat in the group of four. derek clambers in after you. when hotch assigns you and spencer to victimology and the geographical profile, he bumps your arm.

“was hoping i would get victimology with you for once instead of pretty boy.”

you blush. the comment is flirty enough to speed up your heart rate.

as much as you want to work with derek, you like working with spencer. the two of you work well together and he knows how to sign. makes it a lot easier than writing information down to convey to the others.

though the case is standard, it takes three days to get a lead.

no one takes a break. between another body being found in that time and a restless community, there isn’t time. victimology is tough too. the women are all different, no jobs, friends, or hobbies to connect them.

to combat the long hours, derek brings you and spencer coffee, his warm and yours iced. spencer grumbles about having to add cream and sugar to it but yours is perfect, your exact order. it’s a small gesture but it sends your heart fluttering. but, you know not to overthink it. if anyone asked, you could recite the team's coffee orders off the top of your head; except for hotch who, in secret, prefers matcha.

you choose to stay at the precinct when garcia gives off the name and address of the suspect; arthur miller. raids aren't your strong suit. each member of the team looks at you as they leave to which you nod. a silent be safe.

miller fights the entire way to the interrogation room. derek’s grip on his arms are strong but even he struggles a bit with the thrashing. you don’t blame miller. as of right now, he’s innocent. if you were brought in, you would be kicking too.

once the team regroups, the objective is clear; get a confession or frankly, anything that’ll help the case.

“y/n, get ready. you’re interviewing.”

hotch’s orders are stern.

derek scoffed. “hotch, come on man. we have a missing woman and he is the only suspect we have. you want to send her? she never talks.”

your head drops. it’s not an unusual reaction but his words sting; you’re used to side comments from police officers or families from cases, not a close friend.

“morgan,” hotch warns.

“no no. we have five dead women and who knows if there are any others. and you want to send in the girl who can barely even operate verbally on this team. are you not seeing how she could screw this up?”

it’s silent.

your heart splits out of pure betrayal and dejection. you weren’t exactly open with the team about why you’re so quiet, but you didn’t think anyone on the team thought of you this way, let alone derek.

hotch turns to you with a nod. permission to proceed. you stand up with your head bowed.

you like derek, more than you probably should. it's childish, delusional, to think he would ever like you back. but his words don’t just sting, they burn. barely even operate, screw this up. you bite your lip in an attempt to try to not to let it show how this is impacting you.

derek shakes his head and turns around, mumbling something about it being the wrong decision. you have no choice but to ignore it, grabbing your cosmetics bag and heading into the precinct bathroom to get ready.

eyes fall to you as you stepped out of the bathroom. this is the biggest interview of your career yet, and you needed to dress the part.

you kept your dress pants on, though you shed your top layer besides a tank top, pulling it down just enough to be considered scandalous. with makeup and hair dolled up, you grabbed the file from hotch and stopped.

“are you ready for this?” his questioned stems from protectiveness.

you nod. “i am.”

with the case file in hand, you head towards the interrogation room. you look nervous, like you don’t know if there's a hungry lion or bouquet of flowers on the other side.

but the second the door clicked shut, your demeanor changed.

“well hello pretty lady,” arthur greets almost immediately.

to the teams surprise, you giggle. “pretty?”

“very.”

a smile remains on your face as you sit down, case file placed on the table.

“now i have to ask, what’s a pretty lady like you doing with the fbi?” he muses.

you shrug, hand moving up to twirl a strand of hair. “i dunno,” you start. your tone is sweet, almost sickeningly. “my daddy wanted me to make something of myself. thought crime might be fun. i was actually excited to be asked to talk to you.”

this catches arthur’s attention.

“you interested in murder, little lady?”

you nod, pulling in your bottom lip as you lean forward. his eyes fall to your chest. it’s gross and subjective but expected.

“i asked my boss to let me talk to you,” you reveal. “i couldn’t help it. they all left for the day so i’m working off the clock for this.”

“off the clock?” arthur clicked his tongue twice. “eager girl.”

“yup,” you beam, popping the last letter. “i asked if i could film it but they said no. have to pay to record after hours i think.”

“i guess i’ll just have to make this moment last.”

you met his eyes, though not for too long to keep up your act.

“tell me about this?” you beg after opening the file, a pout passing your lips. “it’s so cool.”

arthur grins and at that moment, you know you have him right where you need him.

“well,” he starts, using two fingers to slide one of the pictures out. “that was lacy walker. ooh ooh ooh, she was sweet. screamed too. all the best ones scream.”

“these are all of your kills?” you hope your astonishment sounds genuine.

arthur grins. “only the public ones.”

only the public ones.

there’s more.

there’s more killings no one even knows about.

your head is spinning. you don’t even want to think about the reaction of the others behind the one-way glass. while you wanted to coerce more information out of him about it, you knew you would be pushing your luck.

instead, you roll your eyes and scoff. facade aside, you can’t help it.

“you know i thought criminals like you were smart.”

arthur freezes. “what?”

“i mean come on. are you really dumb enough to think that all of this isn’t being recorded?” the question hangs in the air. “because you just confessed to a hell of a lot of murders.”

he jumps up, realizing what he’s done. at the same time, you do too, slamming your hands on your desk. you stand taller, height not restricted by handcuffs connected to the table.

“that’s honestly just embarrassing,” you titter.

arthur yells the entire time it takes you to gather the file and walk ouit of the room, but it doesn’t impact you. you got a confession and you got it quick. someone else can deal with interrogating him on his other victims.

you don’t stop to talk to the team, though their faces show a range of emotions: proud, impressed, and a slight bit of panic, no doubt from the information you got out of arthur. after grabbing your cosmetics bag, you head to the bathroom. all of the team, besides one, has turned away at this point. you don’t even have to guess as to who keeps their gaze on you.

hotch sends everyone to the hotel to get some rest. interrogations on arthur’s other murders would wait until the following day.

no one was going to argue with that.

derek made his way to your hotel room that night. he mind was swirling with what he said to you earlier and especially after a not-so-nice talking to from emily, he needed to apologize.

you heard the knock on your door after you slipped a t-shirt on post shower. it was late and you were sure most of the team was asleep.

after checking the peephole, you hook a deep breath and opened the door.

“y/n,” derek greets.

it’s weird for him to be here, especially at this hour and especially after what went down earlier in the day.

“can i come in?”

you nod, opening the door a little wider for him to step in.

your eyes look at him quizzingly and derek swears he melts. if his guilt hadn’t reached the surface, it did now. eyes were always a weakness. when you didn’t talk, your eyes showed how you were feeling and right now, they’re filled with sadness.

“i wanted to apologize for what i said today,” he starts. “it was out of line. i shouldn’t have questioned your ability. I'm sorry.”

short and simple.

you stay quiet.

as much as you want to forgive him, tell him “it’s okay,” a simple ‘i’m sorry’ doesn’t fix things.

derek continues. “you deserve to be on this team, i shouldn’t have questioned that. i’m sorry, i really am. i like you,” you swear your heart stops. “i like working with you. i just hope you understand where i was coming from.”

that last part erases all prior apologies. seconds ago you would have placed money that there was an underlying confession in there. you would have gone to bed blushing and giggling over the possibility of requited feelings. how could you have understood where he was coming from?

your eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line.

you rack your mind for something to say. you need him to know how he hurt you, but yelling isn’t something you do, especially at someone like derek.

the silence becomes unbearable even for him.

“god for once in your life can you please say something?” derek looks to the ceiling. “i’m trying to do the right thing here.”

each word stings more than the last.

he didn’t want to apologize for the things he said, but rather he felt like he had to.

“goodnight derek,” you whisper. anger bubbles but you don’t - can’t - lash out.

derek looks to you defeated. you know that’s not the response he was expecting.

the door closing after him rings in his ears even as he falls asleep.

____

hotch and rossi lead the interrogations the next day.

they’re the opposite of what you gave arthur. they’re strict and stern and get the information they need by early evening.

but it’s too late to fly home to washington.

when he makes the announcement that you would be staying in san jose until the following morning, spencer is nodding off on your shoulder and j.j. is slumped in a chair in the corner. everyone needs sleep.

you trudge into your hotel room, following the same routine as the prior night. a shower feels wonderful on your tired body.

ignoring derek isn’t ideal, but it’s necessary. it’s painful and hurts more every time you remember how much you like him. when spencer goes quiet, derek seems to understand, never pushing him to speak when he doesn’t want to. but for you, it’s different. why is it different?

that question racks your brain as you get dressed.

before you can crawl in bed, there’s another knock. this time you don’t even have to guess who it is.

“we need to talk,” derek pushes out.

everything inside of you is telling you not to open the door further, not to let him in. He didn’t even greet you this time. but you do, derek walking inside, though not moving past the space after the door.

“i know i apologized last night,” he cringes at his words. “well, attempted to apologize. i don’t have any excuses, really. the things about liking you and working with you, those we’re all true, i promise. i let my emotions get the best of me and i took it out on you. i know it doesn’t justify any of this but i wanted to apologize again.”

his apology is nice, it feels genuine but the question from earlier is eating you up and you can’t have it unanswered.

“why do you treat me differently than spencer?”

derek furrows his brow. “different?”

“every time he doesn’t talk, you don’t seem bothered. but when it’s me, it’s like my silence is the greatest inconvenience in the world to you.”

“oh.”

you suddenly feel small, like every instance you’ve picked up on never even happened.

it’s easier to drop your head, tap your fingers consistently on your palm and go quiet. always go quiet.

but derek doesn’t let you. his finger hooks under your chin to pull your face up to his.

“hey hey, don’t hide from me now.”

“i’m sorry,” you squeak.

“no need to apologize.”

his gaze is intimidating. you feel like he’s profiling you, the rule the team put in place seemingly not existing.

“i treat you differently because you’re you. i promise it’s not a bother, i just really really like your voice.”

your mouth parts. you don’t miss the flicker of derek’s eyes down to them. you know your expression is probably embarrassing right now, how in love you look. but you’re past embarrassment and you take your chances.

your kiss is soft and gentle, short and sweet.

derek isn’t expecting it. he thought you would’ve been a lot more upset, not using his mistakes as a reveal of your feelings. but in no matter does he mind. if he’s being honest, he’s waited for this moment for a while.

you pull away first, mouth opening to utter an apology but derek beats you to it, meeting your lips in a bruising kiss.

neither of you know if this would be your only kiss and it’s clear in the way he holds you.

you don’t part the entire way derek nudges you towards the bed. you fall first, him crawling on top. you pull back first. your breaths are heavy and your eyes never leave derek’s.

it’s expected that he would say something first, though you weren’t sure what he would say. are your feelings really the same? are you even allowed to date within the team?

but derek doesn’t verbalize any of that. his thumb moves to the space between your eyebrows, rubbing just slightly back and forth to ease the crinkle you developed from your overthinking. oh.

you know he still feels bad about his earlier words. but he kisses the tip of your nose before ducking down to your jawline, trailing kisses there.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” each apology is met with a kiss to your neck, almost as if he’s pressing his words into your skin.

and to his surprise, you giggle.

“stop apologizing.”

derek pulls back, eyes meeting yours.

your cheeks are rosy, lips plump from kissing. one hand rests on the spot beside your head, using it to hold himself up. derek’s other hand, previously on your hip, moves to cup your cheek.

“i think that might just be the most beautiful sound i’ve ever heard.”

and with that, his lips meet yours again.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #derek morgan #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x y/n #Derek Morgan blurb #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x y/n #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan fanfic #criminal minds reader insert #cm x reader

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cookiebelle · 10 months

Text

Me Fui de Vacaciones • Damian Priest x AFAB reader

Warnings • 2nd person pov (no use of y/n), reader is Afab but I did my best to be as inclusive and nondescript as possible

Smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected PIV sex, oral (m receiving), names (Gatita, baby, you get it), some extremely light kink (spanking, biting, choking, hair pulling), lil bit of Sir kink, size kink sort of, exactly two uses of the word “whore”, porn with an unnecessary amount of plot, tropes galore, idiots to lovers requires its own warning, bad Spanish translations probably.

Word Count • 6.2k words, I have no reasonable explanation for this.

A/N • This should go without saying, but I’m gonna say it anyway. This is a wrestling fic, featuring wrestlers. While wrestlers are indeed real people with real lives, they are also playing characters. The people mentioned in this fic are their characters, and in no way am I depicting the individuals who portray them.

Burning logs crackled. One. Two. Three beers became five. Your feet dug into soft, cool sand as you and your closest friends talked around a fire.

It was the beginning of a well deserved mini-vacation, and the five of you weren’t intending to waste a moment of it. So when you all arrived at the little beach cottage you had rented, even at nearly midnight, you were hell bent on getting the most of your time off. So the fire was built, drinks were passed around, and laughter carried across the beach.

Most people called your friends “The Judgment Day”. You just called them family, though. You had met Damian first, in 2020, the near end of his NXT career marking your beginning. He quickly became your mentor as you navigated the tribulations of what it meant to work for the company, a true friend among those who looked at you only as competition. Later, he introduced you to Rhea. Then the faction formed, and Finn joined the circle, then Dom. Your call up to the main roster occurred shortly after, during the draft. The celebration that ensued when you learned you would be working with the rest of the crew was legendary. These, truly, were your people.

And then there you were, a year later, feet in the sand. You played a light tune on your guitar as though it were the backing score to Bálor’s story, leaving the group captivated. Well, everyone but you. You were looking up at the stars, taking it all in, wondering how you could possibly be so lucky. You decided not to tempt fate by asking the universe that very question, but it seemed fate had its own ideas for this week.

“You good?”

Rhea’s voice pulled you from your daydream and all at once, everyone was looking at you. You realized, in your deep state of thought, your random plucking at the guitar had faded to nothing.

“So good…” you grinned, slurring slightly, at which the group chuckled and carried on with their conversations. Crisis averted. At least you thought. Damian’s gaze lingered on you when you looked back down at the frets of your guitar, but you didn’t seem to notice.

It was a drunken stumble back to the house, sometime around 3AM, everyone finally exhausted enough to end the day and refresh themselves for the next. Except you. As they all said their goodnights and retired to their respective rooms, you found yourself on the couch, unable to sleep and watching reruns of the same sitcoms you had seen a hundred times.

—————

“Hey… Hey you…”

You felt something… poking you?

“Hellooooo…”

You gasped and sat up, eyes wildly searching the room until you found Rhea standing above you. It was light outside, light enough that golden rays peeked through the curtains and illuminated her face. You glanced at the clock. 7am. Hadn’t you guys just gone to bed?

“We’re going to the gym. You coming?”

“I thought we were on vacation,” You groaned and laid back down, covering your face with a throw pillow as you realized how sore your back was. Why the hell did you sleep on the couch all night?

“Suit yourself. We’ll back in a couple hours.”

You rolled over, scrunched up but content as the footsteps left the house, got in the car, and drove away. Slowly, you dozed back off into that euphoric state of half sleep.

“Hey…”

Oh fuck. Damian. Your heart picked up and suddenly you were awake once more. You thought you had heard all of them leave, and yet…

“Hey, you awake?”

You remained rigidly still save for your breathing, even as you heard him approach. For whatever reason, pretending to still be asleep was your first and only instinct. It did you little good, however.

In one sudden motion, as if you weighed nothing at all, you were scooped up into his arms. Still, you pretended to sleep. Despite your heart racing. Despite how badly you wanted to lean into the safety and warmth of his chest. Despite the fire that sparked in your core every time you got close to him.

Yeah, you were down bad. The moment he got in the ring to spar with you that first time, you were a goner, and it only got worse as years went on. You had spent holidays together, traveled to countless cities and countries, bared your soul to him over late night gin and cigarettes. You saw him for what he was. When others saw a monster of a man, a Broken Angel as he was once called, you saw someone sensitive, fierce, and loyal. Even the flaws drew you closer, but you could focus on those another time.

You kept the feelings under the hat as best you could. The only time you let it slip was to Rhea, early on in your friendship, your eyes lingering too long on Damian as he walked away from the two of you. She promised to take the secret to her grave. That didn’t stop her from teasing you in private, though, or from dropping the subtlest of hints when you were all together. Hints Damian never seemed to get, or maybe he did. Who really knows?

Back in the present, he was carrying you… somewhere, that much you could glean with your eyes closed. And then you were placed somewhere soft. Already warm and slept in, like the comfiest hug. Wait… was this his bed? You breathed deeply and realized it was, regrettably, recognizing the scent of his hair left behind on the pillow.

He covered you with a blanket, pushing away some hair that had fallen in your face. It was a surprisingly tender gesture from someone like him, especially for “just a friend”, but that was something you had gotten used to. It was one of the many facets of who he was, showing his love with touch. He was always there for you with a hug when you needed it, or a rub to your shoulders after a good match, and he seemed to mess with your hair a lot, too. You thought nothing of it. That was just.. him.

You decided, as his hand drew away from your face, that now was as good a time as any to begin to stir. You slowly blinked your eyes open and looked up as he was still standing beside you, just turning to leave.

“Mmmm hello…” you mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up… you just looked uncomfortable and I was getting up anyway so I figured…” He seemed almost nervous, immediately pulling his hands away from you.

“No, it’s fine,” you cut him off, stretching for the first time in what felt like days, “thank you..”

“Okay, well.. you sleep. I’m gonna make breakfast..” he turned back to leave and you quickly grabbed onto his hand, tugging it backward.

“Too early for breakfast. It’s your bed. Come lay down…” your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard every word.

It wasn’t as though you two hadn’t shared plenty of beds. Traveling on tour was like that. With Dom and Rhea paired off, and Finn preferring to be alone, you two often ended up in a room together, and thanks to Damian’s stature that meant sharing a single king bed. Of course, you didn’t mind. Not even as you laid awake all those nights, trying to quell that burning need you couldn’t seem to shake when you were so close yet so far from him. You wondered how he could sleep, how he couldn’t feel your nervous energy from across the bed. Maybe he could, and just paid it no mind.

This time was different, though. Charged. Like the energy you felt shooting through the fingertips that touched him was somehow a mutual exchange. Like if you pulled your hand from his right now, you would see the electricity connecting them. You couldn’t explain how or why, all you could do was tug on his hand as he tried to decline your invitation.

“There’s no way you’re not tired, come on…”

And, after a moment of your insistence, he reluctantly obliged.

There was a dip in the bed, and you hummed happily as a strong arm wrapped around you, hugging you close for a moment as he got situated. You rolled onto your side, facing away from him so you could hide your secret little smile. Strong arms wrapped around you again, to your surprise, and you shifted until you both were comfortable laying there in each other’s space.

You two always ended up like this, once you finally found yourself able to sleep. You would wake curled up against his massive frame, him holding you in a manner that could only be described as possessive. It was almost as though he was protecting you in your slumber; From what, you weren’t sure. Bad dreams? Aliens? You always played it off as though you two just enjoyed the closeness, drawn to each other in the unconscious. You’d vehemently defend to Rhea that it was strictly platonic. The butterflies in your throat disagreed.

It felt like every single cell in your body was vibrating. You thought there was no way that you could sleep, and yet you felt your eyelids droop as his warmth spread around you. Once again, you dozed, your body weightless despite being hyper aware of the fact that you were pressed up against him. His shallow, sleepy breaths puffed across the top of your head, but you would later learn he was also not sleeping.

No, he was in the same predicament as you. Pretending to sleep while his mind raced and the smell of your hair drew him further into this downward spiral. It was all innocent thoughts at first. Friendly. Looking forward to spending time with you and the others over the next few days. Then he opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of your peaceful, sleeping face and a switch flipped. Suddenly he was consumed by the thought of waking you up and taking you then and there, finally giving into the urge he felt every time he got close to you. Every time he watched you wrestle. Every time you smiled at him from across a room, or fell asleep on him during long flights, or gave his butt a pat as he walked out from Gorilla to the ramp. He valued your friendship more than that urge, though, and it’s stopped him every time he’s nearly gone through with indulging it.

Lost in your thoughts, you only barely registered the fact that he had scooted a little bit closer to you than before, hips flush with the curve of your ass. Something else pressed against you, something somewhat firm and insistent. You blushed, trying to muffle the faintest gasp at the realization of exactly what it was. He had to be sleeping… right? Would he do this if he wasn’t?

You didn’t know what to do, frozen still by the options before you. You could ignore it, pretend to keep sleeping and act as though nothing was happening. That was the safest option. You two could proceed as usual, protecting your friendship for the long run while you pined for him still. Or… you could give in and acknowledge it, say fuck it to all of the doubt and uncertainty.

Fuck it.

You moved to back yourself up further against him, making sure to slowly grind your hips and drag your ass against the clothed protrusion. You heard a low, barely audible noise from him, spurring you on as you arched your back slightly and once again pressed your ass into him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing…” he whispered under his breath, not wanting to wake you if this was all just some kind of cruel joke the universe was playing on him. His hand went from holding you across your waist to slowly tracing a line down your side, stopping at your hip and squeezing gently. You hummed again, softly, leaning into his touch.

It burned where his fingertips made contact with your skin, feeling that same electric energy as before, stealing the breath from your lungs. It was now or never, you decided, no going back from here. A calculated risk, but you were always so bad at math. Slowly, you reached back, grabbing hold of his hip and using the new leverage to really grind against him. You heard a low rumbling, like thunder in his chest, fingers digging into your hip.

“Don’t tease me…” another barely audible growl of a whisper. You chuckled softly, putting on an air of confidence in spite of your hammering heart, moving just enough in his hold to turn your head and look innocently at him. God, he loved that look. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking you over with a glint in his eye you’d never seen before, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Who’s teasing?” You offered a smile over your shoulder.

“I mean it…” he brought you closer to him, his lips finding your bare shoulder. He placed a kiss on it, then bit down softly, eliciting the tiniest gasp from you. Another kiss, another bite, another low, sleepy whine from you as your hips begged for more friction. His hand on your hip pulled you back as he rocked slowly into you. God, why did he have to make this so good? It was bad enough that you were past some kind of point of no return, but every press of his hips to your behind only made it worse, forcing tiny moans out of you. Officially helpless to the way your body was reacting to his touch, you didn’t bother resisting it any longer. Your hand on his hip reached between the two of you, teasing along the waistband of his boxers before reaching in. Your hand slid tentatively down his pelvis, running over smooth, hot skin before finally wrapping around what you were looking for.

It was damn near as intimidating as he was. Long and thick and heavy, twitching slightly in your grasp as he grew harder. You couldn’t help but utter a quiet “Fuck”. His chest rumbled as you stroked him a few times, and you couldn’t help but groan with him, the slick heat of your core only growing more overwhelming with each glide of your palm. You felt lips on your neck now, doing the same as before. A kiss, a bite, then another soothing kiss as you mewled at the sensation, your walls clenching around nothing, absolutely begging for him. You’d be lucky if you made it out of this without him marking you, but would that really be lucky? You kept on with soft, slow strokes, breathless as he continued to focus on your neck.

“Are you sure we should do this…” he breathed in your ear, your movements slowing as you processed his question. He was giving you one last out, it seemed. One last opportunity to say “you’re right, let’s stop”, though you both knew you had already gone too far to come back from this. But, with no hesitation, you nodded.

It all happened so fast after that. In half a second you were flat on your back, eyes wide as you tried to choke out something clever or witty to say, completely failing. He wasn’t touching you yet, but nonetheless you were pinned, his massive frame caging yours entirely. Your eyes cut down to discover he’d slid his boxers off, hard cock hanging between his legs. Fuck, it looked even better than it felt. Your gaze wandered back up to his confident smirk. He knew what he was working with, clearly. Smug bastard.

“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice…” you couldn’t help but laugh, doing everything you could to look normal, ignoring the steady beating in your ears.

“Just couldn’t help but notice you admiring something…” he chuckled, then leaned back down to kiss your neck, and suddenly your mind was mush again except for him.

