#is this perhaps my favorite kitchen ever??? hard to say but it's certainly up there

[snapdragoned]

Another promotion means Tycho finally has enough money for a decent kitchen. 🍳🍴🪴

[misc-obeyme]

Ooh, headcanons! If I’m allowed to request a Solomon one though I see someone has already done that, perhaps hurt/comfort (or fluff, whichever category you find it fits in ^^) for a pretty badly depressed MC with insecurities, jealousy, emptiness, etc. It’s been an— interesting past few days 😅

(though I always feel like I would get so much better if, you know, I cross the 4th wall,, I swear all their love would cure me)

Hi there, anon!

I'm sorry you've been having a rough time recently. I hope things start to look up for you soon! I can relate to those feelings, so it was pretty easy for me to write this. I definitely think their love would be the thing that could heal us all! Since they're fictional, though, the best I can do is offer these words of comfort. Know I wrote it from my heart. 💕

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Solomon hurt/comfort headcanons

Warnings: MC is depressed, dealing with feelings of emptiness and insecurity

Solomon notices that something is off with you. He can tell that you're struggling with something. He'll still wait a little bit to see if you come to him first, if you tell him you need his help. If you do, he will drop everything to help you. He has done his best to make sure you feel like you can always come to him for help. But he knows that sometimes it's hard to ask for help when you need it. So if too much time goes by, he'll bring it up carefully himself.

You might try to hide it still. You might answer his questions by saying you're fine, that there's nothing to worry about. Solomon will see right through this. And he knows exactly what he needs to do or say to get you to open up. He'll smile a little - it's a knowing smile, the one that says you can't hide the truth from me, MC.

Even if you choose not to say it out loud, Solomon doesn't really need you to. He can tell just from looking at you that you're struggling and really, that's all he needs to know. He thinks of things that would make you feel better, anything to lift your spirits. He'll go out of his way to get you things you enjoy, such as your favorite food. He knows not to make it himself because he's aware that having him in the kitchen adds to your stress. He'll do little things to comfort you while he waits for you to tell him how you feel.

You can keep pushing, but eventually you'll break down and when you do, he's there to hold you. You find yourself crying in his arms, telling him about how all you feel is empty. You tell him that there is no point to your life, that you're useless, that you're numb. That every day is full of pain and you don't know why. Maybe you say that you're not worthy to be his apprentice, that you're not worthy to be his friend. You're not worth any of his time.

Solomon will listen to you say all of these things. He has to try to hold in his anger at hearing them. It upsets him to think you feel this way about yourself. But he also knows you need to let it out. So he only holds you and listens, frowning the whole time. When your words devolve into sobbing, he finally speaks. He tells you that all he wants is to take that pain away.

He tells you that he doesn't know how to change how you feel. He knows that just saying it isn't true won't be enough. He'll say it over and over again, though. He'll tell you until he's blue in the face that he loves you, that you're more than enough, that you're the best apprentice he's ever had and he's so proud of you. He'll tell you that he thinks you're amazing for each day that you survive while feeling this way.

Solomon will also tell you that he has felt that way before himself. That he knows that feeling of sorrow and emptiness. He'll tell you that he never had anyone to turn to in those times. And now all he wants is to be the one you turn to when you're suffering. You wouldn't begrudge him that, would you?

Maybe it takes some time. And certainly he can't fix everything for you in a single night. But give him a chance, MC. Let him hold you, let him carry a little of your burden. Solomon will tell you that he is always there, that he'll always be by your side.

Solomon will hold you close for a long time. He won't let you go until he can tell you're feeling a little bit better. He'll kiss away all of your tears, hold your face in his hands, and look into your eyes. He'll kiss you gently, tentatively - he needs you to feel how much he loves you. No matter where you go, no matter what you do, Solomon will always be there for you to return to. When you feel like you're falling, he will catch you because in his arms, you'll be home.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[ohtomatotome]

Watch

—----------

Title: “Watch”

Characters: Comte de Saint-Germain, Sebastian x Female Reader (Ikemen Vampire)

Word Count: 1,598

Rating: E

Tags: Jealousy, Unrequited love, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex

Trigger Warnings: Broken Trust?