You were ripped from your thoughts as you found your top being pulled off and your breasts exposed, his mouth immediately attaching to one. He was all teeth and tongue, frantic and desperate, years of tension finally breaking the dam and rushing through his veins. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, writhing and gasping as he played you so expertly, somehow finding every little sensitive spot and knowing exactly how to wring the most pathetic little sounds from your throat. Had your nipples always been this sensitive? You couldn’t remember. In fact, this all felt so new, like it was your first time all over again. His intense focus turned up to you as he switched to your other breast, the eye contact enough to ruin you both. You broke it, certain you would come in an instant if you held his dark eyes any longer.

Damian let go of your nipple with a tug of his teeth, leaning up to finally kiss your lips, both hands holding your face. White heat burst behind your eyes as his tongue immediately assumed dominance over yours. You wrapped your arms around broad shoulders, moaning shamelessly into his mouth as tongues danced and one of his hands moved to firmly hold your jaw. He only broke the kiss to speak, lips just centimeters from yours.

“Pretty little thing… me estás matando…”

Your loss for words left you grinning stupidly in response. You, killing him? While you’ve lost all sense of chill, not even bothering to pretend to be casual about this? He kissed the smile off your face, biting and tugging on your bottom lip as he pulled away, leaving your lips to chase his as you whined with need. It was strange, the fact that you needed him. You’d had plenty of partners, plenty of good sex. Sure, you wanted them, but this felt like you’d surely die if you didn’t feel him inside you soon. Like your body would simply vaporize without his touch. Maybe this was how it was going to be from now on, feeling like something was distinctly missing when he wasn’t touching you.

Your flimsy cotton shorts were the next to go, his lips finding every inch of exposed skin down your abdomen and claiming it as his own. Eager hands glided down his shoulders and back, taking in the way each muscle flexed as he moved along your body.

His energy was impossible to place, manic but calm. He knew exactly what he was doing, but still moved with an urgency as if the two of you would be caught any moment. Which… was partially true. In a moment of clarity, the rest of the crew came to mind and your heart picked up at the realization that they would be back soon, and this would be over. Or worse.. they could find you two, passionately entangled. What would they say? What would HE say? You feared he would deny it, too ashamed to admit he felt anything for you, even just lust.

Your thoughts continued to race, eyes closing as you panicked. You tried to be discreet about it, but if anyone knew your cues, it was Damian. He moved back up to you, a strong yet delicate hand wrapping around your throat as he kissed you. Well, that was one way to knock out the intrusive thoughts.

“Look at me,” he squeezed ever so slightly as your eyes focused, his tone stern yet soft, “whatever you’re thinking about. Doesn’t matter right now. Tell me what does.” Another squeeze.

“You.”

“And what else…”

“… me?”

“Good girl.”

Another kiss, another squeeze, and he was gone. Back to leaving bite marks down your body. He came down to your panties and let out a silent, somewhat shaky breath. Finally. Finally he had you right where he always wanted you. It was almost overwhelming, but he didn’t let onto that. His fingers gently traced over black cotton, finding a damp spot along the seam of your cunt.

“Oh gatita,” he kept focus along that spot, shooting sparks through your entire body with how inexplicably sensitive you were, “is this all for me?”

All you could do was whimper in response, letting your head fall back to the pillow as your hips chased his fingers, begging for more. He granted you that extra friction, mouth falling open as he watched you shamelessly grind against his hand.

And then he pulled away, leaving you whining from the loss. In a blink, your panties were tossed to the floor and finally the two of you could take in the sight of one another. It took all of the self control he had not to split you open on his cock right there, but he resisted, instead kneeling between your open legs.

You looked up at him, breathing out a barely audible “please”. You nearly took him out right there, his composure faltering as he fully looked you over.

“Perfect,” he exhaled, readjusting his position and giving his straining cock a few lazy strokes, making sure you were watching. Oh, you were watching, nearly drooling at the sight.

His hand found your pussy again, gently swirling a thumb around your clit, eyes locked with yours and hand still slowly working his cock. He wanted to see every reaction, every little microexpression, he wanted it all. He had waited this long for you, years of picturing you in this exact moment. He wanted to savor everything.

You moaned through your bitten lip as he teased, not daring to look away from him. He had you captive, it seemed, frozen in place and begging for anything he could give you. Which is why you whined so pathetically when he pulled his hand away, once again.

He sucked your essence from his thumb, savoring your sweetness. You hummed at the sight, closing your eyes, only to feel his grip on your jaw a moment later to tilt your head up toward him.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice deeper, more serious. You didn’t dare disobey him, looking up like a deer in headlights. Something about that voice… you couldn’t quite place it. He growled lowly, bringing his hand back down to your cunt. He collected some of your juices on his finger, running it up and down your slick folds before slowly, agonizingly sliding it inside.

He still gripped your chin, daring you to look away as you whimpered at the sudden fullness. You had always admired his hands, giant and strong and rough, yet gentle. You’d wondered how they would feel in this exact scenario, often finding your mind wandering as your own smaller hand worked to your release in the late nights. It was beyond what you had imagined, so much more. His finger found a slow, steady pace, filling you perfectly and yet not enough all at once. You moved your hips with his rhythm, mouth slack in euphoria, eyes still trained to his.

“So fucking good for me, look how well you’re taking it,” he praised, letting go of your jaw to let you look down at where his finger was disappearing into your tight hole. Then, as you watched, he added another finger, wrenching a moan straight from your chest as your head fell back once more. Now the pace picked up, the thrusts of his hand stronger, more precise as he curled his fingers to find that sensitive little spot. You gasped and panted pathetically as he played you so expertly, looking back down at his hand only to fall back onto the pillow, overwhelmed by the sight.

It’s unfair, how he seemed to know you without knowing you. Without much effort at all from him, you found yourself closing in on climax, your panting gradually becoming uninhibited moans of “Please. Please. Please.”

“Please what, gatita?” He cooed, slowing the pace ever so slightly as he leaned over you.

“Please. Just. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Just don’t stop.”

“Oh, don’t stop?” He slowed just a bit more, grinning down at you. You could only whine in response, hips moving sloppily now, trying to encourage him to fuck you faster. Harder. He obliged… for the moment. Your walls slowly grew tighter, your moans more heady and uncontrolled. You felt the coil tighten. Tighten. Tighten…

And then he slowed again. Painfully. Your orgasm held at bay, he couldn’t have appeared more smug, knowing exactly what he was doing. You looked up at him, flushed and desperate.

“Why’d you do that?” A whine, to which his response was simply to kiss you. Again, he picked up the pace, adding another finger, making sure you felt just how much he stretched you. Oh, you felt it. Your vision went blurry at the sensation, focusing on him and only him.

It didn’t take much to bring you to that edge again, the coil tightening even more, threatening to break with every rough pump of his fingers. He was hovering over you now, leaning down and biting on your shoulder, sucking a mark into it. Apparently, he didn’t think about the consequences of that… or maybe he didn’t care. Nevertheless, he bit again, smirking into your shoulder as you arched your back and rode his fingers, dramatically chasing your high. You were so, so close, every muscle in your body tense, hands scratching down his back.

“Come on, baby. Come for me.”

It hit like a brick to the face after that, overtaking you in every way as you moaned and gasped, holding onto him for dear life. He nuzzled his face into you, kissing and sucking marks down your chest to your abdomen, every press of his lips electric.

Everything felt blurry and yet razor sharp, every muscle in your body twitching in the aftershocks. You barely registered that he had kissed back up your body, hands on either side of your head as he waited above. His lips locked with yours the moment your eyes focused, your hands immediately twisting in his hair, holding him as close to you as you could.

You felt the weeping head of his cock prod at your folds, one of his hands guiding it to rub against your clit, still sensitive from your first orgasm. You mewled with anticipation, your hips grinding down against him.

“Patience…” he breathed against your lips, your hips stilling as he slowly slid inside. Just the head. A gasp from both of you. And then another inch. Fuck. And then another. And another. Until you felt all of him and all you could do was pull him in for another consuming kiss. He started with a slow pace, almost sweet, letting you get used to his size. It quickly grew intense, rough and fast, as he let himself fall into the demands of desire. Your hands grabbed at anything on him you could as he overwhelmed you with his force.

It really was unfair, the way he was fucking you. You didn’t stand a chance against him, not finding a single opportunity to gain the upper hand, left only to meet his thrusts with reckless abandon as you moaned with each moment he filled you. You liked it, though, being at his mercy. You trusted him, strangely. You could probably get used to this.

He’s stronger than you thought possible, his grip on your thighs surely bruising you as you writhed and arched your back at a particularly delicious sensation within you. You couldn’t help but close your eyes, completely lost in the rhythm and harshness of the snap of his hips. He bared his teeth as he fucked you harder. Faster. Tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the intensity. And then his hand was over your mouth, his eyes off you for the first time since this dance began. He was scanning outside the open window, watching a car come down the street, thinking it could be the rest of the group. That didn’t mean he stopped fucking you. In fact, it only got more intense.

“That’s right. Fucking take it.” he was back to looking down at you and your wide eyes, burying himself so deep inside you, you were sure he was ruining you entirely, “that’s it, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” Except he didn’t pull his hand from your mouth, smirking as you attempted to speak anyway, your mind too gone. That is.. until he slid himself fully inside, grinding his hips against yours. You moaned out loud, sure that the neighbors have heard you by now, your walls squeezing around him and feeling the drag as he pulled his cock out entirely.

“On your knees,” a simple order, and yet your brain was static. You blinked up at him before shaking away the fog and turning yourself over, wiggling your ass in his face just a little. His growl shook you, two strong hands grabbing hold of your ass and squeezing.

“Love this ass. Always loved this ass. Estuve soñando al respecto,” he kept squeezing, spreading you and groaning at the sight. You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, giving it another shake in his face. Suddenly, you felt teeth on flesh, letting out a yelp that quickly became a satisfied sigh, your head dipping down past your shoulders. Somehow, you didn’t expect his hand to come crashing down on you, the slap against your ass ringing out in the empty house. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, too immersed in the moment to acknowledge anything but the way your back arched and your chest created the most depraved noise you’d ever heard.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Another slap, you gripped at the bedsheets to keep yourself grounded, “you like being treated like a whore?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered involuntarily, nearly slapping your own hand over your mouth at the realization of what you’d said.

“What.. did you just call me?”

“Nothing…”

A ruthless slap, “Tell me.”

You sobbed at the impact, “sir.”

The growl in his chest shook you, and with little warning his cock was pressing to your folds once again, sliding in with ease and setting a brutal pace right off the bat. You dropped to your elbows and arched your back, eyes closing as your head once again dropped. Of course, he took advantage and leaned over you, one hand finding the back of your head and pressing you down into the bed, holding it there. He slapped your ass with the other, laughing when you moaned into the mattress. It left the prettiest pink handprint, he almost wished he could get a picture of it.

You couldn’t believe the way he was fucking you. Like— like a whore, just like he said. You’d think he’d be gentle with you, being your first time together, that he’d want to show you how worthy he was of your pussy. In a way, he was showing you that. He was showing you his worth by fucking you absolutely stupid, and you were loving it. So much that you weren’t far from another climax, feeling your walls tighten around him, dragging such a beautiful sound from him. His hand found your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your head off the bed. You cried out, steadying yourself on your hands. It was overwhelming, every sensation he subjected you to, to the point that you felt completely delirious with pleasure, all sense of control lost. You fucked yourself sloppily back on his cock, his fist pulling tighter on your hair. The tears pricked your eyes again, eyes whiting out.

“Ohhh fuck, are you coming? You filthy little—” he didn’t finish, groaning as your cunt rhythmically clenched around him, his own thrusts growing more erratic. You didn’t even hear him praising you with little ‘good girls’ and whispers of how good you feel, your head clouded with the sounds of your own depravity. You rode out your orgasm for what felt like hours, nearly collapsing as your body ceased quaking.

Your brain was working in half time, barely registering that he was still fucking you slowly, trying to bring you back to reality. You tried to speak, but the words were completely incoherent.

“Need a minute,” you finally mumbled, reaching back and grabbing his hand that rested on your hip. He obliged, pulling out and laying down beside you, pulling you into his arms. Your breath caught gradually, your mental faculties growing stronger by the second despite your throbbing cunt. You sighed contentedly, leaning up and kissing him for just a moment. You had your own ideas, now, and one in particular overtook your thoughts.

You kissed him again, grabbing hold of his cock, still slick with you. Your hand stroked him softly as you shifted down the bed, timidly tapping his leg as to ask him to open them. He did so, and you climbed between them, licking your lips as his cock bobbed in anticipation. You took him hungrily into your mouth, not bothering to tease, too eager to feel him.

Now it was your turn to show how unfair you could be, expertly taking him deep into your throat, holding there until you choked. Immediately, he was gone, head falling back on the pillow until he realized he would rather watch you. Your hand assisted your bobbing head, using your tongue to lap at every vein and ridge of his perfect dick. His groans and words of encouragement and yes gatitas only fueled you, giving everything you had to taking him. You almost wanted him to cum right there, to lose all composure and fill your mouth. He had other plans, however, pulling you by the hair off his cock and admiring the fucked out look on your face.

“So fucking pretty,” he mused, pulling you up to him and kissing you. It was all a ploy, of course, and you let him guide you to straddle him, your hips hovering just above his waiting cock. He ordered you to look at him, your brain already to fuck drunk disobey, eyes fixed on him as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Go ahead, take it all,” he couldn’t help but grin, brow furrowing in pleasure as you did just that, your own face mirroring his. It was almost too much, almost. Getting your balance, you slowly began to bounce on his lap, leaning on his shoulders for leverage. From there it was an endurance test, the pleasure of riding him only tainted by the strain it put on your knees. Still, you continued, his hands finding your hips to help bounce you on his lap, mewling when his hand crashed down on your ass.

You loved having the power. Loved watching his face twist in pleasure as you grinded your hips down onto his. … and you loved that it took little effort for him to suddenly flip you onto your back once more, placing your legs up around his shoulders as he sunk back into you. Every thrust was slow now. Powerful. So much so that each one knocked you back into the wall. It didn’t matter, you were too delirious by the way he was abusing that little spot inside you, seeing stars as you looked up at his concentrated face.

It was close, again, a climax brewing in your core that nearly overtook you the moment you felt it. Your sighs and moans became whines, hands gripped the sheets below you as he just continued with each knock of his hips to yours, folding you up as he leaned forward and somehow sunk impossibly deeper inside you. You pleaded to him, begged him, did everything you could to encourage him to keep going, please. Just another minute. ‘I’m so close’. But he didn’t even have time to stop, the wave crashing over you as the last ‘please’ left your lips and all you could hear was ringing in your ears and the sound of him grunting through each perfect squeeze of your walls around him.

And suddenly you heard something new. A breathy sort of noise intermixed with ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ as his thrusts grew less calculated. Almost sloppy. His hips jerking with every thrust until he couldn’t stall any longer.

“Come on, Papí. Come for me…” you breathed, certain you were tearing the sheets at this point while your cunt pulsed around him, still coming yourself.

Papí. That was all it took for him to fill you, painting your walls as his fingernails dug crescents into your thighs. You laid there, chest heaving as the two of you shared a blissful moment, eyes locked in the realization of what had just happened. And then, as if to dispel the little voice of worry in the back of your mind, he let your legs down gently and climbed up beside you, taking your face into his hands and kissing you. It wasn’t a particularly passionate kiss, but it was perfect for that moment. Perfect enough to ease that budding anxiety.

“We should do that again…” he whispered into your ear, breaking the tension in the air as you burst into a laugh.

“I was thinking the very same thing.”

——

Friends who asked to be tagged: @melisabesurviving @bbygirlnessa18 @missfamilyjeweles @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @thealliasylum @romanreignkisser

#damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest smut #damian priest fanfiction #punishment martinez

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tvgals · 1 year

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‘THE OTHER WOMAN…WILL ALWAYS CRY HERSELF TO SLEEP.’

synopsis- what happens when the other woman is eren’s girlfriend?

cw- black reader, eren is an actual asshole (only to his poor girlfriend), eren is a sucker for his golden girl, eren’s girlfriend actually has a name, modern au

- taglist ! <3 @pnkfae @lovereren @xocreedvo @pixiechixks @sugarvenomlit @vib3zwithtutu @supernovss @pinkfryday @radicaledward55 @chickenalfredo1312 @skit-brentfaiyaz @yoncewife @lovelyyceleste @bimbokutos @slut444eren @sanrioglocks @chxriee @cafesho @percsane @itmightbejo @maxi8898 @saintsyx @lovelyybrii @laylasbunbunny

jeal·ous

/ˈjeləs/

feeling or showing suspicion of someone's unfaithfulness in a relationship.

eren walks into his shared apartment an hour and some change after he said he would arrive home. his girlfriend presumably in their bedroom. “home.” he weakly says, as if he doesn’t want to be known or bothered. his girlfriend basically runs out the bedroom and hugs eren, almost toppling over. “get off of me.”

“hey rinnie! where were you? i was waiting for you all day!” belle giggles, her brown curls swaying with each movement. belle was eren’s girlfriend. was. before she found out the news of course. “don’t call me that. and i was out shopping with y/n.” eren says mundanely, kicking off his slides and pulling his sweats up. “but you let y/n call you that all the time…why can’t i?” belle asks, her doe eyes looking up into eren’s cold green ones. “you’re not y/n, are you?” eren asks, a smug grin on his face. “i’m gonna go take a shower.” with that, eren walks past belle without a second thought and slams the bathroom door shut.

eren sighs, taking his bun out of the hair tie he borrowed from you and took his hoodie off, revealing the kiss marks on his neck. he grabs his phone and hits your contact.

‘miss ya baby. needa see you again.’

eren sits and waits for a response, turning the shower water on in the meantime. it doesn’t matter how much he runs since belle pays the water bill.

‘miss you too rinnie :(( i’m off tmrw come over then?’

‘bet.’

eren smiles to himself, he doesn’t care he’s cheating, frankly, he doesn’t care about the woman he’s cheating on either. sure, he loved her for a few months in their relationship, but when he saw how much you’d changed in your freshman year of college, he snapped. “eren? can i come in?” the muffled voice of belle rings from the other side of the door.

“what is it.” eren groans, taking off his sweats and boxers in one swift movement. belle opens the door and pokes her head in, eyes growing wide at eren’s naked body. “i just…was wondering if you had ate yet? and if you wanted something to eat..” she grins, walking fully into the bathroom, her midnight blue lingerie hugging her body. “mmm….” eren hums, he almost pities her. the fact she thinks he would ever have sex with her. the fact that she thinks he would enjoy it. but hey, there’s a first time for everything.

“cmere baby.” he coaxed her over, trying his hardest to imagine it was his golden girl y/n. belle struts over to eren, biting her lip seductively. eren grabs her by her hips and kisses her, her lipstick tasting bitter on his lips. a stark contrast to your fruity lip gloss flavors. his hands roam, trying to find a comfortable spot. he tried resting them on her ass, not feeling the same as yours. he then tried her waist, then her thighs, but whatever he did, he just couldn’t get it right. belle pulls way from the kiss, saliva connecting their lips like a bridge. her eyes scan eren’s face. while observing his gold stud earring, she notices them. the dark red lipstick stains on his neck.

“eren..where’d you get those from?” she asks, pulling away from him. “what?” eren knows exactly what she’s talking about. “the..the marks on your neck.” she stutters, arms falling flat to her sides. “huh? you put those there. remember?” he asks, walking towards the shower. “no i didn’t..we haven’t had sex in like…three months!” belle says, crossing her arms while watching eren’s silhouette in the shower. “that doesn’t mean we don’t make out.” eren says blankly. he hears the pitter patter of her steps, stopping near his phone. she starts talking, but this time obviously louder.

“are you gonna watch the oscars with me tonight?” she asks, typing the password into eren’s phone. it worked. why is it on do not disturb? “ehhh maybe. told y/n i’d watch it with her so maybe not. might just call her.” he sighs. searching for his shampoo. “yeah?” eren knows exactly what she’s doing. “yeah. also, i’d rather not have you go through my messages. what you’ll see is gonna hurt your feelings.” he warns, although he already heard belle’s sniffling. “why is y/n’s contact still in your phone?” i thought i told you to delete it?” belle says, tears welling in her big brown eyes.

“you did, i just didn’t want to.” he confesses, turning around so he’s facing the wall opposite to the shower head. “why don’t you ever listen to me? is this why you’ve been coming home so late? because of y/n?” belle asks, sitting on the toilet lid. “sometimes, yeah. not like we’re doin’ anything though. jus’ shopping and shit like that.” eren shrugs, eyes practically glued shut to prevent the water and shampoo from getting into his eyes.

“shopping? eren, you never go shopping with me!” belle whines, throwing eren’s phone back on the counter. “yeah because you never go anywhere that i wanna go. y/n is genuinely interested in the things i am.” he says, turning off the water and stepping out the shower, drying his hair before wrapping the towel around his waist. “so why are you with me huh? because i’m pretty? because you think i have a nice body? is that it? are you just using me?” belle accuses, now she’s standing up and searching for her bath robe.

“no. you’re nice to have around.” eren admits, walking into their shared bedroom. belle trudges behind him, continuing the conversation. “oh. okay…well..we can atleast sleep together tonight? instead of you falling asleep on the phone with y/n on the couch?” belle asks, laying on her side of the bed, the cold sheets raising goosebumps on her pale skin. “sure. if it makes you feel better.” eren pulls a hoodie out of the dresser and a pair of sweats. eren then turns the light off and rolls into bed with belle.

“goodnight eren. i love you.” belle whispers. “night.”

eren wakes up the next morning, eyes crusted over and watery. he looks to his right to see belle, facing away from him. thank god. eren searches blindly for his phone, sighing when i finally gets ahold of it. pressing the screen, the time read; 12:56 eren knows you’d be up by now so he texts you.

‘good morning pretty’

‘eren what the fuck is wrong with you?’

his hands freeze. what did he do this time?

‘what? what happened??’

‘don’t come back bro. omm you know wtf you were doing.’

eren was filled with confusion. what did he do? what happened? could he make this better? why was his golden girl being so rude? so, eren calls you. rinnggg…ringggg…rinnggg.. you finally pick up, the top of your forehead and your pink bonnet only being visible. “what the fuck do you want bro.” you growl, you voice sounding full and stuffy. you’ve been crying. “what are you talking about? i ain’t do nothing.” eren defends, now sitting up in the bed. “bro you know what the fuck you did. what normal fucking woman eats apples and ketchup, huh?!” and with that, you hung up and threw your phone across the room. you curl up against yourself in your bed, tears welling in your eyes once again.

“apples and ketchup?..” eren whispers to himself. eren sighs and flops backwards onto his bed, emerald eyes staring up at the ceiling. what was he to do? his golden girl wants nothing to do with him now, and he’s stuck with a woman who’s infatuated with him. “dammit.” eren whispers, rubbing his eyes in drowsiness and stress. eren looks over, belle’s now flipped to where she’s now facing eren. he’s never genuinely looked at her face before..all of her end of winter freckles, her eyelashes and bushy eyebrows, her pinks lips in a somewhat pout. belle was pretty..really pretty..almost model type pretty- enough to be on the covers of the gas station magazines. “y’ so pretty…” eren mumbles, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. eren would be a damn fool not the make the most of her while you’re mad at him. eren hops out of bed and looks back to his phone — just to see if there was a text from you — and he walked to the bathroom, sighing. he grabs his toothbrush and slides the drawer out, picking up the toothpaste. when the toothpaste was in his hand, the empty spot revealed a polaroid of you and him in a photo booth. technically, the apartment was eren’s and belle ended up joining him, the two of them splitting up bills. this means all of his previous belongings and pictures from you and him he’s had to put away by the pleads of belle. he just wishes he knows what he did.

“eren?” belle calls out from the bedroom. “yeah?” “y/n is calling you.” eren almost runs to the bedroom, picking his phone up and answering it, just before the last ring sounded. “eren.” you sniffle. “what’s wrong? what happened?” eren questioned, his brows furrowed.

“i’m pregnant. and i know it’s yours.” you mumble into the phone. “what? well what do you want me to do?” eren says, looking over to belle. “i want you to come over and help me fix this shit. or i swear to god i will tell belle everything.” you threaten. “alright alright. give me ten minutes and i’ll be over.” eren promises, now walking to the front of the apartment. belle can’t help but flop back onto the bed. she’d just woken up and now her boyfriend was leaving her…again. she just couldn’t stand the relationship you two had with one another. you were just so pretty. you and eren had been friend since before eren even knew belle, this entire situation felt…suspicious? was that the right word? belle heard the door shut and sits up in the bed, searching for her own phone. meanwhile eren was just getting in his car, still on the phone with you,

“why the fuck would you do this shit eren? are you trying to spite me? trying to do this to get back at me in some way?” you shout over the phone. eren can’t help but feel awful. you’re HIS golden girl, he loves YOU — and he’s never wanted you to feel any other way. “i’m pulling up right now. unlock the door.” eren warns, hanging up the phone. he pulls into your driveway and climbs out the car, pushing his phone into his pocket. eren can see you leaning onto the doorframe — you biting your lip.

“hey sweets.” eren greets, stepping into your neatly decorated home. “eren…please. i cannot do this alone. i’ve told you so-…” you cut yourself off, pulling eren by his wrist to come inside, him kicking the door shut. the two of you make it to your room and sit on your bed, hand in hand.

“eren…” “hm..”

“why did you do this? to me?” you ask, biting your lower lip expecting the worst. “i didn’t mean to. honestly.” eren replied, pulling you closer into a hug. you can feel the tears well in your eyes. again.

“you know i’ve always wanted a family, how i wanted someone to live with forever. you have a girlfriend, a really nice one, and i don’t know if you genuinely love her or not, but if you do you need to tell me. if i have this baby in the next eight months and you’re not here to support me or the baby, you’ll never hear from me again.” you swore, biting your tongue waiting for a response.

“i don’t know what to say. i love you so so much y/n, i really do. i want this with you, i want you…just…give me a few days, okay? i need to tell belle..” he whispers into your damp - tear soaked bonnet. “please hurry.”

an: not finished, just wanted to get this out before i forgot about it forever, thank you for the support on this and if this flops i’m deleting it 🤞

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year

Text

Lavender - Ch. 27

A trip to the clinic with Ellie goes awry. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-26 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon typical threats of violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only!

Length: 5.4k

You grabbed Ellie by the shoulder and pulled her inside, ducking your head out the door to make sure no one saw. You kept your hand on her, steering her to the kitchen table.

“Here, sit down,” you said gently. She just nodded. “Are you thirsty? Hungry?” She shook her head. You got her a glass of water, anyway, and put it in front of her. She chugged it. “Ellie? It’s OK. I’m not going to let you turn, OK? If you are… I can promise I’ll make sure it’s not that bad. But that’s still if. Understand? We’re still at if.”

She just nodded.

“Can I look at it?” You asked. She nodded again. You tugged her sleeve up and flipped on the light over the table so you could see. You looked at her arm, running your fingers over the telltale signs of cordyceps beneath her skin. But they hadn’t spread far and the bite…

“Ellie,” you said quietly. “You’re sure you were bitten by an infected?”

“Yeah, pretty fuckin’ sure,” she said, then she winced. “Sorry.”

“No, this is an appropriate time to swear,” you replied. “When… when were you bitten?”

“Last week,” she said. “Doc…”

You ran your thumb over the partially healed wound.

“More than two days?” You asked, looking up at her. The wound definitely looked like it was older than that, at least. She nodded. “You’re sure?” She nodded again.

“I kept waiting to go crazy,” she said, her voice thick. “I knew it was supposed to happen but it never happened, nothing ever happened why didn’t it happen?”

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. “I’ve never seen anything like this…”

You thought for a moment, looking at the girl in front of you. She was terrified. By all rights, she should be. By all rights, she should be fucking dead - or as close to dead as a person can be. But she wasn’t. And you weren’t about to let FEDRA kill her because they didn’t understand what was happening with her.

“OK,” you said, taking your hands off her arm. She pulled it back against her body, cradling it with her other hand, looking down at the marks. “I have a plan.”

“Are you going to shoot me?” She asked.

“No,” you shook your head. “Not going to shoot you. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you get to live a long, healthy life, OK?”

“OK.”

You nodded once, getting up and going to your stash of trauma equipment that still lived in your apartment, just in case Joel or Tess showed up needing stitches in the middle of the night. You got out a wrap.

“First thing’s first, make it so we can move you without anybody freaking out,” you said, sitting back down and nodding to the table. She stretched her arm out and you quickly wrapped it so it looked like she might have a broken arm or a sprained wrist. “The last thing we need is some asshole guard seeing that and shooting you on sight.”

“We’re going somewhere?” She was watching you.

“The clinic,” you said. “Give me two minutes to put on something besides pajamas…”

You went to your dresser and grabbed a t-shirt, pulling it on over your tank top. Then jeans, on over your shorts.

“Why the clinic?” She asked. “I thought…”

“I’ve been working on a treatment,” you said. “The drug I was trying to make would do what you seem to be doing all on your own - stopping the cordyceps from spreading. What I was working on would only be temporary. I’m not sure about you and I don’t want to risk it so we’re going to go there, I’m going to numb you up and I’m going to take all the cordyceps out of your arm before the end up on the move again.”

“You think it will move and get into my brain and…”

“I have no idea,” you cut her off. “I’ve never seen anything like this, I don’t think anyone has. But I’d rather not take risks with you, so we’re going to just pull it on out before it can.”

You moved your couch a bit and got into the loose floorboard. You pulled out your pistol, some ammo and a few handfuls of ration cards.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to shoot me.” She sounded scared. You looked over your shoulder and smiled a little. You hoped it was reassuring.

“Gun’s not for you,” you replied. “We’re going to be out after curfew, it’s dangerous, I’d like to make sure I can bribe or kill anyone who tries to touch you.”

You put the floorboard back and moved the couch and grabbed the keys to the clinic off the hook by the door.

“Stick close to me,” you said. “If anyone stops us, stay behind me and let me do all the talking, do you understand?”

She just nodded. Her eyes were wide. You put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” you said. “I’m going to take care of you and you’re going to be OK, Ellie.”

“OK.”

Ellie listened and stuck close to you, following your directions as you slunk through the QZ. You were getting close to the clinic - close enough that the tightness in your chest has started to ease. You almost didn’t see them in the shadows.

“Hi Doc.”

You froze, throwing your arm out and tucking Ellie behind you. Marlene stepped out from an alleyway, smiling.

“Marlene,” you said. “You’re out late.”

“So are you,” she said. “Not usually your thing. Even when you go outside the QZ you tend to respect curfew.”

“You go outside the QZ?” Ellie whispered. You hushed her.

“Can I help you with something?” You asked her, the hand not holding Ellie behind you drifting for your gun. “We’re just heading to the clinic…” You scrambled for a name. “Veronica here is a student of mine, she got hurt. Trying to help her out.”

Marlene laughed once.

“Veronica,” she shook her head. “Well, you and Veronica are coming with us.”

“No,” you grabbed the gun and pulled it out, leveling it at her. There was the distinctive sound of metal from the darkness behind her. “We’re not.”

“Doc,” Marlene walked forward. You kept the gun up. “We both know you’re not a killer. Besides, we’ve got you outgunned and I doubt you’d win even in a fair fight. You usually need your attack dog at your back.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you snapped.

“Yes you do,” she said. “We won’t hurt you. Or her, since I imagine that’s what you’re more worried about.” You kept the gun up. Your heart was pounding, your legs shaky. “C’mon. Even he’d have a hard time with these odds. You’ve got no hope. Put the gun down.”

You glanced over your shoulder.

“She stays with me.”

“For now,” she shrugged. “Sure.” You opened your mouth to argue but Marlene cut you off. “You don’t have room to argue here. Either you do what we ask or we shoot you, it’s that simple.”

You lowered the gun, glaring at her. She held her hand out and you put the weapon in her open palm.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “Always liked you the best of all of them. You were always the reasonable one.”

“Just not the dangerous one,” you said flatly.

Marlene laughed again.

“No,” she said. “No, you’re not that.”

You brought Ellie forward and tucked her against your side, your arm around her.

“You leave the QZ?” She asked. “Who’s the dangerous one?”

“Not now,” you said quietly.

Armed men flanked you and Marlene led the way, running from shadow to shadow. At one point, you heard what sounded like a FEDRA patrol and you went to yell but Marlene put your own gun against your head.

“I will fucking shoot you,” she said. “Besides. Do you really want to know what FEDRA would do with her? Especially without you there to look out for her?”

You stayed silent.

Marlene brought you to the building you’d gone with years ago with Tommy, to the meeting where she told you about the hope for a cure. You kept Ellie tucked against your side until Marlene brought you to an interior room a few floors up. The men stayed outside. She closed the door.

“What’s below the bandage?” She asked.

“Broken wrist,” you said, moving Ellie behind you now. “I was taking her to the clinic for X-rays and so I could set the bone. I put her in a splint for the trip.”

“You were breaking curfew over a broken wrist,” Marlene smiled a little and shook her head. “I’m surprised you didn’t become a better liar given the company you’ve kept…”

“It was just business,” you said.

“Tommy was just business?” She asked. “Sure he’d be surprised to hear that.”

“What do you want with us?” You asked. “If you’re hoping for some kind of leverage with Tommy or Tess or Joel because you have me, your intel isn’t very good, they couldn’t care less if you put a bullet in my head and left me here.”

“Not interested in you or them,” she said, watching the girl behind you. “I’m interested in your student. And the bite that’s on her arm.”

You reached behind you and found Ellie’s wrist, holding it tight.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said.

“We’re not going to hurt her,” she said. “Not unless she turns. But I think we both know that probably isn’t going to happen. Don’t we?”

“Doc,” Ellie sounded scared. You shushed her gently.

Marlene knocked twice on the door and armed men came back in, going for you.

“No!” Ellie screamed. “Don’t hurt her!”

They wrenched you away from her, you clinging to her as long as you could before they ripped you free. You planted your feet, making them have to drag you. The second your feet were off the ground, you went limp, making yourself a dead weight, the men straining to keep ahold of you.

“We’re not going to hurt her,” Marlene said. “This is a precaution. We need to monitor her alone….”

“Leave me with her!” You yelled, straining again, shocking the men who were trying to carry you enough that you could squirm free for a moment. “I don’t care if it’s a risk, just leave me with her.”

“Doc,” Marlene shook her head. “Do you really think I’d risk the mind of the one person we know of who’s been able to make any progress on treatment for cordyceps?”

You just stood there, blinking at her.

“You were never going to shoot me,” you said.

“No,” she smiled. “I’m surprised you hadn’t figured that out. But then, I’m a better liar than you.”

Tuesday, August 29, 2023

If you were Joel, you could probably figure out a way to kill someone with a tennis ball. You probably could if you were Tess, too, but Joel, you figured, definitely could. If you were Tess or Joel, the stupid Fireflies never would have trusted you with a tennis ball.

You they trusted to not hurt a fly. Apparently.

You bounced the ball off the floor then and the wall and then the ceiling and caught it again. Thud. Thud. Thud. Catch. Thud. Thud. Thud. Catch.

Why they couldn’t have decided you wouldn’t hurt a fly with some books was beyond you but you settled for the tennis ball. It was better than nothing.

You’d basically been in solitary confinement for two fucking weeks. Your clothes were disgusting and the rest of you even more so.

Marlene had forced you to write letters of resignation to both your jobs so no one there would come looking for you. Andrew, you were sure, had noticed you were missing but if FEDRA thought you’d just dropped off the face of the planet, he wouldn’t have much help searching for you. There wouldn’t be much he could do on his own. Beyond work and Andrew and his family, there wasn’t anyone to notice or care that you weren’t there.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Catch.

Every day you got to spend a few hours with Ellie, at least. You were able to check in and see that she was OK, that she was getting fed, that she wasn’t being left alone with her thoughts. She always had dozens of questions. You tried to steer them back to things you knew the answers to and things that weren’t too personal. But she was stuck on one point.

“You left the QZ,” she said for the millionth time.

“I lived for 25 years outside the QZ you know,” you said. “When you’re old like me it’s not that special.”

“But you’ve been outside since then.”

You sighed. You were splayed out on the floor of the room she was being held in, Ellie sprawled next to you. They’d taken the chain off her today, which was an improvement at least. There was paint on the wall, part of the Fireflies’ slogan of sorts. ‘When you’re lost in the darkness.’ The irony was apparently lost on terrorists.

“Yup.”

“Are you a smuggler?” She asked, lifting her head enough to look at you. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s not nearly that exciting,” you replied.

“Sounds exciting,” she muttered, putting her head back on the ground. “More exciting than FEDRA school.”

“I left the QZ mostly to scavenge medications from pharmacies,” you said. “I’d make runs with a smuggling team but all I was doing was bringing in things like blood pressure medication. Once I made a run to Harvard to get medical journals. Why do you find this so interesting?”

“It’s kind of like finding out your teacher is a secret agent or something,” she said. “Plus, this place is boring as fuck, what the hell else are we going to talk about.”

“I could quiz you on the name of all the bones in the ear,” you replied.

“How is a smuggler this boring?” You could hear her smiling.

“Not a smuggler,” you smiled too.

“Marlene talked to me,” Ellie said after a moment. You turned your head to look at her.

“Buried the lead there, kid,” you said. “What did she say?”

“They’re moving me out of the QZ,” she said. “Tonight. They think… they think I’m immune. They want to use me to make a cure.”

You sat up.

“Did they say where they’re taking you?” You asked. She shook her head.

Your jaw twitched.

“What?”

“I have a friend who moved out west to work with the Fireflies,” you said. “He mentioned a lab out that way, he tried to get me to come with him out there…”

“Doc,” she said quietly. “Do you think… Are they right? Am I immune?”

Your eyes drifted to the place on her arm where you knew the bite mark lay below her sleeve.

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I think you might be.”

The door to the room flew open and Marlene and a woman you didn’t recognize ran in. It was the first you’d seen of her since the day you’d been brought here. You shot to your feet and stalked over to her.

“You’ve left a fucking child chained up and isolated for weeks!” You shoved her and she didn’t move to stop her.

“Not now,” she snapped, cutting you off. She looked between the two of you before focusing on you. “We’re cutting a deal here to get what we need to go tonight and they don’t know you’re here…”

“Who?” You asked. You weren’t sure if you were hoping it was Joel and Tess or hoping it wasn’t.

“Robert…”

“Robert?” You gaped at her. “That asshole? You have to be kidding me…”

“I thought you said you weren’t a smuggler!’ Ellie said.

“I’m not,” you replied. “I just know some and I’ve heard enough about Robert to know better than to try to do a deal with the guy, what the fuck are you thinking?”

“We don’t have a lot of options, OK?” Marlene snapped. “I came in here to ask you to keep an eye on her and stay hidden. I think you know well enough to know that we don’t need Robert knowing about any of this.”

“I’m coming with you,” you said quickly. “Tonight. When you move her, you bring me.”

“Doc,” Marlene shook her head a little. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to bring one of the few people on the fucking planet who would know what to do with a sample when we get one? You two are a package deal now.”

You laughed once.

“Good to know I was going to have such a say in the matter,” you said.

Marlene shrugged.

“Just keep an eye on her,” she said. “And… well.”

She didn’t need to say it. Protect her, if necessary. You nodded once.

You took Ellie to the far corner of the room from the door. You tucked her against the wall and put yourself between her and the door. She was stiff against you.

“It’s OK,” you said, watching the door.

It was not OK.

The shoot out was loud and you weren’t sure who won.

“What if they’re all dead?” She whispered.

“Then we’ll get the fuck out of here,” you whispered back.

You both waited until it had been quiet for what felt like a few minutes before you crept toward the door. Ellie darted around you.

“Ellie!” You hissed, reaching for her, but she was quick, pressing her ear to the door. You stood to the side, gesturing behind you. “Get away from there!”

She ignored you, putting her hand in her pocket and pulling out a knife and opening it before she ripped the door open and lunged into the hall. You heard her hit the wall with a sickening thud as you scrambled to follow her.

You froze in the doorway, Ellie on the ground at gunpoint.

“Joel.”

***

He was so surprised to hear your voice he damn near forgot he’d been jumped by a fucking kid in a hallway.

“Joel?” Marlene said.

He glanced her way, keeping his gun on the kid on the ground, before looking back at you.

“Don’t tell me you’re mixed up with this shit too,” he snapped. You’d fucking disappeared without a trace and you’d just been in goddamn Boston the whole time? “What, Tommy talk you into this?”

“This is who Robert screwed us over for?” Tess said. “The Che Guevara of Boston?”

She noticed you then.

“And of course you’re involved,” she said. “This day just keeps getting fucking better…”

“Hi Tess, nice to see you too,” you rolled your eyes.

“You know these psychos?” The girl on the ground gaped at you.

“Unfortunately,” you replied. He glared at you.

“Alright, cool it,” Marlene said, hand on her lower stomach. You frowned and started moving. Joel pointed the gun at you and you glared at him back, almost daring him to do it, like you almost thought he might be able to.

It was the first time he’d seen you since that night at the clinic. He’d never seen you like that before. Not even when dealing with raiders or infected. No, you’d reserved that wrath, that level of hate, just for him. It made him sick, that he’d dragged you to that point. That you felt that way at all. That he fucking deserved it.

He couldn’t even bring himself to fight you on it as you yelled at him. He let you scream, tried to hold onto you and you wouldn’t let him. He’d wanted to touch you so badly then, clutch your frantic, overwrought frame against him until you could breathe. He longed to be the thing that held you to the earth again, the stable body you turned to when everything else was spinning out of control. Instead, he was the thing hurting you. He had been, for years. He couldn’t seem to bring himself to stop, something in him always snarling and grasping and reaching for you if he wasn’t shoving you back and that snarling, grasping, reaching thing scared him more than almost anything else left in this world.

He’d almost hoped he’d never see you again, just so he wouldn’t have to face the cold detachment in your eyes.

Then Andrew showed up at his door a week earlier.

“What?” Was all Joel said.

“Look, I’m pretty sure the answer’s no but,” Andrew sighed. “Have you seen her?”

Joel frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean has she been here?” He said. “I haven’t seen her in almost a week. I’m checking everywhere…”

“She hasn’t been at work?” Joel frowned, standing up a little straighter.

“She sent in letters of resignation,” Andrew shook his head. “I don’t buy it…”

“She’s not with Derek?” He asked.

“They split weeks ago,” Andrew shook his head. “They haven’t even spoken.”

“When did she cut contact?” Tess asked, joining Joel at the door.

“Almost a week,” Andrew said. “She was at our place, everything was normal, and the next day she sent in the letters and no one’s seen her since. It doesn’t make sense, she wouldn’t just leave without saying goodbye…”

“Tommy stopped calling a few weeks back,” Tess shrugged. “Maybe she went to be with him.”

Andrew just set his jaw, shaking his head.

“Something’s wrong,” he said. “If you see her, tell her I’m looking for her. And tell me?”

“Yeah,” Joel said.

Andrew left and Joel closed the door, standing there for a moment before putting on his boots.

“You can’t be serious,” Tess groaned.

“He’s right,” Joel said. “She wouldn’t just leave, not without saying goodbye to them. Something’s wrong…”

“You think, what, someone who grabbed her off the street would make her write those letters?” Tess asked. “Because raiders are so concerned with their victim’s careers…”

“If someone doesn’t FEDRA breathin’ down their necks they would,” he said.

“Were you not listening to her?” She demanded. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you!”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. He glanced back at Tess. “I’m not leavin’ the QZ. Just… gonna ask some questions.”

“She went with Tommy,” Tess said. “He asked her to come with him when he left. My guess is she took him up on it and that’s why he stopped talking to you. He knew it’d piss you off.”

“He…” Joel ground his teeth. “Don’t matter. I’m just going to look around, ask some questions. That’s all.”

He went to your apartment first. He didn’t have a key anymore so he had to pick the locks but, thankfully, no one caught him

It was obvious you hadn’t been here in a while but it was also obvious something had happened when you left. Your bed was unmade, your side disheveled like you’d just gotten up. There was a used cup on your table and your medical kit was out. He went to your closet and saw your backpack was still there. He moved your couch and went into your floorboard stash. Your gun was gone. He frowned, standing up and putting the couch back before going and sitting on your bed. He was trying to retrace your steps when something caught his eye.

On your bedside table was the picture of him, you and Sarah from your hiking trip in New York. His hand shook as he picked it up.

As usual, his eyes started on Sarah. Absorbing as much of her as he possibly could. It was a relief, looking at her and feeling like he hadn’t let things slip. He still remembered the precise color of her eyes and the way her hair curled around her face. It was good that he still knew the constellations of the freckles on her nose.

Then, he moved to you. He’d spent more time than he cared to admit looking at the one photo he had of you since the day at the clinic. But this one was in color and you were looking at the camera and he hadn’t seen your eyes in so long. You’d been so happy here. All three of you had been.

Joel had a copy of this picture on his fridge in Austin. He sometimes wondered, idly, if it was still there or if someone had torn it down since he’d left. On the back, he wrote June 2002 and the words ‘my girls’ as though he’d have ever forgotten who either of you were to him.

He only glanced at himself, just long enough to wonder when the last time he’d been as happy as he looked here. He knew the answer, he just didn’t want to think about it. About what he’d had, about what he’d failed to protect.

He put the picture back.

He justified looking through more of your things as he tried to find any indication as to where you might have gone. If it had been to Tommy - doubtful, given that your backpack was still here - you’d probably have written some info down somewhere. You always brought a notebook with you when you went to the radio. If he couldn’t find it in a few minutes…

It didn’t take him long. It was inside your bedside table. There wasn’t much to it, just dates - going back decades now - to when you were looking for him. When he’d already given up on you.

11/2/03 - No news - J, S, T, C, J

11/5/03 - No news - J, S, T, C, J

11/9/03 - No news - J, S, T, C, J

The notebook didn’t shift until he and Tommy reached Boston. You missed a few days and then were back to a regular, now weekly cadence.

10/22/08 - No news - C, J

10/29/08 - No news - C, J

It looked like you gave up on Cassie around 2018 but had started regularly talking with Tommy in early 2016, about the time he made it out west. Your notes with him were simple. “T made it, found FF.” “T says lab is nice, asked again.” They appeared every other week. The last note you had from him was late July. It was the last note in the notebook at all. “T concerned. Things changing.” No mention of you going to join him. You hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, either.

He flipped through the notebook to see if there was anything he may have missed and a photo slipped out. It was the one of him with Tess. He’d seen it once in passing - you’d given a copy to Tess and she loved it. He didn’t think you’d have kept one for yourself but you had. The side of the photo with him in it had darkened over the years, like it had been touched a few too many times. He swallowed past the tightness in his chest and put the photo back in the notebook.

He’d given up on you before. He wasn’t going to give up on you now.

Joel asked around to some smuggler friends to see if anyone had heard from you, if you’d asked for passage. He was about to call it when one of his contacts mentioned a woman in her 30s - which Joel thought you’d pass for - asking for someone to take her to Kansas City in a hurry the week before. A friend had taken her and the friend wasn’t back yet. Joel described you and the man shrugged.

“I dunno man,” he said. “She had cards, friend had time. Could have been her.”

Joel just went back to Andrew’s.

“Anything that’d make her leave in a hurry?” He asked.

“Besides you?” Andrew replied. Joel glared at him. “Not that I can think of.”

“Somethin’ happened,” Joel said. “She left everything behind but I have a contact who might’ve taken her west…”

“Christ,” Andrew groaned. “She’s going to get herself fucking killed…”

“Already thinking of going that way to look for Tommy,” Joel said. “I’ll find her.”

Andrew looked him up and down.

“Never been quite sure what to think of you,” he said.

Joel shrugged.

“Not sure either.”

“About me?” Andrew asked.