Author’s Note: Part of #VisionsOfTemptation2022 for Kinktober (prompt credit to @xxsycamore ). This one is angsty. Why do I hurt Comte? I certainly don’t hate him. In fact, he’s my favorite character in the game.  It seems like everything I write for him has him either panicking, pining, pouting, or putting an end to a fight. Perhaps because in the game he appears serene and capable on the outside, so I enjoy seeing him struggle with something that really challenges his composure. 

Prompt Used: Voyeurism

—----------

It had started out so innocent, so seldom, so unattached.

When you arrived at the Parisian mansion in the 1890s, le Comte was the perfect host. He had assumed the father-figure role for most of the vampires there, and that same paternal regard was extended to you. You felt safe within his careful gaze. How could you know heat lurked beneath the gentle smile?

The truth was far more expansive than you ever realized. He was always watching.

When you were receiving idle flirtations from Arthur and Dazai, he had seen your flustered blush.

When Napoleon surprised you with his innocent morning kiss, he had been outside the door.

When you were relaxing in the thermae, he had hid himself in the corner obscured by steam and plants. Later that night would be the first in a countless string of nights he had jerked himself off while picturing you.

When you were trying so hard to impress Sebastian, he saw the determination on your face. 

When you had reached a boiling point of frustration with trying to understand your feelings for Sebastian, he watched you run to Leonardo for consolation. 

When a special spark of electricity passed between your gaze with Sebastian one evening at dinner, he didn’t miss it.

When you and Sebastian were working side by side in the kitchen and exchanging lingering glances and quick little kisses, he had been watching from the hallway.

He had been a silent witness to all your important moments in the mansion. He had held his tongue for too long and let the chance slip away. He could have easily made a romantic impression on you from the very beginning, sweeping you off your feet and making sure you looked at no one but him. 

But he hadn’t. 

That would have been selfish.

Besides, you would be leaving in one month, so what would have been the point to secure your affections?

How was he to know that the Door would malfunction for so long and trap you here in the past?

In the interim, you fell in love with Sebastian, and he with you. Everyone was happy for the both of you. It seemed only natural for the two humans to pair up. 

It would have been unnatural if you had chosen a vampire, to say nothing of a pureblood. 

Unnatural, indeed.

Never had jealousy felt so personal to le Comte.

When your relationship was becoming more intimate, you began fretting over the plain and matronly state of your underthings. They had been a bulk delivery of identical pieces that Comte bought as soon as you arrived. You hadn’t had a say in it. You were grateful at the time, but now you wish you had something a little more exciting to wear, since there was someone in your life who was going to see you naked. Eventually. 

Le Comte watched you grumbling as you pawed through her dresser. Of course he was there, out in the hall, watching. “Would you like something new? Any particular item in mind? Let me buy it for you. Come, ma cherie, let’s go shopping.” 

He watched you run your hand over the silk drawers and camisoles in the shop. His vivid imagination pictured your shapely form being hugged by that champagne fabric, visualized your hand gliding down his own bare stomach and reaching lower, the new light of dawn dappling your skin. 

“Monsieur?” Your perky voice brought him out of his reverie.

Of course he had to have you try them on to make sure they fit. He insisted on standing guard right outside the dressing room. He smirked as he heard the rustle of fabric and your delighted cooing. There was immense pleasure to be taken in the knowledge of you wearing the lingerie at his request first, before Sebastian ever got to see them. And even greater pleasure knowing that he was the one purchasing the items that would be closest to your nakedness.

—------

He also happened to watch as you boldly led a red-faced Sebastian into your room one night. 

Le Comte decided to indulge his own selfish fantasies for once. As soon as you closed your door, he silently locked himself in the room next to yours. This unused room held a secret known only to him: a peep hole through the back of the closet that was hidden behind the tapestry hung in your room, threads strategically thinned out in that exact spot. The surveillance was originally needed for a suspicious house guest Comte did not trust. He hadn’t used it in decades. 

His watchful eyes were on your every move as you began to loosen your layers of constrictive clothing, shimmying out of them until you were only clad in the very same lingerie he had bought you. Le Comte observed this fact with pride and satisfaction. And envy. Always envy, that ever-present thorn in his heart.

You encouraged Sebastian to undress next, kissing him as he undid his many buttons and snaps. Now the two of you are just in your underwear, the candlelight and moonlight cooperating to give your curves the most delectable shadows and highlights. You made a slow show of removing the silk slip until the only thing touching your skin was the pale light.

Le Comte longingly contemplated your bare beauty and silently cursed the butler for not grabbing your hips to see how the plump flesh gave under the pressure of a squeeze. He heard you say something in a low, sultry voice, but even with vampiric hearing could not make out all the words. The hungry tone, however, was unmistakable. It waltzed down his spine deep into his belly. That tone was the last inducement he needed before unbuttoning his pants and taking out his member, already stiffening and begging to be stroked.

Sebastian didn't need any further coaxing either. After you laid on the bed he began working between your legs with his mouth and fingers, making up for with enthusiasm what he lacked in experience. Le Comte watched your lips with rapt attention, how they opened and closed around silent gasps. Each inhale of yours was matched with a stroke of his hand down his cock. Sebastian continued until you were mewling and your thighs started to twitch involuntarily with pleasurable spams. 

You pleaded in a husky voice for your lover to fill you, clutching at his hair and tugging him up towards your body. Le Comte had to be careful now, his heavy breaths were difficult to keep silent. He strained to see your face as Sebastian entered you. Exquisite. Sublime. Perfect.  The low moan you let out was enough to shake Comte so badly he had to hold onto the wall for support before he erupted. He was close, but he wanted to hold out as long as possible and cum at the same time as you.

Sebastian staggered the pace of his thrusting, sometimes fast and hard, sometimes slow and deep. Comte tried to time his fist strokes along with your sounds, imagining it is him that was making her sound so wanton and needy. In his fantasy, you had always come to his room when you needed consoling. It was his shoulder that you had cried onto. It was his arms that you found solace. It was his eyes that you desperately wanted to capture. It was his heart that you fought to uncover. It was his soul that you had desired. It was him that you loved. Him. Not Leo, not Sebastian, not anyone else. He was the only one who gave you everything you needed.

Right at that moment, he closed his eyes as his mind was painting a picture of the two of you making love in the garden gazebo at midnight. He could almost smell the night-blooming phlox and hear the crickets. You’re lying beneath him, gazing up at him with eyes full of love and lust. Oh! If only you had ever looked at him like that, just once. Just once. Just…

Your sighs and gasps turned breathier and higher-pitched. Le Comte knew you must be close to a climax. He resumed a rapid motion on his shaft, eagerly awaiting that triumphant sound. He peered through the hole once more to see your back arching off the mattress, legs wrapped around Sebastian, mouth open in a silent pull of air, and then – your little shriek that almost made his dick jump out of his hand. Your following moan was all he needed to chase his own finish. He had a handkerchief ready and caught every drop as his chest shuddered with shaky breaths. 

The guilt was immediate. He felt dirty and despicable to his core. A sudden gloom overtook him as he splayed a palm out against the wall for support. The elegant mouth turned down in utter disgust at himself.

What was he doing?

You had trusted him. You looked up to him as a benefactor, as the respected master of the manor. As a friend. 

And this was how he repaid your trust?

Deplorable. Sickening. Unforgivable. Reprehensible. 

Self-hatred and self-pity overwhelmed him. He buttoned up his fly and stuffed the soiled handkerchief into a pocket.