“‘Bout either of us.”

Joel didn’t tell Tess why he was so desperate to get the battery.

And you’d been just a few miles away the whole fucking time.

“Doc,” Marlene said. “Stay by Ellie. I’ll be fine.”

Your jaw tensed but you stayed put.

“The fuck you need a car battery for?” Joel asked.

“Something that’s more important than finding your brother,” Marlene snapped. He narrowed his eyes and she shrugged. “We know things.”

“You should,” he snapped. “Your fault he’s gone.”

“Is it?” Marlene asked. “Not what I heard. I heard it had more to do with you.” He felt your eyes on him. Before Joel got a chance to argue with her, she kept going. “Doesn’t fucking matter, the product was faulty so you’d have been fucked without us interfering anyway.”

Marlene looked from Joel to you to Tess to the kid and she sighed, resigned.

“Here’s what we’re gonna fuckin’ do,” she said. “Because FEDRA’s about to swarm this place, we’ve got a team waiting to take her west and all of us need to get the hell out of here. You’re taking her to my team.”

“No way,” Tess scoffed.

“No,” Joel growled.

“I’m not going with them!” The kid said.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You snapped.

“Take get the kid and Doc to the statehouse and we’ll give you more than a battery,” Marlene said. “You can have the whole goddamn truck, anything you need to make the trip, it’s yours, it’s done. Just take her that far…”

“Do you have any idea how fucked it is out there right now?” Tess said. “I’m not hauling some fucking kid…”

“Why do you want to move them so bad, anyhow?” Joel asked, his gun still pointed at you. Your hands weren’t up as you looked a him, your eyes narrowed. Like you knew he wouldn’t shoot you. “Why’s she so important that you’re this fuckin’ desperate?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Marlene said. “To you, she’s cargo. Whatever you want, my guys at the statehouse will give it to you. Just get them there in one piece.”

“You know how they are!” You yelled, all but ignoring the gun Joel had on you. “You can’t trust them to get anyone who isn’t a goddamn mercenary anywhere safely, they don’t give a shit…”

“I know full well what they’re capable of,” Marlene said. “Which is why I’m asking.”

“They’re going to get her fucking killed!”

“No, they won’t,” Marlene was watching Joel. “Not with this deal they won’t.”

Tess jerked her head at Joel and they stepped to the side.

“Don’t trust her,” Joel said. “Not as far as I can fuckin’ throw her.”

“Yeah, but she’s desperate,” Tess said. “And Firefly gear…”

Joel nodded. It’d be solid.

“Clock’s ticking,” Marlene called.

“Not thrilled about dealing with Doc but we’ve hauled her further,” Tess said. “And if it gets her out of town, I can handle one more run.”

Joel’s jaw tensed but ignored Tess’ jibe. He just gave her a nod. She stepped back toward Marlene.

“They give us everything we want, no issues, or we kill the kid,” Tess said.

“Done,” Marlene said.

“What the fuck?” Ellie gaped at her.

“They’ll give it to them,” Marlene said. “You’re the most important thing now. They’ll give it to them. Go get your stuff.”

Joel picked his boot up off the kid’s knife and she grabbed it before she ran to you, glaring at Joel the whole way.

“Should’ve told Andrew you were fuckin’ leaving,” Joel growled at you. You just narrowed your eyes at him.

“We’ve gotta move,” Tess said. “FEDRA’s going to be here any second.”

The kid appeared next to you, looking up at you for approval and direction. You put an arm around her.

“It’s OK,” you said, giving her a tight smile. She looked back over her shoulder at Marlene as you and her followed Tess.

“Joel?” Marlene said. He paused, looking back at her. “Don’t fuck this up.”

He just nodded and the four of you headed out into the streets of the QZ.

A/N: So this is like the first canon thing we ACTUALLY see! Yayyyyyyy! Let me know your thoughts on how that worked if you'd like - I wanted to keep the vibe of this scene the same but not create a carbon copy of it because that felt boring. Since there's going to be a blend of canon/OC going forward, I'd love any feedback you have!

I have a taglist! If you want to be added (or I've missed adding you - so sorry if I have!!) comment below :D

Thank you thank you thank you for reading! Writing this has been so fun and going on the journey of this story with all of you has been one of my favorite things. Love you all!

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123@jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings@arizonadaydreamer@mumma-moonchild@blackroseguzzi@candypeaches16@kittenlittle24@wrappedinfiction@oatmeaiboy

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #enemies to friends to lovers

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papercupids · 1 year

Text

people we meet on vacation - jeong yunho

pairing -> jeong yunho x gender neutral!reader. (they/them used)

summary -> after bumping into what you call, the love of your life at a vaction once, you found that there was no way to find out more about him. 4 years later, when you've lost all hope, you finally find him and he's your boyfriend's bestfriend.

genre -> slice of life kinda (?), strangers to lovers.

warnings -> a bunch of curses, a tattoo, mingi is a real dick (sorry, had to be <3), it goes back and forth between the past and present a lot but its all labelled that's all though.

word count -> 4255 words.

a/n -> this fic isn't in anyway related or inspired by the book of the same name by emily henry, it's just that the title of the book went along with the fic's themes so i rolled with it :) a tiny, tiny part of it has been inspired by the first half of the bollywood movie, tamasha. and and, lastly, all the translations were taken from google translate so if you find any mistakes you know who to blame. ok bye, enjoy.

PRESENT, SEOUL, 2023.

“Are you ready, babe?”

Mingi calls out from the living room, tying up the laces to his boots. You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror and then called out in agreement.

“Let’s go,”

when you're in the car with him, you look out of the window, watching the daylight completely drown out slowly. and then you look at your boyfriend, who is focused on driving. you're both going to his friend's birthday dinner and since it’s only been about 2 months of you both dating, it is one of the first time you're meeting his friends, having heard a lot of great things about them already.

he notices you looking at him and gives you a smile before giving his full attention to the road again.

mingi isn’t a bad person, you know that. but for some reason, there has been no one who'd been able to catch your attention fully or make you stay for even a month. the 2 month mark with mingi was a huge thing for you.

But then you visibly wince when you remind yourself about the texts.

Never could you ever imagine that your tendency to never commit to anyone would bite you back in this form.

When you finally feel secure enough with someone, you find out that they’ve been cheating on you.

Mingi wasn’t a bad person, you convince yourself. It was just your karma.

when you reach the parking lot of the restaurant, mingi tells you to wait, he unbuckles his seatbelt and then gets out of his seat and slams the door shut and runs to get yours.

when you give him your hand, he kisses it gently, whispering a little into your ear.

"my angel looks so pretty tonight,"

and he holds out his arm for you to clasp yours into.

"ever the gentleman," you kiss his cheek.

as you enter through the glass doors of the hotel, you spot a lot of people, a bunch of foreigners going about, someone trying to check in, and people like yourself, here just for dinner.

"excuse me, what way is the banquet?" mingi asks on the front desk.

"oh, are you mr. kim's guests?"

"yes, yes,"

"straight from here, last room on the right,"

"okay, thank you,"

"___, can you go ahead? i need to take this call, i'll be there in 5,"

"let me wait for you?"

"oh, just introduce yourself, i really gotta take this,"

you were a little irritated (understatement) but decided to go ahead anyway, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?

and as you step inside the white tiled room with a huge chandelier in the middle, and golden lit lights, you think you might be dreaming.

no, not because of the ambience. but because of the person sitting there, looking up at you, as surprised as you were.

PAST, CURÇAO ISLANDS, SUMMER, 2019.

"who? what? why?"

"well, i don't know, i didn’t he would show up here when i told him we were coming here,"

"oh god,"

to say you were exhausted would be an understatement. your friend, jae-i and her "situationship" with the university playboy, kim sungwon was famous and you hoped that you could try to get her away from him during this vacation but turns out, old habits die hard. she claims she only told him that she was going for a vacation and apparently, he was here and "begging for forgiveness," because he deeply thought about how wrong his actions were.

"you know what, do whatever you want to, because to hell with our vacation, and don't you dare come to me when he breaks your heart again,"

you slam the door and get out. you weren’t that harsh and you did feel like you went overboard but she needed it. you would come back later anyway.

The bar was a couple blocks away from the cottage that you’d rented and it was right on the beach, a bunch of wooden chairs and tables and people enjoying their exotic coloured drinks, each one of them speaking in different languages.

Speaking of languages, you weren’t quite sure of dutch. You knew the typical “hallo (hello),” and “ik ben nieuw hier (i’m new here),” but the basics was where it ended.

“Um, hi,”

“waar kan ik je mee helpen (how can i help you)?”

“English?”

He made a disappointed face. “No english, de werknemer die Engels kent, heeft pauze (the employee who knows English is on break),”

With a mental facepalm, you realize you’d even left your phone and wallet back where jae-i was, and you had no intention of facing her, especially if there was a possibility that the asshole would be there, and there was no point in trying to order without money anyway.

“Nevermind, Bedankt (thank you),” he snickers at your accent but nods anyway.

“Oh no, no, let me get that for you,” a tall man, absolutely gorgeous, with the looks of someone who could easily pass off as a well known celebrity appears beside you.

“What do you want?”

“Its fine, i was just leaving,”

“Relax, i’m not a creep, just trying to help, you can pay me back later,”

“Oh, well, okay,”

A few minutes later, you and the handsome stranger were both seated on the wooden stools, he was taking in the sun without a lot of struggle since he brought sunglasses, meanwhile you, well, let’s just say it was a bad day for you.

a little away from the arrangement of chairs there was a live band, some music playing as a couple danced, and then later the others joined as the tune got more upbeat.

As you sipped on the oddly coloured drink you’d seen a lot of people drinking, he turns to you, “so what’s your story?”

“Ah, well, i came here with my friend thinking it would be a little time before she could be away from her shitty ex, but guess what? He’s here,”

“Interesting story, i mean, sucks for you, but, it’s a nice plot,”

“Is that so? What’s yours?”

“Not much of a story, my one of my friends is getting married in september and the other is going to take over as ceo of his father’s company after this summer so we all decided on this trip as something of a milestone,”

“It would get harder to meet after this so,”

“Oh got it, got it,”

"wait, we never exchanged names,"

“I’m yunho,”

“I’m ____,”

he gets up, "in my opinion, You know, what you should do? Enjoy your trip, not everybody has a chance to take a trip like this and you really can’t let your friend ruin it for you,”

You think it up. “Ofcourse,”

He asks for your hand as he puts down his own glass.

You’re almost about to slip your hands into his but then you hesitate, “but wait, don’t you have your own group of friends to worry about?”

“I think seven adult men can enjoy life without me. Besides, it’s not everyday I bump into someone like you or presented with an opportunity like this one.” he winks.

Far away, the sun shows signs of weakening and giving into the sea, the music that’s steadily shifting to more mellow tunes and the noise of the sea gulls.

Yunho takes your hand and guides you to the open space, a couple of people are dancing but the attention from the crowd focuses on you both as you laugh at yunho’s actions. He attempts to spin you and the crowd cheers at that, the beats become more and more danceable.

His hands are on your waist, and his eyes, those eyes. They stare right into yours as you dance. Even though you shrug it off with your laughs, you can feel the spark. And then he’s close, way too close to be with a stranger that you just met, and instead of facing him, you just lean your head onto his chest and close your eyes.

“Kiss already,” someone from the band shouts.

And then you look up at him, “what do we do?”

“Only if you want to,”

His words repeat in front of you again, “...it’s not everyday i bump into someone like you or presented an opportunity like this one,”

You close your eyes and reach up to him, it honestly catches yunho by surprise but it’s over almost as suddenly as it is initiated. A peck. But it was more romantic than any kiss he’s shared with anyone.

PRESENT, SEOUL, SUMMER, 2023.

"hey, you came with mingi right? oh my god, you’re gorgeous, how did he even score you? i'm wooyoung, by the way,"

"i'm _____," you blush, this man certainly knew how to make a fist impression.

"Where's mingi? is it his manners to leave his date alone?"

to which you let out a chuckle, "he got a really important call, he'll be here in a bit though,"

"let me keep you company then, and fulfill mingi's duty of introducing you to the others."

a few people are gathered on the far end of the table opposite from you and a few are sitting on the table already engrossed in a conversation except one of them who looks at you, eyes fixated.

“That is our friend yunho, san and his mate, milo.”

Yunho. Him. fate. There were so many things going in your mind right now, all of the memories, him paying for your drink, spending the entire day with him, forgetting that a thing like a mobile even existed, it was so funny that you both met again. There were almost zero chances, after you came back from your trip, you searched every nook and cranny of social media from whatever information you had of him, scanned every public setting, just in hopes that somehow, just somehow you bump into him again. And unfortunately, this is how you meet.

“Hey,” he extends his hand. Does he remember all of that? Given it was not more than even a day spent together, but it impacted you, did it impact him?

There was like an unspoken agreement to not mention that you’d met before, because you’d not seen a lot of his friends on the trip neither had they seen you nor had yunho ever seen jae-i, all because of that stupid agreement.

You try searching for recognition in his eyes, but mingi comes before you can try communicating with him even a little.

“Mingi! Dude, why’d you leave your date alone? Thank god i was around to help,”

Mingi looks at you, “so you’ve already met them, i see,” and takes your hand into his, and never have you ever wanted to pull your hand back from someone this badly, because you look at the subtle way yunho’s eyes flit to the clasped hands and he backs away.

“Hongjoong,”

The said person is too deep in conversation with someone yunho has never seen but has deduced that they’re most probably business partners.

He calls out to his friend again. And hongjoong looks at him, he mutters a “please,” and then steps away.

He’s careful not to be in the earshot of the group that wooyoung, mingi, you and san have created, they’re very curious to know you, someone mingi had been talking about for months, labelling his new date as his best ever.

“Oh, mingi’s here,” hongjoong notices as he steps to the side yunho is, “wait, yunho, i’ve seen-”

“Shhh, shut up, shut up, this is exactly why i brought you here, keep your mouth shut, mingi’s date, the one he’s been bragging about, is the person i fell in love with in the summer of 2019,” he releases his hand that he had been holding over hongjoong’s mouth.

he touches his elbow slightly, to remind his friend.

And the older guy doesn’t say anything.

“It’s just you who knows, so please, don’t tell anybody, and don’t let anybody know that you know them,”

“It’s just unbelievable,”

And hongjoong watches as they both look at you, he looks at the way yunho watches you. “I remember you being all miserable because you couldn’t find them,”

“Yes, it’s unbelievable but also unfortunate, i’d rather have they not met me at all than this,”

Hongjoong wishes he could have done something, but he doesn’t even know what to do. He wishes he could have taken his friend’s pain because it’s so cruel but he tries to cheer the other up instead, leads him to the dinner table and carefully diverts the conversation to anything but you and mingi.

PAST, SUMMER, 2019.

"and i'm supposed to believe that?"

"i swear, i've never done it,"

"you've never ever fallen in love?" the stranger you met at the beach is clearly in disbelief over the fact that you've never been in love. it's after dinner that you're again here at the beach, walking on the shoreline.

"i don't think it's consciously my choice, it's just something that happens, i become obsessed with a person, i think that its love but then it wears down as fast as it comes."

"uh huh, okay, so you won't fall in love with me?"

you look up at him, his face lit up by the different shades of colours, the streetlight on your left, the headlights of the cars speeding past, and the lightings that are decorated on stalls at some stalls. he looks absolutely gorgeous but more than that, there's something in his eyes, that makes you feel like you actually could. you could actually dream about a forever, and this time maybe even fulfill it. was that possible?

but the realization that you're probably never going to meet again sets in and he looks away too, thinking the same thing maybe.

"nevermind, i'm sorry,"

"wait, yunho,"

he'a already a few steps ahead of you when you stop him, he looks back at you with a questioning look as you point to at something.

"a tattoo?"

you nod.

"you want to get a tattoo with me?"

"there should be at least a little something that i can recognise you by if we ever cross paths again,"

he looks at you in awe as you walk over there, determined to get a tattoo, with or without him.

as he follows you, he knows something very clearly, he'll do whatever you want. even if he doesn't know you, he knows that he's had a feeling of love. not entirely falling but a fleeting kind of. He doesn’t pay much attention and without giving it much thought, follows you.

"hey, yunho,"

he turns back, spotting hongjoong at a little distance from where he was standing, his friend walks closer to him and he has a bag full of beer bottles, clearly leaving to refill the party with their friends.

"we've been looking all over for you, buddy,"

"uh, i've.. found a friend,"

"where?" he points to the tattoo shop where you're talking to the guy, and swiping through designs.

"that's great, dude, about time you find someone,"

“Yeah, and i hope y’all don’t mind it,”

He tsks in reply, “they’re all shitfaced, they probably won’t last for more than an hour or so, and that’s when i can finally drink,” he points to the beer bottles.

"hey," you call out from your place, and interested to know the stranger standing beside your new friend, you walk up to them.

"you're?"

"i'm hongjoong,"

“Nice to meet you, hongjoong,” you give him a smile.

"you're getting a tattoo?" he asks.

"if yunho agrees,"

"yunho, hmmm, you should go ahead, do it,"

"oh, wait, hongjoong is a great artist, he can draw something for us," yunho suggests.

"well, if you want me to,"

and about an hour later, there’s half a butterfly on the area above the elbow on your right arm and the same location on his left arm.

"well, that was painful," you say, gripping your covered arm.

"you think?"

"but well, now i have something to remember you by so i'm not complaining," he adds.

which makes the both of you go silent again.

you want to ask him his number, but something stops you. Looking back you’re not so sure of what held you back but you wished, wished so bad that you’d taken some number, some contact anything. Heck, even an email address would have sufficed.

But thinking that you can probably search him up on instagram or snapchat or something, you don’t bother about it.

"let's meet here tomorrow? you're here right?"

you ask him, curious to know if he's into hanging out for another day.

"ofcourse, i'm craving some pancakes for breakfast,"

"we got it! let's have pancakes tomorrow,"

PRESENT. SEOUL. 2023

"hey, i'm hongjoong,"

"oh, hongjoong,"

the man visibly pales over your mention of his name but you can't resist it, all of it is coming back to you in such a full swing and you can't even do anything about it, you should have just stayed home.

and then the tattoo, your bare arm left it being exposed, nobody would know its meaning but it just felt like an open wound right now and you wish you had some extra sleeves so you could just cover them up.

yunho is ignoring you, and as you are, too. but it keeps on poking you with a stick, the memory of all of it, and you shake your head, it was just a day, you cannot let it have so much effect over you. and it just killed you that you couldn't just drop mingi's hand and tell him that this was the man, this was the guy you had fallen in love with, for the first time and intensely and in the period of not even a day.

throughout the dinner, his friends keep trying to make you comfortable and so does mingi but every time he talks to you and you're forced to look away from yunho, it practically rips your heart apart and then the thought of going home and then again being apart from him. it just seemed like a nightmare.

hongjoong looked awkward as he tried his best to not let anything slip out of his mouth, he looked like a bad liar. and as you sit there on the dining table you realize that the guy who was getting married after the summer was hongjoong, and it was almost his 4 year anniversary soon. and the guy who was taking over a company was the obnoxious but sweet, wooyoung.

But yunho seemed different with them. When he was with you, that day, it felt like he would just about do anything without any remorse at all. And today, the tie around his neck felt too tight.

"excuse me, i need to go to the washroom," you needed some air.

"should i come?" mingi offers.

"i'll come too, i need to get some air, i'll help you find the way?"

the dining table doesn’t notice the way the air shifts around you both and mingi nods and carries on with his previous conversation with san but you walk up to the door with yunho walking behind you and keep walking until you've reached the far end of the corridor, where he pulls your hand to stop and then looks around and opens a door.

"that's a janitor's closet-"

"shhh," he quiets you down, there’s nobody who would hear you, but its just that he wants to look at you, quietly. think about that day again and again.

you look into his eyes again, the door has slits so the lobby lights spill into the room and parts of his are visible, including his eyes. the eyes you fell in love with, is that even possible, to fall in love with someone's eyes, or to fall in love with someone you just met for a day?

"why did you leave suddenly?"

"i-"

he places a finger on your lips, leaning towards you in the small, dark room filled with brooms and the smell of room freshners.

and his voice comes out as a whisper.

"i searched the entire island, all hotels, all the resorts, the airbnbs. there was not a single corner i hadn’t looked for you that day, where were you?"

"i had to leave, jae-i's family found out that she'd been with that jerk and they called us home immediately, and i tried finding you but i had to leave on the first flight that morning and i'm just so, so, so, sorry,"

he puts away his finger and sighs, "it's fine,"

"fate is such a bitch though,"

"you think?" you snicker.

"what do we do now?" he asks. a deafening silence follows.

"i'm going to leave,"

"again?"

you don't pay much attention to his comment.

"i'm going to get out of mingi's life because i obviously can't live with him knowing that i'm in love with one of his friends,"

"and what about us?"

you place a hand on his chest.

"there was no us, yunho, how can you even be with me like this? all we'll end up being is each other's worst secrets, i don't think i'd want that, i don’t think you would want that either."

he nods.

"you fell in love with me?"

"yes,"

his tears glisten with the light.

"i fell in love with you too, and that morning i was going to properly introduce myself, take you out on a proper date, tell you that my drunk self was just beyond crazy for the shit he'd pulled the day before. but i guess fate had other plans,"

A FEW WEEKS LATER, PRESENT, 2023.

a few weeks later, when he gets a text from mingi in the groupchat, yunho feels a stake through his heart even though it was his friend who just got dumped.

he's brushing his teeth, while he goes through the texts for the entire day. mingi writes, it's been days but i've been kinda busy so i just thought i'd let you all know.

and then a notification for a private group chat, something the others had a knack for doing when they wanted to spill some gossip on the recent event in the main group chat, this particular one was revived from last year's surprise party for mingi's birthday. so the gossip was about mingi.

it was san, "you know he deserved it, milo told me he saw him with some other girl in a hotel one day,"

Hongjoong : “really? He’s such a fool for doing that to y/n, they definitely deserve better,”

Now, that felt like a very personal jab.

The others express their opinion too, with wooyoung saying he kinda predicted it with the way mingi left you alone that day at hongjoong’s party and yeosang and some others concluding with “what can we do? It’s his life, hopefully, y/n is not hurt a lot,”

he facepalmed. why? why were the fates so fucked? was it possible any of his friends would have your number? would it be weird if he asked for the number of one of friends' ex lovers? god, the amount of bad luck he always seemed to have was astronomical.

Hongjoong called him right after the texts ended.

“You, my friend, have the worst luck in the entire world,”

“Shut up, don’t rub it in,”

he lays down on his bed, tired from the day. It was only 7 pm but he felt like it would be better if he just slept.

“We should have lunch tomorrow, by the way, my treat,”

“We’re not having a pity party for me, joong.”

Just then the doorbell rings. “Wait, hold on, i have a visitor,”

He puts the phone on the shoe rack and walks over to open the door. when he opens, he sees the white bag before he can figure out its you. because you've shielded your face with it.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,”

when you move it out and finally take a look at yunho's face, he takes a minute to register it's you.

and he grabs you into a hug as soon as he realizes. guess his luck isn’t that bad even.

Hongjoong, still on the call and listening over, is concerned for yunho. “Hello? Yunho? Who is that? Yunho??? Answer me? Is someone stabbing you?”

after he realizes he's almost blocking your windpipe and realizes it's rude to just cry in the looby of your apartment complex, he invites you in and properly takes a minute for his emotions to settle down.

Meanwhile, hongjoong has ended the call and resorted to calling again, so yunho can pay attention to his phone.

“Hello?”

“Oh my god, you’re alive,”

“I’m alright.”

And you walk over, looking at the caller ID, decide to introduce yourself, “hey, hongjoong, remember me? You drew my tattoo for me?”

“Yunho, what the fuck, man?”

“Don’t blame him, he didn’t know i was coming. And i stole his address from mingi, at least he was of some use,”

“Woah,” the older man is clearly surprised but then cuts the call after telling you both to not lose this chance and that he will talk to yunho tomorrow.

“So,” yunho says, you’re both in the kitchen, your white bag placed on the counter. “What is this?”

“We never got to have those pancakes,”

205 notes · View notes

senualothbrok · 4 months

Text

Promise

Summary: Gale learns what it means to love and be loved.

Sequel to Progress - a Professor Dekarios x OC journey through mental illness and recovery.

Word count: 7.9k

Disclaimers: Non-18+, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, mental illness and recovery.

Trigger warnings: Mental illness, eating disorder, body dysmorphia. Please practise self-care.

AO3 link

She looks happy.

She is smiling at you. You are lying in bed, facing each other. Sunlight streaks through your bedroom curtains as dawn breaks. You have to remind yourself that this is not a dream. She is really, truly here.

She closes her eyes as you run your thumb over her freckles, which fan out like stars over the contours of her face. Your fingers dance over her arm, the dip in her waist, the curve of her thighs. She does not shy away from your touch, nor try to hide her flesh from you. Her grey eyes quiver.

“I love you,” she whispers.

You cannot tell whether it is your tears or hers that linger on your tongue as you melt into each other.

---

You can still taste her salt and sweetness as you lie on your back, your arm curled around her as she nestles into your chest. She smells like lavender, soap, and sweat, and you cannot get enough of her scent as you bury your nose into her dark, damp waves. She is playing with the hairs that trail from your chest to your navel, and you shiver from the shadow of her fingers. She notices.

“It’s a new experience, having such an effect on a man. It’s quite…flattering.”

She looks up at you with a small smile.

You chuckle. “You don’t know half of the effect that you’ve had on me, Aurora. I’ve spent two years imagining this moment, and still, my fantasies scarcely touched the surface of the miracle that you are.”

She is blushing, shifting. You kiss her on the tip of her nose, where she has the tiniest scar. You are engraving her every mark on the shrine of your memory.

“So…” She clears her throat. “You’re saying that you’ve been lusting after me since the first day we met? Your eyes met mine across the lecture hall and you thought, ‘This is a maiden I long for’. One glimpse of me was enough to rouse the fire in your loins. Is that it?”

She is playful now, teasing. You are aflame with this new side of her that no one else has seen.

You laugh. “Perhaps I exaggerate. But if not two years, then twenty months at most. I fell in love with you very quickly, Aurora. Much as I resisted it, or denied it to myself.”

Her gaze is evasive now, as though she is embarrassed. You clasp her to you. You need her to know, to feel the truth in your words. She must understand what she means to you. What she has meant to you, all this time.

“I’ve been alone since Mystra cast me off. At times, it’s been immensely lonely. To meet you, a kindred spirit, a soul that touched mine so instantly … that happens very rarely in a lifetime, if at all. Let’s just say that my body and soul yearned for you like water in a desert.”

You do not tell her about the frenzy that so often overcame you, slumped over your desk or under these very same sheets, thinking of her. The appetites of a schoolboy that she restored in you, when those desires had been all but dormant. Some things are better left to the imagination.

She is quiet. You can feel the faint timbre of her heartbeat through your skin.

“These things fluster you,” you observe.

She nods, biting her lip.

“Why? Don’t you believe me?”

“No, Gale, it’s not that.” She shakes her head. “I just find it hard to believe that someone like you could feel that way about me.”

She takes a deep breath.

“When we first met, I thought I’d found my first ever friend. And even that, I struggled to believe. I didn’t want to admit to myself that… well, I didn’t know what love was. Besides, how could it be possible? You’re the best man, the most beautiful person, I’ve ever known.”

You have such an urge to answer her with your mouth, your tongue, your body. But she is hesitant, and you must wait until the doubt passes. You must help her understand.

“But that’s what you are to me, Aurora.”

A frown passes across her brow.

“You’re the one and only.”

You brush your lips over her forehead. She sighs, her features softening.

“Also,” you add. “Little things that you did drove me wild.”

Something glints in her gaze. “Like what?”

She presses herself closer to you.

“Too many to count. The way you bit your lip, for one. How delicately you turned the pages of every book. The way your face lit up talking about an illusion or a poem you loved.”

You can feel a familiar ache building.

“The way you widened your eyes when you looked at me. Like that. What you’re doing now.”

You thought you were spent, but you are already hardening. She runs her tongue over her bottom lip.

“So I’m driving you wild at this very moment?”

You move your mouth closer to hers. “Yes.”

“Well.” She tilts her head. Her hand begins to float downwards from your navel. “It would be cruel to stop at that.”

As you push yourself on top of her, she lets out a little moan.

---

“Are you sure I look acceptable?”

She is fussing at the waistband of her skirt, the buttons on her sleeves. She fidgets with her hair clips, smoothing and re-smoothing her bodice.

“Is this the sort of thing that your mother will expect? Or should I wear something more modest?”

You chuckle. “You’re hardly baring every inch of your flesh to the world, Aurora.”

“Is it too conservative, then? Should I-”

You move closer to snake your hands around her waist. She leans her forehead against your chest.

“You look perfect. Marvellous.”

“I don’t,” she murmurs.

“You’re breathtaking.”

You are playing with the fabric on her shoulder. It torments you, the trail of freckles that drifts down the curve of her cheek, disappearing on the edge of her neck, only to reappear on her collarbone and shoulder blade. Aurora’s freckles are like winding roads in an unchartered territory, waiting to be discovered. Instinctively, your mouth dips down to follow where they lead.

“Gale…”

She looks up, frowning.

“What are you doing?”

You are losing yourself. There is something about having her here with you, in the home that you have occupied for so many years with only Tara for company, readying herself to meet those you cherish most. You never thought such a thing would be possible. You are suddenly dizzy with love and desire. Your tongue swirls against her skin, yearning for more of her.

“Your mother and Tara will be here any moment.”

But you can hear how her breath is hitching. Her eyes are half lidded, her lips parted. That she cannot resist you only fuels your hunger. You slide your hand underneath her skirt. She trembles against it.

“They can let themselves in,” you rasp.

---

Morena and Tara cannot conceal their joy when they see you stumbling down the stairs. The flush on Aurora’s cheeks has not yet receded as you make introductions. It does not escape their eagle eyes, how you repeatedly clear your throats and smooth your clothes and hair. How you rub at your beard again and again. When Aurora bites her lip, the images that rush through your mind make you shift to find your centre. Morena and Tara glance at each other with glee as you sit, sipping at the lukewarm cup of tea that has been waiting for you.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Tara and Gale, dear.” Morena beams. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you at last.”

She clasps Aurora’s hand. Aurora’s eyes widen. She is surprised by your mother’s warmth, just as she was taken aback by yours. You remember that she has never known a mother to give anything but punishment.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mrs Dekarios.”

Morena huffs. “Please, let’s dispense with such formalities. You can call me Morena, and hopefully, one day, you’ll call me Mother.”

You choke on your tea, glaring at Tara as she tuts at you. Aurora strokes you on the back as you cough and sputter, trying to conceal her alarm.

“Mother,” you say when you can breathe again. “Will you have some cake? A cookie? Something to stuff your very empty mouth?”

“My dear son,” she chirps. “It’s so kind of you to worry over your mother’s happiness and comfort. In fact, it brings immeasurable joy to this old heart to see you in your current state. Just look at the two of you. Glowing, positively radiant, with love.”

She claps her hands together with a sigh. Tara joins in with a fluttering of wings.

“Now that I’ve seen you in person, dearest Aurora, I know that all of Tara’s reports are true. You and my son are perfectly matched. You’re a vision.”

Aurora’s cheeks are reddening. Pride surges through you as she speaks.

“That’s very kind of you to say, Mrs- I mean, Morena. Your son is an exceptional man. I’m very lucky to be here with him.”

She interlaces her fingers with yours under the table. You almost wish that Tara and Morena would leave now, so you can keep showing her how exceptional you can be.

Tara and Morena exchange a look. As if on cue, they flash their teeth in a grin.

“You are such a dear.” Morena titters. “Now, I hope you won’t take offence in me pointing this out, but neither of you are getting any younger-”

You bristle, raising a finger. “Mother, may I ask where you’re going with this?”

She pushes your finger down instantly. “My son, I was coming onto the future for the two of you. Tara and I have been waiting for years for-”

“Oh Gods.” You stand, waving your hands around. “Look at the time. I didn’t realise how late it was.”

Morena narrows her eyes.

“Mother, don’t you have an auction or something to hurry off to?”

“I actually-”

You stare at Tara. “And Tara, don’t you need to escort my dear Mother to her next appointment, to make sure she doesn’t get lost? She can be ever so disoriented these days.”

Tara arches her back.

Confusion and panic brim in Aurora’s gaze as it flits between the three of you. There is a long silence. You do not back down. Morena purses her lips and rises to her feet slowly.

“Yes,” she drawls. “I’m in an awful rush. I’m so grateful that you reminded me.”

You give her your sweetest, most innocent smile. You embrace her, kissing her gently on the cheek. She squeezes your shoulder.

“Come on, Tara. Let’s leave the lovebirds to their merrymaking.”

---

“Your mother is…”

“Difficult? Wonderful? Awkward?”

“I was going to say persistent.”

You laugh, whether it is from relief, amusement, or fear, you are not sure.

You are sitting on the sofa in the library. Her head rests on your lap as you untangle the braids from her hair. You had hoped that her first meeting with the inimitable Morena Dekarios would not be catastrophic. From the way that Aurora giggles now, you are reassured that it was not. Though whether this was solely owing to your premature termination of the meeting, you cannot say.

“She likes you,” you remark.

Aurora sighs. “I hope so.”

“It’s clear.” You chuckle. “You would know if she didn’t.”

She nestles further into you. You trace your finger up and down her jawline. How is it possible for a heart to feel so full? Perhaps that is what makes you feel brave.

“What did you think of Mother’s question?” You clear your throat. “About the future?”

She tilts her head. “That depends.”

“On what?” you ask, a little too quickly.

She pauses, and the sorrow in her smile wounds you.

“On how long you can put up with me.”

You pull her up into you. You kiss her so deeply, so desperately, that your flesh aches from where it has touched her. She is shaking when you come apart.

“I don’t want a future that doesn’t have you in it,” you breathe.

She pants into your lips. “Neither do I.”

---

There are good days, and there are bad days.

You expected this. The doctors and nurses warned you. You are prepared for the worst. You told them that nothing could phase you, and you are determined. You love her, and you will do what it takes.

You are an intellectual. You can measure things in the abstract, and see things with an academic’s remove. You know that the good days outweigh the bad days. You can see how she is changing, growing. You can see the chains which she is fighting to break.

Aurora has never lived with anyone but her mother. She has never known freedom, and it is a struggle to adjust. She has shed her glamour, and for the most part, she no longer hides behind the shroud of loose robes. She is full of passion and apprehension as she takes on management of Mr Serpentil’s bookstore. She supplements her income by hosting poetry and novel readings with elaborate shows of illusion. She is building a life for herself, which comes with as many obstacles as gains. There is laughter alongside her tears, hope alongside her despair. Her tenderness for you overflows between and beyond the sheets.

The doctors had wondered if it was too soon, if you were moving too fast. You have only known each other for two years, they warned, and Aurora’s affliction is not for the faint-hearted. Such challenges break even the strongest and most well-established relationships. You rebuffed them. You feel like you have known her your entire life, and you cannot waste any more time. You have suffered much, lost much, and you do not take anything for granted. You want to spend every moment with her.

You want to share everything with her, to bare your soul to her so completely that there are no more secrets between you. You tell her everything about your past, even the things that cause you grief and shame. You give your whole heart to her. It is the only way you know how to love her.

But there are times when the weight of her condition is crushing. When she hides from you, and cannot be touched. When she cannot speak of the fears that claw at her, and retreats to a place you cannot go. When she freezes at the dinner table, stifling tears that come later in bed, when she shrinks away from your embrace.

It does not touch your love, only your resolve.

You know that kindness can overcome the burdens that a person carries. You yourself had friends who stood by you when you were a walking apocalypse, a ticking time bomb. They never abandoned you. They did not leave you to die.

You know that knowledge is the weapon to face any challenge.

You must find a solution, a cure, for her affliction.

---

Birthdays are difficult for her. All they signify is the devastation of yet another wasted year. She has never celebrated them. Her mother certainly never bothered, beyond reminding her of her shame and failures.

So when her birthday comes, you decide to celebrate her as she deserves.

You do what you do best. You array the dining room with candles and floating orbs. You fill the room with the scent of flowers, covering the table with a velvet cloth of rich green, her favourite colour. You spend hours preparing a rich, three course dinner, making sure that you dress the plates just so. You set the piano playing songs that have made Aurora smile. You brim with nervous excitement.

Tara insists that you wear your deep blue doublet and shave your beard, so you look your best. You humour her by doing the former, but you ignore her latter suggestion. From the speed with which Tara leaves, you can tell she thinks this night will involve more than a simple birthday celebration.

When Aurora returns home from the bookshop, shock blooms on her face. You take her hand and lead her into the dining room, where she looks around in bewilderment.

“You did all this for me,” she breathes, her eyes dilated with gratitude and desire.

“Happy birthday,” you reply, drawing her close.

You stumble and sway as your mouths find each other’s. She tastes of peppermint and smells of sea wind. You come apart panting, flushed, and you pull away from her only so you do not burn the food that is cooking. You glimpse a spasm of anxiety on her face, so you pass her your gift as you make your way to the kitchen.

“Gale.” She takes the box from you. “You really shouldn’t have.”

She stands at the boundary of the kitchen door as she unwraps it. You have found first edition copies of the complete works of Lorazelle Staunth, one of Aurora’s favourite romance writers. It took you some wrangling, but you managed to convince a colleague, a distant cousin of Staunth’s, to get them signed by their author. It is difficult to focus on the gravy you are stirring as you watch her out of the corner of your eye. She gasps, beaming, turning each book over in her hands with wonder and reverence, murmuring to herself.

You grin. “You’re welcome.”

She strides into the kitchen, over the invisible border that she has always feared to tread. Your breath catches as she leans into your back and wraps her arms around you. She does not let go, even when you have to walk back and forth to gather the dishes together to serve. Nor do you have the heart to ask her to release you.

You have never loved anyone so completely. You have never felt such happiness.

When you eventually sit down to eat, you take for granted what it is that you are asking. It dawns on you, as her jaw clenches and she grimaces. She tries, so hard, smiling, thanking you, complimenting your efforts. Her cutlery clatters on her plate, her movements are laboured. She tries to follow the thread of conversation, even when her gaze glazes and her words become broken. But in the end, it is too much, and you know you have pushed her too far, too soon.

“I’m sorry,” she gasps.

When she retreats to the bathroom, guilt engulfs you. You leave the untouched dishes, blow out the candles, silence the piano. You follow her, standing outside the locked door, listening to her muffled cries. You want to ask her to let you in. You do not know what to do, what to say. You wait.

How could you have been so foolish, so thoughtless? How could you have caused her such agony? You, who have always taken pride in your wisdom, your keen powers of observation. You have pushed the woman you love off a precipice, because you were selfish and insensitive. She has every right to be angry. To decide that you love her poorly. That you are unworthy.

You should have known better. You must make it up to her. You must find a way.

“This is my fault, Aurora,” you manage. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I should have been more mindful… Please forgive me.”

The door creaks open slowly. Her eyes are swollen, her voice is hoarse.

“There’s nothing to forgive. You didn’t do anything wrong, Gale.”

She trudges back to the dining room, and you trail behind her. You can tell from her footsteps that she is exhausted. Adrift. She gestures towards the table.

“Do you mind if we…”

You wrap your arms around her. She stands stiffly. She neither returns nor rejects your embrace. When you step back, she will not look at you.

“I don’t think I can give you what you need, Gale.”

You are taken aback by her words. Panic grows within you.

“What do you mean?”

She bites her lip, shaking her head.

“That’s not true, Aurora.” Your stomach lurches. “Please don’t say such things.”

She stares at you. There is something like coldness in her gaze, but you know it is not that. It is a wall of resignation, shame. There is bitterness in her voice, but it is not directed at you.

“You deserve someone who you can enjoy a dinner that you took such great lengths to prepare. Someone who’s grateful for all the amazing things you do. Someone who can receive the gifts that you give without reservations and certainly without…”

She swipes her hand towards the bathroom, the dining table, herself.

“…This. You deserve more than this shambles.”

“No, Aurora.” Your voice shakes like a plea. “No. I love you, what I deserve is-”

Her face twists.

“What if this is what it’s like, for the rest of my life? What if I can never sit beside you like a normal person and share such a wonderful meal that you so lovingly made? Will that be enough for you? Truly?”

You do not hesitate, not even for a second.

“Yes. Always. You’ll always be enough for me.”

She jerks her head back and forth. She knows you are being genuine, but there is dismay in her reaction.

“It isn’t enough. You deserve better.”

When you reach out to her, she turns away.

---

“Gale.”

There is uncertainty in her voice. She is flicking through the books and papers that clutter your desk as you look up from the letter you are furiously writing. When she last visited, Shadowheart told you about Sister Rose, a cleric at the House of the Moon, reputedly an expert in afflictions of this nature. You are bent on making her acquaintance as soon as possible.

“There’s an awful lot of research here about...”

You nod. She still struggles to give her condition a name.

“What about your own research? Your studies on Illusion?” She frowns. “Do you have time for…all this?”

It is true that you have put your own research on hold for the moment, but it hardly matters. You do not understand why both she and Tara have been asking you about this. You place your quill to one side and stand, crossing over to her. You place one hand on each shoulder, lowering your head to look straight into her eyes.

“This is my only priority right now, Aurora. If there’s anything out there that can help you be free of this burden, then I’ll find it.”

She winces. It stings you. All you want is to show her that you love and care for her more than anything. You do not understand.

“I think it might a bit more complicated than that, Gale.” Her gaze flickers away, then back to you. “I don’t think it’s an equation that can be solved with a simple formula.”

You search her eyes. She is withdrawing, you can sense it. Soon, you will not be able to follow. Desperation bubbles within you. You must show her that you can do it. You can help her.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. There’s a wealth of knowledge that I’ve not even touched yet. We’ll find a way out of this together.”

Her features spasm. She closes her eyes.

“This isn’t your burden, Gale. It isn’t your problem to fix.”

You take her face in your hands. Her eyes are misted now, darkening. You feel helpless to stop the clouds that are coming.

“You’re the woman I love. I do this because I love you.”

She presses her hand against yours. It is so small, so cold.

“Gale, your research, your studies-“

“Nothing matters more to me than you.”

She makes a choked sound. There is anguish in it. You need to prove to her that it can be done, that you can find her the keys to freedom. She holds you, and you can feel her shivering slightly. She turns, and you watch, bereft, as she leaves the room.

---

You jolt awake on some nights, clutching your chest where the mark of the orb used to be. Pain still blazes through you after the nightmares, emanating from the orb’s phantom, ripping through every muscle. You grit your teeth and clench the sheets, waiting for it to pass. You do not know if you are imagining it, or if there are traces of the orb which remain. Perhaps Mystra is not fully pleased with you, despite having promised her forgiveness. Perhaps you still disappoint her, and this is the only reprimand that she can be bothered to muster.

Your dreams are black and purple. Gossamer veils and black tentacles wind around you, flooding the chambers of your heart. You are a young boy behind a rose bush, and then you are a man stripped bare by a command, and you are on your knees, undone before the astral abyss. The goddess looms over you, pronouncing your judgment, and you are terrified and alone.

Every time you wake trembling, shouting, she is by your side. She holds you, her dawn light caressing your hands, your chest, your eyes. She cradles you, and her whispers are like healing spells. You are loved. You are safe. You are enough. You are still here.

You wish you could do the same for her, every time the darkness comes.

---

“The dancing figures, and then the dragons that you conjured… the battle that you represented with those floating lights… It was truly spectacular, Aurora, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You have returned home with Aurora. Your hands are a flurry, and you can barely contain the excitement and pride in your voice. For almost four months she has been working with a collection of poets and playwrights to put together a showcase of their debut works. A small production, but a raving success. That only a modest crowd attended the performance seems to you the greatest injustice.

On the walk back, she has been smiling, nodding, making the occasional sound of agreement. But you can tell that she is not present. You tell yourself it must be post-performance exhaustion, frayed nerves. Perhaps she has not eaten or drunk enough. Maybe she needs more sleep. Her days have been long lately.

Yet there is something in her quietness that gives you pause.

“Aurora, are you alright?” You place a hand on her cheek. “Is something the matter?”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine, Gale.”

You can tell from the way that she hunches into herself, from the wall that has come up behind her eyes, that she is not fine.

“What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

“No.” She turns away. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Aurora.” You take her hand. “Please, tell me.”

Her lip quivers. She starts and stops. “I can’t. I don’t…”

She closes her eyes. She pushes you away when you try to hold her. Sometimes, it is agonising when she withdraws. When you have shown her your whole soul, and there are parts of herself she hides from you. Tonight, it feels like a rejection. Perhaps it is not that she cannot give you everything, or that she fears to do so. Perhaps she simply does not wish to.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Your voice comes out flat, but inside you are breaking. The torment in her gaze is like a gash in your heart.

“No, I…” She balls her fists. “I just…”

You never thought you would ever wish to have a mindflayer tadpole again. But tonight, you remember how it was, to so easily join your thoughts to another’s, to share their memories and feelings, to see the world through their eyes. Tonight, you wish you both had a tadpole, so you could ask her to let you in. So you could understand her.

But perhaps she still would not wish to open herself to you.

“It’s alright, Aurora. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Gale…”

Old memories are coming to you now. Old wounds, from giving of yourself and asking, then failing to receive. Of waiting, fighting to become worthy. Of being shut behind icy walls, left with nothing but your lack.

“I understand if there are things you don’t wish to share with me.”

She steps towards you. “It’s not that…”

A flood has begun inside you now, and you feel like you may drown.

“I understand if you don’t feel like you can trust me. Perhaps I need to do more to earn your trust.”

She is shaking her head furiously.

“I know that I’ve failed on many occasions to be what you need me to be-”

“Gale, please stop.”

There is such an urgency in her words. You stare at her.

“It’s not your fault.”

A tear rolls down her cheek.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you… I just don’t have the words to tell you. Everything inside is just… a mess.”

There is a flash of light inside you. A wave of relief ripples amongst the flood.

“I want you to read my thoughts.”

You are speechless for a moment. You are considering what this means, what she is giving you. The weight of rejection that you no longer have to carry. The fear that you can cast out.

She nods at you, firmly, earnestly.

“I want you to know everything. Please, Gale. Cast the spell.”

---

When you read her thoughts, you see. You feel the anguish that jolts through her, watching the meaningless flirtations that are cast your way. The painted faces and willowy figures flaunted by younger women she believes are more worthy of your attentions. You hear the voices within her, screaming at her for the ways in which she differs from them. Her hair, lank and dark, her skin, blemished and rubbery. Bulges in her flesh where other bodies lay flat. Endless mirrors, laden with shame and anger twisted inwards like a blade, a barbed yearning to be different, better, beautiful.

He is so beautiful, the voice chants, and you are not. He will soon see, and grow weary of you. And then he will leave.

There had been a few women, after the performance, who had thrown themselves at you. You scarcely remembered them, they were so trivial, their chattering so absurd. You had never been one to fawn over such superficial things. Others may consider you attractive, but what of it? You have no eyes for anyone else but her.

But now you see, and you understand. You realise that the frequency of such incidents hurts her. It is not your fault, but she struggles nonetheless.

“Aurora.” You are afraid you might cry from the intensity of her pain. “There’s no one else. You’re the only one I see.”

You are not on your knees, but you feel as though you are begging.

“I love you. Only you. You must believe me. You must see it.”

You can tell how badly she wants to say yes. But she does not.

“What can I do to prove it to you?” you plea. “What more can I do to show you? Because I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.”

She takes your face in her hands. She looks at you with love and despair.

“You’ve given me everything, Gale. There’s nothing more you can do.”

---

“Thank you so much for seeing me, Sister.”

Her face crinkles as she smiles. She seems kind enough, but you are uncertain she will be able to give you more than the leading scholars you have harangued. But you are willing to try anything. Even an elderly cleric of Selune who has spoken to you for half an hour about gardening.

“It sounds like you’ve done considerable research into this condition, Professor Dekarios.”

“I have,” you confess. “But I’m aware that you have considerable practical experience in healing individuals with this affliction. And that’s why I’m here, to understand the methods that have given you such success.”

“Oh?” She rests her chin on steepled fingers.

“Yes,” you continue. “I’ve been trying to apply the recommended approaches, Sister, based on the latest advice from the House of Healing in-”

“Approaches?”

You nod. She considers for a moment, her brow furrowed.

“Professor Dekarios,” she begins. “Do you love your fiancé?”

“She’s not my-”

You stop yourself. She is more to you than even that.

“Yes. I do. Very much.”

“And do you show her that, with your words and actions?”

You are not sure where this line of reasoning is leading. But you are reassured by the gentleness in the Sister’s voice.

“Yes. I do.”

She leans forward in her chair.

“When she struggles, do you show her patience, kindness, and respect?”

“Of course.” You frown. You assume this is obvious. How could you not? “And I try, always, to broaden the limits of my understanding.”

She hums. “And when you speak to your fiancé, do you speak to her soul, or her affliction?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you mean, Sister.”

“Do you truly see her? The truth of her person, beyond the hold that this condition has on her? Who she is, outside of this suffering?”

You remember the way she rocked against you as she wept, that first time she had let you visit her in the House of Healing. ‘This is all I am,’ she had said. ‘This is all I’ve ever been.’ It was not true then, and it is not true now.

“I do, Sister.”

She nods, then leans back again.

“Then you’re doing everything that you can do.”

That cannot be all. You cannot mask the exasperation in your voice.

“Surely there must be something more I can do. There must be a remedy-”

Something steels in her gaze. “May I speak frankly, Professor Dekarios?”

“Of course.”

She draws in a sharp breath.

“What your fiancé suffers from cannot be cured with a spell or a tincture, a scalpel or a course of medicine. She must walk herself through a tangle of vines, and cut them off one by one at the root. It may take her a few months, or it may take her a lifetime. But you can’t do this for her. Neither is it your responsibility to do so.”

She cuts you off before you can interject.

“You can’t cure her. All you can do is love her, and show her what lies beyond the vines. That’s enough, Professor Dekarios.”

Her smile is light, but her words are heavy.

“You’re doing enough.”

---

As soon as you open the front door, the smell of burning assails you. You rush into your home, leaping from room to room, calling out her name. Eventually, her voice comes to you from the kitchen.

You find her there, crouching on the floor amidst a scattering of broken china. She is holding a cloth around her right thumb, drenched in crimson.

��What happened?” you gasp.

You hurry to her side. As you fuss over her injury, gathering up the sharp shards around you, she tries to reassure you that she is fine, everything is fine.

“I wanted to make you something,” she explains. “Something we could share together – I wanted to try, to show you I’m getting better.”

She stares at her bleeding thumb, at the remains of the charred dish she could not prepare. You wrap your arms around her. You do not want her to be crushed by disappointment, feeling she has failed. You want to shield her from it all, forever.

“You have nothing to prove, Aurora.”

“But I do.” She looks up at you with whirling eyes. “I don’t want you to run yourself into the ground, trying to fix me.”

“It’s not like that-”

“But it is, Gale. I love you, and I always will. You don’t need to earn it. You can’t fix me. You don’t need to.”

The words stick in your throat. You are overwhelmed by the knowledge that even in her distress, she has sought to give you comfort. To assure you of her love. In the light of her gaze, the shadows of your old wounds seem to fade.

“I’m not going anywhere.” The resolve in her voice fills you with hope. “And I’ll fight this until the end.”

She curls into you, and you cradle her head against your heart. You are not sure how long you remain there, still and silent, cocooned in each other. You become aware of her lips brushing against the exposed skin of your chest, drifting softly up the side of your neck, over the line of your jaw. You tremble as her tongue flutters on the bristles of your cheek. Her searching mouth opens to yours.

And then, all you can feel and taste and smell is her.

---

“Where did you learn all these things?”

You smirk at the question. Your body drapes over hers like a mantle. There is awe and mischief in her tone. Dusted with pink, her skin gleams with the after-effects of your passion. You cannot get enough of the sight.

“Aurora,” you chide. “A gentleman doesn’t speak of such things.”

She arches an eyebrow. “You aren’t always a gentleman.”

“I suppose not.”

You swipe your tongue around the peak of her nipple. She moans, batting you softly away as you laugh.

“But Gale,” she whines. “I’m curious.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, I am.” Those wide, bright eyes again. You can never refuse them.

“I’ll do my best to sate your curiosity,” you mumble into her neck.

She chews her lip. “I know there were a few others, before Mystra.”

“There were.”

She sighs as you nibble at her collarbone.

“But no one of note, you said.”

You hum, tracing your nose down her shoulder. “Forgettable. Distractions.”

“And then Mystra preferred things abstract, incorporeal…”

“She did.” You are following Aurora’s freckles again, down to the underside of her breast. You can feel the vibrations of her body.

“So how did you gain such proficiency in-”

She sucks in a breath as you lick at the spray of freckles around her navel, meandering down to her centre. Her hips roll ever so slightly. You are surging.

You grin as you look up at her. “I studied and practised.”

---

Your clasp and unclasp your hands behind your back. Your throat is dry, your chest a tangle. In a haze, you scan the smiling faces of all your nearest and dearest, gathered before you with eager anticipation. The scent of lavender drifts from the arch behind you, stilling your thoughts for a moment.

You had been planning to ask her. For weeks you had fretted over the words, the time and place. You had worried that it was too soon, too much. Your research told you that such events could often trigger an exacerbation of her affliction. You did not want to subject her to such agony. And though you knew her love and desire for you, fear still clung to you like your phantom orb. Part of you was still afraid she would not accept.

She had turned up at Blackstaff unexpectedly on your birthday. You had planned to take a stroll into the city together after your classes were over, but she wanted to give you a present before then. With wonder, you unravelled a collection of poems she had written. Entitled “Promise”, the first page was a dedication to you.

Her poems conjured the splendour of stars bursting. It did not take long for you to devour them all. And she had known you would, because the last line of the final poem ended: “Marry me.”

It is true that there were tears, and half-eaten meals, and broken mirrors. You tried to take on as many of the preparations as possible, to shield her from the stress. You reassured her that the wedding could be postponed or cancelled if she was not ready. You could not take away her fears about what she might wear, how she might look. Yet she had promised that she would fight, and fight she did. And now, you are here.

You can see your mother giggling as she whispers to your aunt and uncle, your cousins jostling keenly around them. Nurse Mona sits amongst a small group of druids and bards, Aurora’s closest friends. Elminster bobs his head to the rhythm of the lutist. Karlach glimmers with muted fire, grinning at you and waving. You wave back, extending your greeting to a beaming Halsin beside her. You glimpse Astarion and Tav, fiddling with each other’s collars, and Shadowheart examining a piece of parchment with Xan. Lae’zel watches and listens with silent pride.

It has been years since you have come together with your companions from the old days. Time and distance could not sever the bonds that formed between you so long ago. Yet their absence was a hole inside you that ached to be filled, until today.

To stand here, surrounded by these people you cherish so dearly, knowing you are loved and desired by her so completely – it is overwhelming. You are blinking, rubbing your eyes hard. Wyll squeezes your arm behind you. You turn to face him.

“Remember what we talked about, Gale.”

You inhale sharply, running your fingers through your hair.

“Breathe…” Wyll chants. “Think: Calm. Composed. Dignified.”

“I am calm and composed,” you echo. “I am dignified.”

He nods sagely. “We have the whole day ahead of us.”

“And I can’t be a blubbering mess already.” You clear your throat.

Wyll chuckles. “If anyone can handle this, my friend, it’s you.”

In his gold-embroidered, midnight blue doublet, Wyll exudes courtly bearing. When he and Karlach had returned to Baldur’s Gate, it did not take long for you to rekindle your friendship.

“Thank you for being here, Wyll. I can’t think of a better man to stand by my side.”

His smile is warm as the summer sun.

“Thank you, Gale. The honour is all mine.”

---

When Sister Rose begins her opening remarks, you are barely listening. Your eyes have caught on a flurry of movement in the distance. Your breath hitches.

Tara flutters down the aisle, and comes to rest opposite you and Wyll. Your oldest companion, your most loyal friend. The one who cared for you when you had no one else. Now, she stands by the woman that you love as her most ardent defender, her confidante. You reach out to her. She nuzzles your hand with her cheek. Your vision is beginning to blur.

Everything around you dissolves as Aurora steps forward. She wears her dark waves like a crown. Her face glows in the sunlight, bare except for a flicker of blue kohl on her eyelids and a dusting of glitter on her freckled cheekbones. Her gown is a waterfall of stars at midnight, resting lightly around her waist, cascading around her as she moves. It is a masterful, delicate illusion, but it does not conceal her, nor temper her beauty. She strides towards you with the certainty of hope, the resolve of love.

The tears come, and you cannot stop them.

She does not take her eyes off yours as she approaches. You have never before witnessed such a miracle, nor felt a happiness so bright and raw.

You are both crying as she takes her place. There is a ripple of sighs from the crowd as Wyll passes you a handkerchief and Sister Rose presses a cloth into Aurora’s shaking fingers. You are laughing as you wipe away each other’s tears.

You take hold of her hands, and it begins.

---

“Here he is, the man of the hour.”

You dip your head at Astarion. Tav embraces you.

“I do apologise. I was making a beeline for you, but got accosted by a very merry Elminster, extolling the virtues of our cheese board in painstaking detail.”

“None of us have been able to get near it,” Tav laments. “Or dared to try.”

“Lovely cloak, Astarion. Very… vampiric.”

Astarion arches an eyebrow. “It was either this or not coming at all. Fashion is less important than not frying in the sun, I’m afraid, even for such a momentous occasion.”

You chuckle. “Thank you for coming.”

His fangs glint as he grins. Tav circles an arm around his shoulder.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, Gale,” Tav exclaims. “We’re so, so happy for you.”

“We just had the pleasure of your wife’s acquaintance.” Astarion takes a sip of wine. “I didn’t think I would ever meet someone so similar to you in every respect, yet not insufferable at all! Your wife is simply charming. An absolute delight.”

“Astarion,” Tav warns.

You titter. “I think I’ll take that comment in the spirit in which it was intended. She’s exceptional. Remarkable. I agree.”

“I can only imagine how many long and intense discussions you had in the library,” Astarion purrs. “Staring longingly at each other, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s-”

Tav jostles him. “Astarion, stop!”

Astarion cackles.

“What’s so funny?”

You flinch a little from the force of Karlach’s hug. Halsin, deep in conversation with a smiling Aurora, follows behind. She radiates with joy, and you have never wanted her more.

You clasp Halsin’s hand in greeting.

“Just to be clear, Halsin.” You plant a kiss on Aurora’s cheek, intertwining your fingers with hers. “My wife and I are quite happy with our relationship, as it is. Just the two of us.”

Halsin holds his hands up. “I wouldn’t presume otherwise, Gale.”

Aurora looks at you in confusion. You touch your nose to hers.

Karlach chortles. “You two are so fucking sweet.”

---

“So we’ll see you again next month?” Aurora asks hopefully.

“Of course.” Shadowheart takes the wine that you offer her. “I might end up staying longer at the House of the Moon this time. I’ll bring you those scrolls and tinctures that we discussed.”

Aurora’s eyes dance with delight.

“Will you bring the owlbear?” Karlach gushes. “Wyll and I have missed the little guy.”

“Perhaps that would be an opportunity for Xan.” Lae’zel glances at the child. “You wanted to make a sculpture of a great beast of Faerun, did you not?”

Xan nods thoughtfully. He scribbles something in his notebook.

“It would be a great opportunity for us, too, Lae’zel,” you muse. “To hear more of your jokes.”

Lae’zel twitches.

“And to learn about more unconventional uses of Githyanki psionics.” You catch Aurora’s eye, and she bites her lip.

“Observe, Xan,” Lae’zel remarks, gesturing between the two of you. “Waterdhavian mating rituals are indeed more refined than others in Faerun.”

There is the slightest lift of Lae’zel’s eyebrow. You clap your hands together and laugh.

---

How is it possible for a heart to feel so full?

You stand silently, bathing in the light of the stars, buoyed by the song of those you love around you. You search for her, and it does not take long to find her.

She lingers near the central table, admiring the intricate designs on the cake which your mother crafted with tenderness and zeal. Gently, she takes a small slice in her hands, lifting it to her lips.

She takes one bite, and then pauses. She takes another. She smiles.

Her grey eyes meet yours across the expanse. You bound towards her, and she squeals as you lift her up and spin her around. You can taste brandy and chocolate as her mouth glides against yours.

“I think it’s time to go,” you whisper.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note: When I finished Progress, I thought it would be a standalone fic. But I was so in love with Gale and Aurora, and so wanted to give them a happy ending. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for taking the time to engage with this story.

Please, feel free to reach out, I'd love to hear from you.

If you liked this fic, you can check out my other work here.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #gale fic #bg 3 gale fic #gale romance #professor gale x oc #gale x oc #professor dekarios x oc #gale fanfic

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ficbrish · 6 months

Text

"You were my first."

Rating: Explicit 18+ only!

[AO3 Link]

[Kinktober 2023 prompt thanks to @absurdthirst! October 2nd - Sexual Frustration, Virginity]

[[TW/CW: Cptsd, blood, gore, self-hate, abuse flashback, casual suicide ideation, intense genitalia depiction (imagined), alcohol]]

Summary: Astarion drinks from a person for the first time.

Expansion of the first bite scene in Act 1. The fourth night of their adventure.

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

Astarion and Vistri trusted each other the least out of everyone else.

They were too much alike, cut from the same cloth and that cloth was absolute bullshit. Something always lurked in their eyes behind carefully crafted smiles. All of their expressions were adornments, masks. Even their movements were costumes. The two of them practically made up their own masquerade ball! Always dancing around flirtatiously, getting under each other's skin, ruffling feathers.

Vistri knew these things, and she refused to let herself trust Astarion because of it.

So why did it feel like a betrayal to find him looming over her bedroll in the dark? Fangs bared, ready to strike. Ready to take. Her heart plummeted before she even had the chance to process what was happening. She opened her eyes and the sight of him dragged her down into a nostalgic pit.

“Shit,” Astarion jumped back the moment she stirred. He’d fucked up, made a bad call, and now Vistri was going to drive a stake through his heart. The glower on her face said it all. He’d been so close to finally tasting a real person, and now he was doomed to die without ever sating his gnawing hunger.

Gods! If she hadn't stopped him...

“The hells!” she raged, shaking off sleep as she stood.

“No, no—It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” he protested, thinking, Surely, this is the end. Vistri was going to kill him. Or one of the others if he put up a good enough fight.

Vistri scowled. The fear in Astarion’s tone and posture was a mirror. His was the exact sort of song and dance she’d put on whenever she herself got caught; when she wasn’t really sorry about anything other than the discovery. It set her heart racing, and made it ache for some reason.

She spoke with a lump in her throat, “Kind of looks like your second murder attempt from where I’m standing.”

“I wasn’t going to hurt you!” Astarion explained defensively, “I just needed—Well, blood.”

“Blood? You needed my blood? Who?—Oh…”

Somewhere between Darkvision greys and the orange glow of dim firelight, Vistri saw Astarion draped in new colors. Those red eyes, pale skin, and silver hair of his were not signs of fealty to Lolth as she'd thought, but the markings of another dark god. One, no doubt, more worrying. The scar on his neck wasn’t the shadow of an arrow or fork, but the echo of another mouth. His sharp teeth were... It’s not that Vistri didn’t have her suspicions, it’s just that she’d pushed those thoughts to the edges of her mind. She’d literally been blinded by the sunlight!

It was the first time Astarion ever admitted this to another person, his condition. He couldn't even say the word ‘vampire’ out loud, but based on the various looks shifting in and out of Vistri’s expressions, he wouldn't have to, she’d gotten there on her own.

She hadn’t reached for a weapon, but that was subject to change. Astarion swallowed, her pounding pulse as real in his senses as the smell of hot food wafting through a warm breeze. He watched her observe the hunger as it consumed him, drove him mad. His body shook with the signs.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it…” she muttered, “We even found the boar you snacked on!”

She’d only chosen to go to sleep that night because Astarion had been acting so… so pissy! He'd been equal parts dismissive and condescending that evening whenever they spoke. Vistri thought he didn’t like her much before, but he’d been acting as if he truly hated her—It grated on her nerves! Trance wouldn’t do when its semiconsciousness still left her with a vague awareness of his presence. She needed to get away, and to get away, she slept. Ironic then, how her awareness of him was what roused her now. Gods, she couldn’t get away even when she tried to!

She slapped her forehead, “The pig! Gods I was wondering why you were being such a bitch about the pig!”

Astarion was literally taken aback, “A bitch?—I was not!”

“You just now tried to steal my blood!” she scoffed, “And yes, you have been! All day and evening long!”

“Now, now. Let’s not wake the others.”

Vistri crossed her arms, frowning.

“It’s not what you think—” he said defensively, “I’m not some monster!”

Whether true or not, she could tell he didn’t really believe his own words. Reality was, part of him did and part of him didn’t, and both parts rejected the other. For some reason, it was important to him now that she didn’t believe he was... one of those. For once, Astarion had revealed his dirty secret, and needed Vistri not to let that change anything.

“I feed on animals! Boars, deer, kobolds—” he continued, “Whatever I can get.”

“The latest I recall; I am not a boar or a deer or a kobold.”

Astarion rolled his eyes in desperate frustration, “Yes, exactly! You’re not whatever I can get. You’re what I crave to sink my teeth into!”

Vistri’s breath tripped over her heartbeat and got caught up in its frantic patter.

That wasn’t an unwelcome thought, but… It’s just that he didn’t ask first! It pushed Astarion over into the “unsafe people” category, and she wasn’t allowed to like those people. Shadowheart was right, and Vistri hated him for it as much as she did for finding him ready to prey on her unconscious form.

There was just no going back from that.

“You were looking at me funny last night,” she mused, “This is why you were looking at me like that, wasn’t it?”

He nodded, not breathing.

“Wanted a nibble, did you?” she teased unkindly, holding her fear all the way down in her toes, so as not to risk it slipping into her voice.

“I’m just too slow right now,” he explained with puppy eyes, “Too weak.”

“I’ll say.”

Well, Vistri wasn’t killing him, and now she was starting to act like her usual unserious self. Astarion knew he should really stop there. He was lucky enough to just get where he was now, with her not immediately staking him.

But…

Astarion carefully considered how to phrase his proposal, “If I just had a little blood… I could think clearer. Fight better. Please."

He reminded Vistri of sobering drunks shouting out to bartenders after the pubs had closed. But it was also an ask of her. One that centered on her willingness to give herself away and made her the most important person in his world at that moment. Vistri had an easy answer for those types of inquiries.

She could see the ravenous curse glaring in his eyes. Astarion was all need, and yet he gave her the chance to decide. To be taken, or not?

And what would that be like? If she let him take her? If she just laid back and craned her neck?

No!

Absolutely not! No!

She shut her eyes to think for a moment, almost wishing Shadowheart would stir. Where’s a cleric when you need one most? She could help her say no. Or rather, wouldn’t let Vistri say yes—But she’d be absolutely insufferable about it the whole time!

Vistri fell into Astarion’s eyes the moment she opened hers.

“Gods be damned,” she whined.

“What?”

“Shhhsh! Let me think!”

Astarion’s mind was so consumed by the sight of her throat that he couldn’t come up with a retort. He just swallowed and stared longingly at her.

Gods, he was going to eat her up!

Vistri knew she was already lost, but she still had to fight it. As a last resort, she turned to the tadpoles. Even if she was doomed to give in, she could at least see the moment for what it was. She always considered pushing into someone else’s mind without permission a gross transgression, but if Astarion was willing to take without asking, then the truth was more important than his trust or comfort.

It was as simple as giving in. Vistri reached out to both their tadpoles, blending their minds so she could read his. The door she created only opened one way though. She imagined her mind as an impenetrable abyss. Nothing could breach it. Vistri would peer inside his consciousness without showing him any of her own. She pictured Astarion's mind as a sea, its waters ready to be parted, and dove in.

And as she stole information, memory, the tadpole enacted its own violation, nestling further into her flesh. It touched parts nothing should ever touch and ate things she couldn’t afford to lose. But what would that matter after tonight? Or at the end of their seven days?

“I—What’s this? What’s happening?”

Vistri forced herself to ignore the helplessness in his voice; hold tight onto her regret and push it down. There was no turning back. It already cost too much to catch the faintest glimpse.

She found the most monstrous things inside his head, but Astarion wasn’t the horror. His memories were cracked and quivering, living right at the forefront of his mind. Vistri travelled along their strings and found a hand wrapped around them in the form of dark eyes, commanding him. Feed.

Feed on the rat.

The memory was shame, and it twisted his face. Astarion grimaced as if stabbed, and Vistri hated herself in a way she never had before.

More than a command, that sinister voice was like another brain willing one's body to move. Vistri could feel Astarion's teeth, her teeth, sinking into a struggling rat, body twisting as it shrieked. She choked on the feeling of its fur on her own tongue, as viscerally as if it sat there now. She felt its bones break under her bite. Pangs of disgust and unmet need mixed up together into a particular form of sickness. Astarion was starving, and her rising empathy fueled her rage rather than quelled it. The gnaw at his core was a nightmare Vistri would never forget.

“You ate animals because you were forced to,” she spat bitterly, “Not because you wanted to.”

“I—Yes,” there was no point in denying it after all she’d seen, “Yes, I ate whatever disgusting vermin my master picked.”

Astarion spoke with a wave of vengeful revulsion, his glare and tone defensive wounds that made her stomach hurt to witness. Vistri felt like she wanted to bite someone almost as much as he did. Having nowhere to put it made her restless. So she shook her hands to rid them of magical impulses, a nervous habit of hers, “Fuck!”

“Once again, if we could lower our voices.”

“That’s horrible, Astarion!”

What sort of cruel joke was she playing at? Vistri looked sincere enough, Astarion would give her that, but why on Toril would she care? His brows knotted suspiciously.

He seemed a little confused, but Vistri thought that was understandable. Maybe he didn’t know it was horrible and was hearing it out loud for the first time. She’d been there before herself.

“Believe me, I’m well-acquainted with how horrible it all was.”

Vistri froze. Astarion couldn’t be reading her mind, could he? She pulled out her go-to check for such a spell and conjured a graphic image in her mind’s eye. In as much detail as she could manage, Vistri pictured the biggest, bulgiest, veiniest, drippiest penis she could think of. Nothing pretty about it, just vaguely unsettling and truly shocking. As she held that image, she squinted at Astarion and picked apart every aspect of his expression.

She found only sadness there. Invisible bruises, hit again and again, covered his face once she knew to look for them. There was no hint indicating he shared her conjured horror; only an agonized recollection. It didn’t just absolve him, it made Vistri feel quite terrible for thinking of a horrible penis just then.

And if he was really reading her mind… Well… I’m so sorry.

Without acknowledging her mental apology, Astarion spoke again, “So you can see why I’m slow to trust you.”

Especially if she was going to keep poking around his mind without asking. Astarion had been so ready to be rid of her just to hide the whole vampire thing, and now both that and Cazador were out of the bag in the space of one mistake. His own memories played through her head, and for some reason he couldn’t touch hers at all.

“But I do trust you,” he lied, “And you can trust me.”

Vistri paused, gathered herself, and met his deception with one of her own, “I do. I believe you.”

The grins on their faces hissed like snakes. Neither called it out, willingly entering a folie à deux. Both were desperate to believe the lies they told, each other's and their own. In a fucked up way only the two of them could manage, it turned into its own type of trust. It wasn’t real, but it was there.

For as long as they both agreed on its existence.

“Thank you,” Astarion sounded genuine and even tipped his head.

Vistri nodded back, you’re welcome.

But Astarion wasn’t done yet. The ache still rumbled through him, making his mouth water.

“Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” he asked carefully with a flourish of his hand.

Vistri raised her brows.

“I only need a taste,” he cajoled, “I swear.”

The pounding in her ears started up again. He offered a thrill she’d never tried before. A vampire. People usually didn’t come back from one of those bites, did they? It was never only just a taste, was it?

“Fine. But not a drop more than you need,” she agreed despite her best intentions.

Astarion sounded a bit shocked, “Really? I—Of course.”

The fact that even he was surprised Vistri said yes was a red flag she was fully aware of. She was very aware. If magic whispered under her skin, self-destructive impulses shouted through it.

“Not one drop more,” he promised, elation breaking through his measured voice. He still couldn’t believe she said yes; that it had been that easy. No one had ever known him for what he was and offered themselves anyway. Maybe he didn’t have to get rid of her after all.

Maybe he didn’t want to.

For Vistri, it was the ultimate moment of truth. She was either someone important enough to spare, or this would be her final night. Astarion would either take only as much as she gave, or use her up completely. It was a true test of value; who they were to each other, and who they were as people.

“Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” Astarion offered smoothly, inviting her back to her bedroll with a gesture. If she came to him willing, there was no reason the moment couldn't be a nice one for the both of them. He had no idea what he was doing and found a certain comfort in the familiar role of hospitality.

Vistri glared at him, reading his genuine attempt at kindness as a sort of gloating insincerity. She mumbled as she settled down, “Could have started out this way if you weren’t such a bitch about that boar.”

“I was not!—You’re ruining the atmosphere now, darling.”

“Atmosphere? We’re in the dirt trying not to wake our companions who are also in the dirt.”

Astarion raised a brow, more amused at her antics than vexed, “Bit more premium than the mud, at least. Now lie back.”

They were going to try this again, with her permission this time. Vistri laid back in her bedroll fully prepared for death. She knew her worth and was ready to surrender to it.

Dirt.

Vistri was dirt. Whatever was about to happen would validate that, and it excited her enough to feel something as much as it choked her.

“I’ll haunt you,” she said.

“What?”

“If you kill me. I’ll haunt you.”

“Right.”

As Astarion crawled over Vistri, all he could think was, finally. The pulse in her throat called to him, reaching towards his like a siren diva. A completely brand-new ecstasy was his to savor, and he kept waiting for someone to snatch it away before he could have a taste. Like always.

Still, he waited. Unwilling to cross a line that would make him lose his prize. He let out a low groan, almost a growl, in anticipation of her signal.

Vistri tried to blink away the warmth that spread over her as he hovered above her. It wouldn’t go away.

She gave up and closed her eyes, making a silent bet with herself, “Go on.”

Astarion lunged forward and pierced her neck so fast it was like the punctuation to her sentence.

Vistri anticipated teeth, not mouth. Turns out his fangs were only there for puncture. The rest of it was all lips and tongue and throat. She knew there would be pain, but it was quick and sharp before throbbing into numbness. It was a strange sensation, but not overall unpleasant.

Their life forces seemed to merge at his bite. He flowed into her and through her as he took, like two rivers meeting at a frothing current. Vistri's breath would be rough and laborious if she wasn’t working so intently to be still and quiet.

Good, little prey.

Her heart beat out such a rapid, panicked tune; fighting helplessly in her chest as she gave herself to him with nothing less than a death wish. Astarion longed painfully for a moment like this for two terrible centuries, and it was so much better than he ever dared to dream. Her dragon blood was cool on his tongue, like frosted cream. The silver scales on her face had piqued his curiosity, he’d wondered before how she tasted. Now he was blessed with the knowledge, he was lost in it. Astarion didn’t exist anymore. Just the need.

He swallowed her down.

Vistri began to think that maybe she should probably stop him.

Probably.

Or she could let him continue. Give in entirely until she was all gone…

Astarion never wanted to stop. All performance was cast aside, abandoned with no grace. The only thing left in control was his cursed nature. His tongue eagerly lapped up the blood against her neck with no sign of stopping.

She let him do as he pleased. Wanted to disappear between his lips. Vistri couldn’t tell if there was something narcotic in his bite, or if that was just…

Gods, please don’t let that just be him. She felt her knees shiver, and almost let Astarion have his way.

Then another thought suddenly shouted above all the others. Maybe he couldn’t control himself. He’d said he trusted her, and if that wasn’t a lie, then perhaps he meant for her to stop him before he lost them both.

“That’s enough,” she reluctantly sighed.

Her voice reached Astarion through the dreamy fog.

“Mhh?” he moaned, yes?

He was still lapping her up as he answered, and his question broke over her skin. Vistri twitched and he mistook it for pain.

Excusing himself, he tore away from the bliss of her neck with a courteous, “Oh, of course.”

A chill came over her as his body left hers. The continued pounding of Vistri's heart grounded her in the reality that she was still alive. She’d survived Astarion's favor. Pressing her hand against the wound to stop the bleeding, she felt a sort of glee wash over her.

Standing across from each other, their chests rose and fell. Wanting more.

“That—” his words faltered, overcome by a mixture of ecstatic satisfaction and lingering bloodlust.

Vistri’s stomach flipped. Renewed vigor was palpable in his very energy, and a genuine smile spread over his gloomy face.

“That was…”

She watched him appreciatively smell the mess left on his lips. Then again delight in her taste, sucking his fingers clean of all remnants, one by one.

“Amazing.”

He wore an even wider smile. Everything Vistri was swirled inside her like strong wind.

“My mind is finally clear,” he continued, “I feel strong. I feel…" He took a deep, smiling breath, "Happy!”

That was the first time Vistri ever saw Astarion take such a complete deep breath. She learned that his shoulders sat naturally lower than she previously thought.

And this was her effect on him. Her blood in his veins.

Something about that made her want to taste him right back.

But she refused to give that urge any attention, and spoke to shake it off, “I’m looking forward to seeing you fight.”

He was grateful to her for rooting the moment in something they could actually discuss. Even if he wanted to share every detail that went into the descriptor of amazing, Astarion wasn’t sure he could put into words what this meant to him.

“Shouldn’t take long,” he smirked, “So many people need killing.”

And Vistri wasn’t one of them.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he bowed, “You’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.”

It was true, Astarion was plagued with a lingering hunger, having abided by the bounds of Vistri's consent and stopping before he was satisfied. But what really set his feet jittering was the real weight of all these brand-new feelings. No wonder Cazador kept his spawn apart from thinking prey. Even a little taste of all that life brought back so much of what he’d stolen.

“Wait!” Vistri called out as he turned to strut away into the forest.

They bumped into each other as he twirled back around.

“Sorry,” they both said.

Astarion stepped back. She didn’t.

“Um,” she gestured at her face, “You have…”

He could feel her breasts brushing against his chest, and blinked as if that would help him to ignore it.

“What?” he asked quite shortly.

With an unsure gesture, Vistri reached up to his mouth. Even though she went slowly, questioningly, it was faster than explaining. At least in her current, near-speechless state. She asked with her eyes if she could get closer, and he answered with his own to inch closer, even though they were narrowed and suspicious.

Astarion jumped slightly at her touch but allowed Vistri to wipe her finger along the corner of his grin.

“Little bit of blood,” she murmured, and cleared her throat.

She held up her smeared finger in demonstration, and Astarion had to stop himself from grabbing it and licking it clean.

“Oh,” he said, “My, my! I have made a mess, haven’t I?”

Vistri didn’t know what to say, so she mirrored his smirk. But she didn’t want to just stand there smiling like someone thick, so she rushed herself to say something clever. Which came out thick, “Nothing that takes more than a little wipe.”

He had no idea what she was talking about and just needed to leave, “Right. Well—”

She was standing so close. He could still sense her pulse, smell the blood clotting on her neck. The demons inside him were screaming to tear her apart. Astarion had to get away, but he was held in place.

Vistri was looking at him with such a mix of emotion that it made her a riddle.

Why didn’t she stake him? Why did she let him sup? Trust him at the risk of her life?

Astarion’s eyes travelled from her neck to her lips. Now that he’d had a taste of her throat, he found himself desperately curious about all her other parts.

His stare made Vistri tremble even more than she had in the gods’ damned mind flayer pod! Which was ridiculous! She’d long ago sworn off aristocratic types. The fourth night into an illithid transformation was not the right time to fall of that wagon!

“Off you go!” she playfully pushed Astarion towards the trees, needing him out of sight. She'd normally leave herself, but had nowhere else to go besides her bedroll a few paces from where they now stood.

He obliged, but suddenly turned once more to thank her. Which crashed them into each other again.

This time, they both took a big leap back. Instead of apologizing, they shared a brief look and let out a pressure value-laugh.

Astarion became serious for a moment. His voice sounded softer and stronger than she knew it could be.

“This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.”

If she answered with more sincerity, they'd both choke.

“Wouldn’t dare let you,” she smirked.

He returned it, then left Vistri alone to nurse her aching neck.

She could still feel his mouth on her skin, and her breathing hadn’t yet stilled. Shit. Now that Astarion was out of sight, she felt her bones calling him back. Vistri shut her eyes tight, willing the wanting to go away.

If it was kind, it would just go away.

There was something bittersweet about how the raw power Astarion now harnessed depended on Vistri’s kindness. A proper hunt would surely be more satisfying. The woods were full of treasure, but they felt empty. So many bodies slumbered in the shadows, but the one he truly sought was in the other direction.

It didn’t matter that she was the first person he ever drank from and had nothing to compare her to. Perhaps it was instinct, but he already knew that nothing else out there could match the fine, exquisite vintage that was her.

Astarion explained it away as just the dragon blood. It wasn’t tied to that drow at all.

It couldn’t be.

v---v v---v v---v v---v v---v

Big moment, that following morning was. Pleasantly enough, none of the others tried to drive a stake through Astarion’s heart upon learning his true nature. Nor did Vistri suddenly change her mind and call for a mob. She even stood up for him. Showed a suspicious amount of understanding.

But that’s how she’d always survived.

A bit of kindness tinged with charm, and lying back, goes a long way.

Astarion seemed the happiest that Vistri had ever seen him. Although, to be fair, they’d journeyed together less than a tenday, and not under the most pleasant circumstances. She’d seen him smile, but not like that. Not like the way he’d been smiling since—

His lips on her neck…

“Augh!” Vistri exclaimed, walking unannounced into Shadowheart’s tent, “I feel like a ripe pile of shit!”

“Were you raised in a barn?!” Shadowheart cried, startled and put out by her new friend’s sudden appearance.

“No, the Underdark—But that’s not important right now,” Vistri answered, too obsessed at the moment to exchange a bit of back and forth, “We don’t have time for an ethics debate.”

“An ethics debate? You just barged into my tent!”

“Because I needed to talk to you!” she explained, as if that answered everything sufficiently.

“I swear, if you hadn’t saved my life…”

“I know, I know! I’m insufferable. Do you have wine?”

“It is just passed sunrise.”

“Yes, and I’m very thirsty.”

Somehow, Shadowheart’s exasperated refusal to indulge her self-destructive habits prompted Vistri to spill everything. How she never felt anything.

How much she felt last night.

“You like the vampire?”

Vistri looked as if Shadow had just spat in her face, and protested, “I do not!”

While she had her crisis at Shadowheart, Astarion was literally skipping through the woods. He couldn’t remember a day where he felt better than he did this morning. With her blood flowing through him, giving back life.

Was this what it felt like to be Vistri? he found himself musing, watching the dapple of shadows dance across his hands as the sunlight trickled through the trees.

Which was a very ironic conclusion for him to draw, considering that she was just now sobbing wildly on Shadowheart’s awkward shoulder.

But Vistri never let him inside her mind despite pushing into his, not after that first initial taste; when they met on the ground in his arms, while his blade pressed into her. Too much was happening then for Astarion to really notice anything, and he only felt a hint of someone else before she instinctually shut her mind off from his. They’d shared a memory, but it was like the directions of a play read aloud, not the feelings of an actor emoted through their eyes.

It piqued his curiosity now that he spent a little time in her company. Had a taste of her.

And like a cat discovering a closed door, he was suddenly possessed by the need to pry it open.

Turns out, things were working out for Astarion better than he could have ever imagined. He could get used to his luck turning around like this. Not only did the rest of his companions accept that he was a vampire without much complaint, Vistri offered to let him feed again.

Before he accepted, it was important for Astarion to make clear that nothing would ever happen again without her say so. He could be better than Cazador ever was—wanted to be better.

“I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together.”

Vistri could feel heat rising in her face. Cheesy little comments of his like that previously grated on her nerves, and now she wanted to giggle.

What the fuck was wrong with her? Did she really want him? Could she really… imagine that as a possibility?

“But until then: No more late-night surprises, you have my word on that,” he promised. Rather sincerely, actually.

It was probably due to some vampiric thrall she must be under, but Vistri decided to trust his words. Every night could be its own test, and a sick part of her hoped he’d break his vow. That he’d prove it was all good to be true; show her who she really was. Prove that neither of them were worth it.

“Thank you,” she said, biting her lip, “And if you don’t mind, I have a vow of my own to exchange.”

“Oh?”

“Pushing into your mind… I wasn’t sure if you were going to kill me, but in finding out, I also… That was for you to save or tell. Not for me to find out. Not like that. I swear I’ll never do it again. Not without asking first.”

Astarion looked a bit devastated; shook it off with a smirk, and then said, “We’re even.”

Vistri was taken aback, “Even?”

“I've only tried to stab you when we first met, and bite you while you’ve slept. A little wriggling around with my mind worm… Well, you’re not better than me after all! In fact, you’re just like me.”

She smiled and looked at her feet, “I wouldn’t go as far as that.”

Even the teasing mention of closeness was too much for Vistri to endure, and she hated him for it.

So of course she didn’t want to appear too eager! She waited a whole other day before proposing another late-night snack. Astarion took it to be a reward for his good behavior; not coming back for seconds before he was asked.

The anticipation ate at them even worse after they agreed it would happen that night, and it itched at them all day. Unfortunately, Astarion was a bit of a stress-eater, and quite literally bit off more than he could chew with a large bear that evening before they met up. Draining it just barely replaced what he'd lost, which left him punch drunk and dizzy from his own bloodlessness. Their fun was put off for another night.

Much to the vexation of both.

He didn’t want to wake her that second time, not because he didn’t want her to be present, but because he was doing his best not to be an inconvenience. Vistri wasn’t offended either; he was so obviously sure he was doing her a favor. Oh, but she wanted to be awake for it! Not asleep, not in trance, but there feeling his—

Shit. Bad thoughts! No, no, no.

It was nothing. He meant nothing. She was nothing but a source of sustenance. Vistri had a purpose, and that was that.

She was food.

But then… So was that bandit earlier. Now he was food. Astarion drunk him dry with little grace. Ripped his screaming throat from out of his neck, and the spray went everywhere! Tonight he would gently creep up to her in the dark, at her behest, and take only a little while trying his best not to cause her to stir. It was quite the contrast.

That bandit was a meal. Vistri was a treat.

Then what was this even all for?

Vistri shooed away her curiosity before it meant she had to answer that question herself.

Waiting impatiently in her bedroll, eyes shut tight, Vistri could feel her heart pounding as if it was berating her for their present circumstances.

Oh, hush! she thought, arguing back.

This wasn’t her best performance, pretending to be in the midst of trance as she was. Her focus was elsewhere, searching for his presence through her pores. Her mind froze when Astarion finally began to approach. Even without seeing, she knew he was there; could feel his proximity before he touched her. The very air changed around him, like a storm cloud. Her senses filled with something herbal and sweet, then brandy and heat as his chest crept over hers.

She held her breath, even though deep breathing was the telltale sign of trance. Vistri thought he caught her, sensing him pause for a moment. Then she reasoned she was probably making that up.

But she didn’t. He did pause. Not because he noticed she wasn’t breathing, but because he still wasn’t quite sure this was all really happening. Not just some mad trick of the tadpole.

He swallowed and let himself lean carefully down, until his body pressed into hers. He could feel her heart beating frantically, but in his distraction, it didn’t give her away. Astarion just took it as a sign she was alive. That this really was all real.

His lips met her neck before his fangs. Vistri held back a shiver, taking a deep breath against it. She stifled a moan as one hummed quietly in Astarion’s throat. She could feel it vibrate on hers, neck to neck. Feel her life and power flow into him and through him. Power. Pleasure.

It was palpable.

Astarion’s tongue moved against her skin, swallowing her.

She even lost herself for a moment. As her mind flew blissfully away, her fingers, those sluts, found their way up into his curls.

Her hands grasped the sides of his head. Vistri wasn’t trying to push him away, she just needed to brace herself against the loss of gravity. Astarion didn’t even notice at first. It just felt like part of the whole thing. It was her sudden movement as she jerked them back that brought his attention to her wakefulness.

“Are you not in your trance?” he asked in the crook of her neck.

“No,” she answered with her eyes still closed, “Do you want me to be?”

She was truly the most curious thing to him. Was she pretending to be in a trance to please him? While allowing him to drink from her? Who does that? Astarion smirked, shaking his head, “I thought you’d prefer…”

Vistri opened her eyes and looked into his. She’d been warned her whole life about elves with red eyes.

“No, I—” she blushed, “I mean, it’s quite fun. Is it not?”

“It is?”

Curiouser and curiouser.

She nodded.

“Well, that’s nice to hear.”

“Do you want to-?” Vistri gestured to her neck.

“Right, yes,” Astarion said, clearing his throat. Regaining his cool, he slyly suggested, “Why don’t you crawl into my lap?”

Vistri couldn’t breathe.

Her non-answer was a glorious victory. Astarion could tell he had an effect, a sway over her somehow. He tilted his head back, smiling with confidence, “You do want it, don’t you?”

Lightheaded, Vistri gave in and sat across his knees. Grinning, Astarion grabbed her up into his arms and dipped her dramatically with a slight growl. Vistri giggled, too loudly, and he cupped a hand over her mouth.

He shushed her, “Be still now.”

First, he brought his lips back to her throat. Then his tongue. Then his fangs.

A moan escaped Vistri this time. One, warm hand cradled the back of her neck as he drank from the front of it.

He promised it would be just a taste, and it was just a taste. She didn’t even have to hold him back this time. Astarion stopped on his own accord, before she was ever in any real danger.

When she opened her eyes, Astarion had stars in his. Just a little bit of her, and he was an entirely new person.

Self-satisfied, Vistri grinned, “You’re welcome.”

Sitting up, her head swayed forward like a drunkard and almost smashed into his skull.

“Oh, there you go,” he muttered, steadying her.

Vistri looked up at him, her face so close to his. “I’m okay,” she answered before he could ask.

“Don’t try to get up just yet. You’ll take another tumble, and who knows if I’m feeling generous enough to catch you again.”

“Bastard,” she laughed weakly.

Vistri could smell her blood on his breath. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes so the only thing in existence was the scent lingering between them. She couldn’t imagine liking this so much with anyone el—She shot up so fast, suddenly standing to escape those thoughts.

“Careful!”

Astarion must have been feeling generous because he caught her a second time.

“Oops,” she said, embarrassed.

“You ought to take better care of yourself, darling. I’m invested now.” Funny thing, that wasn't even a lie. He'd never met someone like her before.

Vistri met his grin with performative suspicion, “How heartening.”

Astarion's eyes followed the words as they bounced off her lips. He smiled realizing they were perfectly painted instead of washed clean.

She either swayed or leaned closer. Even Vistri couldn't tell if it was blood loss or an intentional inching of her feet.

“You look a bit peaked,” Astarion said nervously.

“Yes,” Vistri sighed, standing so near, “Off to bed I go.”

Even the air between them pounded. They stayed very still. His breath turned into her breath.

Then Astarion broke the spell, stepping back with narrowed eyes, “Sweet dreams, then.”

“Sweet dreams.”

But there were no dreams.

Just forbidden thoughts that ran endlessly through their minds, until even their muscles ached.

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

#vistarion #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober list #prompt fill #vistri #astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #full fic #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #you were my first fic #BrishFics #angst #smut #lime

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v3nusxsky · 11 months

Note

OKAY Okay i love the sex pollen fic with Emily. So I was wondering if we could get a part two where Emily and reader would be like. ‘The pollen was quite actually fun. Let’s do it again but this time we know what are we getting into so we’re going to have it under control.’ But guess what they didn’t and it lead to rough and toe curling smut?

Could there also be face sitting and squirting?

Thank you so much and have wonderful pride month <3

Who's in control 18+

*Authors note~ the long awaited part two for my first ever sex pollen fic*

Trigger warnings~ oral face sitting dom Emily sub r squirting strap a vibe praise kink degrading kink daddy kink mutual pinning mentioned

Prompt~see ask^^^^^

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Previously~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course when you awoke and went to meet the team before boarding the plane, Derek couldn't hold eye contact, JJ looked at you both with knowing smirks and Rossi was conversing with Hotch about what could've caused such odd reactions. Spencer was a clueless as ever. "So you two, did the pollen give y/n a reaction?" JJ teased spotting the hickeys on your neck. "N-no?" You whimpered feeling embarrassed and shy at them seeing them. You weren't embarrassed of Emily rather knowing you felt worthless compared to anyone else who could want her. "Daddy? Oh sorry Prentiss, your girl is rather loud I thought you were murdering her" Morgan teased causing you to flush bright red and Emily to come and hold your waist, your back to her front as she kissed your neck, "jealous because my game is better than yours?"

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

"Your girl" was going round and round in your head. Being Emily's girl. As you sat on the jet fiddling with your own fingers as you were in your own world remembering the night before. So stuck in your own mind in fact, you even missed the fact the raven haired women had moved to sit near you, only realising when she smoothly slipped her hand into yours. "Hey pretty girl" she whispered to you. Instead of responding verbally you just allowed your head to lull to the side and rest on her shoulder, "hey."

The ride on the jet was peaceful as the two of you caught up on the sleep that you missed the night before. The power nap on the jet allowed you to get through the paper work of the case before grabbing your go bag and intended to head home. "Angel! Wait up" you caught before leaving the pen. "Em?" You whispered, getting lost in her eyes. "Come back to mine? So we can talk."

And that was how you found yourself on the way to Emily's apartment. You allowed Emily to guide you to the sofa as she went around to feed Sergio before coming to join you. "The pollen stuff, can we do it again? But more of us in control?" She murmured watching as you nodded rather shy. "Why so shy angel? You weren't shy last night" she teased and you flushed a bright red colour. "So fucking pretty!"

Your lips soon found one another as if it was a decades old dance. You being tugged onto the other woman's lap as her hands found your skin. And it wasn't long before you were subtly rolling your hips against Emily in hopes of finding some friction. Only when breathing became necessary did you tilt your head, exposing your neck to the raven haired woman who was now happily biting and sucking on your pulse point, adding to the marks that already lay there.

To say Emily was fit was an understatement so there was no surprise when the woman lifted you up and carried you to her bedroom and gently placed you on the bed without losing contact with your throat. "Daddy" you whined hoping she would get the message. "Shh Angel, daddy's gonna take care of you" was mumbled against your throat. Clothes torn from each others bodies as your hands roamed familiar yet unknown skin. "Daddy, please I need to taste you" you whimpered causing a smirk to adorn her lips.

That was how Emily found herself straddled your head gently as you hooked your warms around her thighs. A small tug from you had the older woman sitting on your face, allowing you to lick and suck on the soft skin of her thighs before finally bringing your mouth to where she wanted you. "Oh fuck Angel, god I've wanted this for so long" she mumbled in between curses of overwhelming pleasure.

Emily whined in surprise as your tongue slipped into her soaking hole. Your nose bumping her sensitive clit as her hips ground down against you. "Oh god! Yes fuck me y/n more please" she mewled finally approaching that edge. "Oh god Angel, gonna cum fuck!" Was all she offered before her legs began to shake and she drenched your chin and mouth with her slick.

It took her a few minutes to gather herself before shimming down the bed and spending your legs. Your scent hit her instantly like a freight train. "Oh Angel, did pleasing daddy really cause all this?" She muttered trailing her fingers through your slick. "Oh daddy knows just what to do with you my slutty little fuck toy" her filthy words turning you on even more, so much so you missed her leaning over to grab a small vibrator and a strap that you honestly thought wouldn't fit. "Daddy it's too big" you whined, eyeing the strap on cock curiously.

"I'll make it fix Angel but first we are gonna attach this first okay?" With a nod from you she easily attached the little toy to your sensitive clit and strapped up. "Daddy please" you whimpered as your hips involuntarily bucked upwards, only to feel the vibrations start rolling against your clit. Your whimpers and pleads for more had Emily slipping her thick faux dick into your slick folds. "Oh daddy! Fuck please" you whimpered as she began to move in a rhythm. It was maddening, slow but deep strokes managing to hit your G-spot every time.

But before long Emily's patience faltered and she slipped from your quivering slick hole, flipping you on your hands and knees as if you were nothing more than a mere rag doll. She was quick to re enter your cunt hitting a new depth. "Daddy daddy fuck gonna cum" you chanted over and over, "please god please daddy can I ?" Instead of a verbal response Emily thrusted her cock into you harder and faster than before. "Cum my slutty doll" she purred as you tumbled over the edge.

Fucking you into oblivion was quickly becoming Emily prentiss's favourite pass time. The little whimpers and pleads and mewls of pleasure before you crowed out for her as you tumbled over the edge over and over. Yes, Emily was obsessed with you. So it was only natural the woman kept up her brutal pace as the vibrations rolled mercilessly over your clit. "Daddy! No no no more too sensitive" you stumbled only to be ignored, the toy being ripped of your sensitive bud and you were roughly flipped onto your back once more. Her talented fingers rubbing tight fast circles as she whisper the most filthy yet beautiful words down your ear. "Cum for me darling" was murmured to you causing you to let the coil snap.

"Such a pretty slut for daddy! Gorgeous girl" she praised as your body shook with the waves of pleasure. "Daddy no stop please gonna- I'm gonna" you whimpered before wetness gushed from your abused cunt. "Oh god I'm sorry I'm sorry I didn't" you whimpered fearing the worst, that had never happened to you before. "Oh you good good girl! So pretty Angel, you did so good for daddy! I have so many ideas for your slutty cunt Angel" her praise doing wonders in calming your nerves. "Just need to clean you up sweetheart okay?" She murmured and gently cleaned you up as quickly as she could without hurting you. The sheets swiftly changed as you dozed in her bed. And truly she had that crazy un sub and a wild night of passionate sex, months of pining for each other to thank for this moment.

Word count~ 1394

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #emily prentiss #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss x fem!reader #ssa emily prentiss

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littlelesbinonny · 10 months

Text

The Devil’s Den

Chapter 19: In Which Quiet Confessions Are Loudest

You can read this also on Ao3 at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

You watched Alcina leave in silence but in your head you were screaming.

She had kissed you with severity; a reverence she'd not shown you before and you wanted to cry.

And argue.

Fight her to stay. The need to keep her close violent and protective.

Holy shit, your emotions were suddenly unsupervised teenagers who found energy drinks and a pile of candy.

They. Were. All. Over the place.

There was a lingering in her eyes in the split second before she vanished, and in that moment you wanted to say it. You wanted to tell her all the things you'd felt for so long.

You wanted to tell her you loved her.

But you couldn't. And didn't.

Fucking why?

In the midst of the barrage of pin-balling thoughts and feelings you watched her depart with such great hesitation you almost jumped out the window after her.

Please don't go. I can buy black out curtains for every window in this apartment; I'll make it sun proof, completely safe so you can stay. We can just hole-up here and forget everything. Stay - just stay with me, stay. Or take me back with you - or even if I can't be in the underground, take me somewhere closer so I can get to you faster, so you can get to me faster, so we're not so far away. I have no idea where you even go when you leave me, but please, don't go. Please just stay. Don't leave me. Don't leave me.

Your mind rambled as your heart kept bursting with some concoction of whatever the fuck you were experiencing.

She vanished into the darkness but your eyes followed an imaginary path until you couldn't any longer.

With an exasperated huff you tore yourself from the balcony and went back inside.

Your bed was a mess. Sheet haphazardly hanging off one side, pillows smushed against the headboard, some on the floor, bedspread... location currently unknown. It gave you a slight smile remembering the fun it took to get it looking this way. Your body was still heavily buzzing with euphoria, so much so you were almost at the brink of overstimulation. You were covered in everything her; smudged lipstick, bite marks, smell, taste, sensation of her hands and fingers and lips and tongue and body pressed into yours - it was dizzying, But, still... elation was heavily leaned upon by a shadow.

And you were pretty fucking sure it's name was Mother Miranda.

Alcina's story was much more vague than what you felt you saw in your head when she told you about the scar. For some reason it seemed as if you had slipped into a dream and witnessed it via third person. Almost like you could smell the cell Miranda locked her in, feel the pain in your own neck from each syringe prick, feel the sluggish tug in your muscles from the exhaustion and hunger she must have felt herself. You still couldn't expunge the images, nor the rage and fire in your chest.

If you ever got the chance to kill Mother Miranda, you'd take it.

Your own death imminent, or not.

Eventually you plopped back on your bed face first. Nuzzling your nose into your mattress that smelled heavily of Alcina. Sandalwood, vanilla, sex and sensuality. It gave you relief. Solace, for a brief time at least.

For how long.

Yes. Alcina wondered that too.

That was one thing about being undead, she got to think. She got to think a lot.

All the time in the world to do so many things; travel, experience, taste blood from anyone she wanted, kill, destroy, make, learn, and think.

Leaving you tonight was hard.

Neither of you were safe. But she'd do anything to keep you secret. Keep you safe.

She walked with little purpose, no urgency in her steps, just bearing the load of thoughts and questions with no answers or solutions. At least, none that she was willing to accept.

New York in the early morning before daybreak was her favorite time in the city. It was still dark. Very few people bustling here and there. Something about the deep breath before the chaos of humanity ran amuck was like stumbling upon an undiscovered world only very few would ever know. She felt she could be seen here, in the now; show her face to anyone she stumbled upon and feel safe to let down her walls towering so high. Night owls flocked and mingled silently together without judgement, always.

The few who passed her on her trek to the church regarded her with wandering, curious eyes. And oh how she missed being able to bask in the innocent attention without fear of repercussion. Still, as much as she wanted to feel desired again by any who looked upon her, truly, all she wanted now was to be left alone. She wanted another life. But how many are lucky enough to be granted more than one chance? She had been. Asking for a third was greedy at best.

Alcina met a clergyman as she entered the side door of the church. He took one look at her, stiffened, dropped his gaze, painted an invisible cross in front of himself as if this blessing would save him from her, and quickly scattered off into another room. She smirked. Christians were peculiar folks. Every priest in this place knew about the vampire city underground, their comings and goings from their own church, and still after all these years they treated them as if they were Satan's spawn or Satan himself. So odd. So silly.

But she knew nothing of God or the Devil. Those two were as good as any fictional characters in any book. Her undead life skewed her already tattered view of the world, so who was she to judge their reaction. Her soul was as good as damned in their eyes, which meant nothing to her. She wasn't so sure she had a soul to begin with. As a human, her god was money, her beauty, sex, drugs, alcohol, things that made her feel anything other than pain. As a vampire, her god was time. That's all there was on this side of the fence.

Where was God when her human body was failing and she was dying?

Where was the Devil when she crossed the barrier of life and death to live immortally?

Where was salvation on any end of the spectrum?

The pew creaked as she sat to admire the stained glass. The colors were muted. Nighttime colors. No sun to illuminate the brilliant craftmanship of each hand painted chunk of glass, only the light from the chandelier above to bask in for her eyes to witness.

Mary looked lovely. Innocent. But burdened. The weight of the world placed upon her shoulders.

Alcina sighed.

Somehow, she felt it too.

How scandalously blasphemous, she thought.

She was no saint, no God-fearing woman, not one religious or pious notion about her. How could she possibly compare her woes to that of this woman, this Divine Mary?

Oh my hell, since when did this pretentious bullshit become a part of my subconscious, she scoffed.

"Cutting it close to dawn, aren't we?"

Came a voice that made her eyes roll.

"Spare me," she replied flatly and rose, turning to the familiar priest who was dwarfed by her height in the aisle next to the pew.

He stood there solidly. His white robes starch and crisp like his thin white hair.

His aged face peered up at her knowingly, "if you don't it like here, why do you spend so much time looking at it?"

Alcina didn't bother to hide her unamused facade.

"Does it matter? It's pretty to look at and it's quiet, I like quiet."

"Mmm, perhaps you might remind your... fellow comrades about the quiet factor. There have been several happenings lately that have disturbed my priests into the night."

"Noted," she stated briskly pushing passed him, annoyed already at the news as she waltzed up the aisle.

"Lady Dimitrescu..." he called after her.

Stopping, huffing, and giving the slightest acknowledgement over her shoulder at him, Alcina clicked her tongue, "yes, Father Sullivan?"

"I look forward to our upcoming meeting... and, please remember; all are welcome in God's house. All. Always."

If she could sprain her eyes from rolling them too hard this might have been the moment.

Alcina gave him all but a curt nod and began to leave. Annoyance kicked up the pace of her steps as she rounded the corner and headed for the underground entrance.

'All are welcome.' Please. As if I hadn't tried your ways when I was human. It didn't save me then and it's certainly not going to save me now. How fucking cocky. If it weren't for us vampires this church of yours would've shut down 20 some odd years ago. Our quid-pro-quo is the only thing keeping this place afloat and that's the only reason for your generosity. Our money in exchange for safe passage to our city beneath your feet. Please... you insufferable fool.

Alcina's thoughts continued to scoff and bicker. She hated dealing with the church almost as much as she did city officials. Everyone was crooked in their own ways, and money was always the bending factor. And the vampires? They had plenty.

The underground city wasn't powered simply by accident. When they were found out by an electrician and city official in the early 1900's, Mother Miranda decided to work with the humans. Money for endless power, no questions asked, and no one gets hurt. Alcina hadn't been around when the agreement was set, but as Matriarch the responsibility became hers. She trusted none of them, and it irked her to play kiss-ass to keep the peace treaty.

As she furthered her trek into the city, the more and more she thought, the more and more suffocated and claustrophobic she felt.

She didn't want any of this anymore.

All these responsibilities.

The work. The title.

To live here like a prisoner who was simply glorified by being dressed in jewels and power.

There was no freedom here.

All she wanted was her daughters, and you.

A life far away from here where you could all be free and do as you pleased.

Now there was a thought; the 5 of you living together in a whole new city, perhaps the country, somewhere far off the beaten path so no one could ever find you all. A human and 4 vampires, living a life of pure chaos she had no doubt. Alcina pondered how you and her girls would get on - with very little convincing in her mind she assumed they would be just as enamored with you as she was. Daniela would be nothing but curious and fascinated by you, eager to hear all your stories and wish to take you on adventures with her like a new-found best friend, ready to cause mayhem and trouble. Bela would be intrigued by your depth and views of the world, wishing to philosophize with you and explore books and theories galore. Cassandra... Well, Cassandra might be a little tougher to crack. But the two of you may easily be the most alike; hard on the surface, but loving and protective of those you care about, able to see the bigger picture and each angle to a situation, the ability to play devil's advocate but still hold the highest good in your heart. Alcina knew you two could have a bond very likely stronger than with the other two, if Cassandra would have it.

But then, there might be a slight awkwardness about the fact it was her daughters that caught you in the first place to be killed at the club that night.

She pursed her lips at the scenario to stifle her laughter.

"Is something quite amusing?"

Salvatore's voice instantly sent her lighter mood diving off a cliff into a ravine of pissed off.

She stopped dead in her tracks on the cobblestone, tongued her teeth and turned her head slowly in his direction.

He was standing so matter-of-factly in the nearby alley, leaning on the side of the building with his hands in his blazer pockets. Face, smug but tentative as to the fact he knew he was poking a bear that not only bit but killed at will if provoked just enough.

Alcina's eye glinted as they narrowed and she feigned a dangerous smirk.

"Is it any business of yours?" she asked, her voice low with a hint of sourness.

He shook his head gently and shuffled on his feet but didn't move, taking a hand mindfully and running it over his thinned greasy dark hair, fingers tracing his mustache thoughtfully before he took in the sight of her better.

"I see you're out and about again," he mused, "now that Mother Miranda is gone, your feeding schedule is back on track?"

He was awfully cocky for her liking right at the moment, in fact she didn't care for his sudden change in demeanor at all. Salvatore was always sheepish, shy, very mild and weak-mannered, especially around her. It was rare the man ever addressed her directly at all, not in passing or in council, so this, this was new.

Alcina felt the fire in her chest stoke at his questioning and she stepped towards him slowly, watching him calculate his standing as she moved towards him. She could smell the tension puff off around him.

"Perhaps I shall reiterate; what business is it of yours what I do at all?"

They were face to face now. Alcina staring down at him, eyes alight with temptation, begging for a reason to slice his throat and be done with his sniveling, groveling, sneaky, fake ass-kissing bullshit.

He swallowed.

"S-simply making conversation," Salvatore expanded gently, "Mother Miranda takes a lot out of all of us when she visits -uh -" he swallowed again, "you seem to be rebounding well, that is all."

More games. What the fuck was he after with this conversation?

Her eyes narrowed once more.

"I do believe I discussed this with Mother Miranda the day she left... I recall explaining to her that if you gave as much effort to things that mattered, as much as you do sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, you might actually accomplish something of importance..." Alcina took one more step closer and lowered her voice even more, "as it stands, I will not give you another warning; mind your own, Salvatore. You don't give a shit about me or my well-being, and I wouldn't give a fuck even if you did. Take your fake sincerity and nonsense 'conversation' elsewhere."

Straightening her back, Alcina studied his well manicured facade of stability and sneered.

"Now, if you'll excuse me I have to get home to my daughters."

She bade him no good day and left him standing there with quivering knees.

She didn't like that exchange one bit and stewed on it the rest of the walk back to the manor.

Whenever Mother Miranda visited he found some semblance of a cocky attitude that was always out of place. But this felt a bit too different.

Too exhausted to care much more about it Alcina made her way to her chambers and began turning in for the day.

She needed sleep just as much as she needed you there beside her in her bed. Unfortunately she'd have to settle for thoughts and dreams about it instead.

Saturday felt unusually alive for you. It was around noon when you woke but you were energetic and starving.

Mmm. Good sex will do that.

You grinned as you shuffled out of bed smelling your lover as if she was still there with you.

Taking a quick shower and donning some comfortable clothes you headed out into the city to find something to eat.

Odd thing was, nothing really sounded good.

Greek? Nah. Indian? Meh. Pizza? No. Bagels? Mmm... nah. Ethiopian? Nah. Sushi? No.

You walked for a couple blocks until you came upon a little market vendor full of fresh fruit and veggies.

Score.

Filling up your backpack with your favorites you paid and tipped the kind old lady, she winked at you and you meandered off back home with a bag of giant plump red grapes in your hand, munching away to your hearts delight in the warm summer sun.

A muffled ruckus caught your attention as you walked passed an alley and as you peered down it you noticed a group of crows bickering and fighting over an old beat up pizza box. The contents of it's old, moldy crusts and who knows what else was being picked at with attitude. You knew bread isn't great for birds to be eating and you looked down at your beautiful bag of grapes with a sigh.

Two crows began to really get into it with each other as both thought the biggest left over crust should obviously belong to the one of them, and you hollered down the alley.

"Now that's enough of that," you called as you slowly walked your way towards them.

Instead of scattering the group simply regarded you as you approached, shuffling back and away a little before you knelt and gently tossed a large clump of grapes their way.

"Listen, lay off the carbs, I know its addicting but I'd rather you not die of malnutrition or whatever... I'll share, how bout that?"

Yeah. You were talking to birds. So what.

As you stood and began to walk away they all converged on the fruit and ate with pleasure.

You smiled and made your way back home. Good deed for the day, done.

You couldn't help your thoughts as they wandered while you walked; you wondered what Alcina was really like as a human, what your lives could be like if you'd met back then, all the time you could spend together and all the things you would do. Thinking about walking hand in hand with her through the city, catching an opera at the Metropolitan Opera Theatre, adventuring through Central Park, maybe traveling the rest of the world like she had always dreamed... maybe the two of you would have found the perfect flat, or cottage, or penthouse to settle down in, get a cat or a dog or have a farm with a horse or two and just... be together for the rest of your lives.

Somehow the glee and lightheartedness of the thoughts turned somber as you walked through your door.

The rest of your lives.

You were human, she was immortal.

Shoots that concept in the face a little, doesn't it.

Unless...

Noooo, no, nope. You weren't sure you'd make a very good vampire. You liked the sun and food and freedom to live in the day and night and stuff.

But then again, if you were with Alcina, maybe it wouldn't be so bad? Maybe you could get used to being on the arm of the Grand Matriarch of the vast vampire underground. It would sure give you a lot of time to learn all the things you wanted to learn, read all the books you wanted, never have to have a 9 to 5 job ever again. Ooo... that idea you liked a hell of a lot.

But truthfully, the thought you liked the most was being with her, forever.

Evening was settling in fast as the sun started to tuck itself into bed. You plopped your beanbag chair out on the tiny balcony and lounged while reading another book, patiently waiting for your Lady of the Shadows to join you.

When the sky turned too dark to read you simply leaned back and emersed yourself in the night. Listening. Smelling. Feeling. Closing your eyes and being completely present in the now.

You were so immersed in the zone you almost thought you could sense Alcina near. Could smell her perfume on the gentle wafting breezes like so may times before, only now you felt you could hear her heels clicking softly on the sidewalk as she approached, hear the inaudible splitting of the atmosphere as she leapt through it to scale your building and gracefully climb up onto your balcony -

"Draga mea."

Her voice startled you and your eyes shot open.

Alcina's beautiful knowing smile met your gaze and you couldn't help but mirror it.

Well that was oddly and perfectly timed.

"Hey you," you lilted as you rose and met her for a slow embrace.

She smelled so wonderful you breathed her in deep as you could, holding her tight as she did the same.

Not wishing to break the embrace but needing your lips, Alcina carefully pried the two of you apart and claimed them. Soft, gentle, thoughtful kisses as she cupped your face now with her cool hands.

"I've missed you," she confessed with a whisper.

"Me too," came your reply just as softly, pulling back to admire her pale slate colored eyes, "sometimes the days feel like weeks, not gunna lie."

Alcina chuckled lightly as she caressed the side of your face, all her worries and fears and unwanted thoughts long gone, fought off by your beauty and calming aura.

"If you only knew," her smile was warm and bright, eyes twinkling with a thought, "would you care to spend some time on the roof with me, draga mea?"

"I will spend time with you literally anywhere."

Her toothy, brilliant smile was the last thing you saw before your surroundings blurred and she was carefully releasing you from her grasp on top of the building.

The silent cuddling on the couch was blissful. She was tucked into the crook of the plush chair arm, your back pressed to her chest, her long arms draped over you with her hands resting comfortably on your front, her cheek pressed to the side of your head as you both relished in the comfort of your own little world hidden above everyone and everything.

Minutes turned into hours and your unspoken conversations finally came to an end.

"Alcina," you said, tracing your fingertip over Alcina's long elegant digits that rest over your chest.

"Yes?" came her soft reply.

Your eyes darted to the scenery before you, slightly hesitant to continue.

The dull amber glow below the buildings was gentle on the eyes. The towering blackness of these structures broken apart here and there by night owls burning the midnight oil, the little glowing squares beacons of life in the otherwise dark sky. Somehow, even though you were surrounded by life, it felt like you two were the only ones in the world. It made your heart sputter.

"You and I..." you began again, "are we... what... what are we, exactly? Where is this going?"

Alcina blinked long and hard.

For a vampire, there was no need for definition of something, no need for timelines, no use for direction. Being a vampire was all about simply being. Because truly that's all there really was to do.

You were different. Of course you would want and need clarification, a plan, or at least a destination. You didn't have all the time in the world.

She sighed.

She didn't have answers.

"I... don't know draga. I had not planned for you, and I don't hold expectations of you... I only know what we have."

That... wasn't what you were looking for.

Carefully you pulled away and faced her in the darkness, studied her expression that was open and settled, waiting for you to continue.

"I'm not trying to complicate anything, I just... I don't know, I guess... maybe I'm trying to understand what we are to each other, help my mind process the feelings I have and... know in return where you stand."

Oh, you were such a complex, intelligent and deeply feeling human. You were everything she wished she could have been when she was alive.

Her heart lurched for you at your timid admission.

Alcina reached for your jaw and cupped it, considering you with all her might as she desperately fought to know how to say what she wanted to, or if she should, or what lay in the hidden doors of the very uncertain future before the two of you. She knew that's what you wanted to know, she knew you were wanting to understand what there was beyond the horizon of today, and she had no more right to tell you what she didn't know than she did keeping you in the dark.

You deserved honesty. Transparency. Only the best of everything.

Your name fell from her lips like a confession, Alcina's hesitancy to drop every guard for you putting a hitch in her words only briefly, "you..." she stalled once more, feeling the overwhelm try to sink her to the bottom, it had been so long since she had felt this way, "you are dearer to me than I feel I can make you understand... I don't have answers to where you and I are going, I don't have answers to what lies in the future, but I do know that my feelings for you are real. You are not replaceable, you are not disposable, and you are not a thing of pleasure for me to use and discard. I - "

Say it, Alcina, say it goddammit.

The words were stuck in her throat and she didn't know how to get them out.

Her flooding of emotions was pelting you like a hailstorm. Torrential, overpowering, sending you into the same careening overwhelm until you couldn't handle it anymore.

You gripped the hand that was still clasped to your jaw and inched closer, watching her chained up expression silently begging to be let loose.

In a breath you leaned in and kissed her. Hard. Pulling back just enough to utter the words you wanted, needed to.

"I love you, Alcina Dimitrescu. That's it. That's all I really want you to know."

Oh, god.

Alcina felt the piercing warmth of your admission split her armor in half, releasing the pent up flood that was imminently due to happen eventually.

Releasing the breath she had on a short leash she pressed her forehead to yours and closed her eyes as she tried to stabilize the crumbling sure-footing she thought she could be able to keep. She'd wanted to hear those words from you more than she ever wanted to admit. And here they were.

"I love you too, draga mea," she whispered, unable to keep it sealed behind her lips any longer, "I love you too, so very much."

The explosion of fervor between the two of you could have crumbled marble walls.

You fell into her and she couldn't have pulled you closer. Your lips danced and danced until a fang sliced your red and swollen bottom lip. Alcina licked hungrily at the wound and the wildfire only began to spread.

Urging her on you broke the impetuous kiss and craned your neck by her mouth, breathlessly telling her to take it, to drink, to knot the two of you together in this passion until it was too much for the both of you.

Alcina's desire took hold and she sunk her teeth in, gorging herself on your blood that made her feel more alive than ever before. Your moans and pleasure and pain fueled her need and soon she had you beneath her on the couch.

She licked and kissed at your wound and trailed her lips to yours once more, tenderly brushing them over yours that were softly panting.

"Can I keep you, draga mea?" she whispered to you, "Will you be mine?"

Weaving your way through the euphoria of her bite, you smiled at her request, beaming with pride to hear it.

"Yes, keep me, I'm yours... all yours."

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/reader #alcina dimitrescu/female reader #alcina dimitrescu/original female character #Salvatore Moreau #angst #pining #fluff #fic #fanfic #wlw #f/f #lesbian

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