He could hear the couple renewing their love-making as he silently moved out of the closet and into the dark room. Anguish pierced his chest. Shame soured his mind. He didn’t know how long he sat in that room, letting the sounds of bed springs and pleasurable grunts float over him, wishing for something that would never be.

[seraphiism]

❀ ﾟ. ༄ ┊ 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 ;

characters : itto / diluc

↬ itto ࿐ ࿔

you wake up frightened on valentine's day. it's seven in the morning and you're greeted with an outburst of pots and pans clashing, not to mention the clang of a baking tray as it hits the ground. itto's noises of distress reach your ears, and you swear that you actually hear him shush the baking utensils as they roll across the floor.

you consider for a moment that a war has broken out in your kitchen-- itto and cooking, after all, are sworn enemies ( so he declares, and this one time, you might actually agree ).

grogginess weighs heavy on your body, but curiosity motivates your steps as you hesitantly make your way to the kitchen, and what do you know : it's exactly as you expect.

it's a mess. an absolute mess. dishes everywhere, dishrags and napkins scattered about as if they could save your home from the catastrophe known as itto.

"this area is prohibi--" itto's voice is strong and as rambunctious as ever, perhaps even more so in effort to keep the surprise hidden. the words are cut off by the cloud of flour that fills the air, and he's suddenly coughing like he just inhaled the whole bag.

"-- do not enter!' he manages to finish, his distraught expression meeting your bewildered one. you're almost tempted to help him, ease some of the despair and fleeting determination practically radiating off his body.

you listen anyway, find something to distract yourself in the meantime ( but it's hard, really, with all the hectic background noise ). hours later and itto comes from the kitchen, worn and disheveled, but the grin on his face says that he's triumphant. ( the apron, however, looks like it's been through hell and back, but admittedly, he looks very cute in it. )

in his hands are a tray full of cookies-- beetle shaped cookies, actually.

"for you, my valentine!"

yes, you most certainly are surprised. the smile that crosses your lips is one that brings validation to a certain oni, a loud sigh of relief releasing tension from his body.

"thank you, love." you press gentle butterfly kisses against his cheeks before your lips meet his, and he is granted with the knowing that these few hours of struggle were very much worth it ( but for you, itto thinks, anything is worth it ). "happy valentine's day."

( it turns out that he did, in fact, use salt instead of sugar, which was also another surprise, but you kind of love it all the more, you think. )

↬ diluc ࿐ ࿔

you once told diluc that red was your favorite color. it was a fleeting moment then, the initiation of small talk in a quiet tavern nearing closing hours. he tried not to think much of it, truthfully, but there was something so wondrous and fascinating in the tenderness of your voice and visage when you spoke.

the bouquet of roses in hand remind him of that day. he finds it a bit embarrassing, and he most definitely did not consider asking jean for advice ( or lisa, even, because what quicker way to death is there than to ask her for romantic advice? )

no, diluc is not one for confessions and dramatic displays of adoration; if he has to be honest, he's gone through a thousand what-ifs, rehearsed this ten times over, and he still doesn't know what he's doing.

is he nervous? absolutely. will he regret this? possibly.

but he knows that the path to love is a long and difficult one at times, and sometimes you have to jump before you're pushed. so he waits at your doorstep, adjusting his gloves for the third time in the past twenty seconds.

you open your door to the sight of flowers and a faint, timid smile on diluc's lips. it's one of kindness and a softness you catch sight of more often nowadays; you would be a fool to deny that it didn't make your heart beat a little faster every time you noticed it.

"red roses," he starts, absentmindedly clearing his throat a little too loudly. and how bizarre it is, this tightness in his chest-- overwhelming and uncomfortable, but safe and warm in its presence. "you once said red was your favorite color." he explains. "i thought of you when i saw them."

there it is again-- that brilliant smile that blossoms so brightly when you take the flowers from him, your hold cautious and gentle.

"thank you, diluc." the words come out breathlessly, and the joy on your face makes him realize that all his doubts and fears were undoubtedly for nothing. you pause, your gaze meeting his before shifting to the roses once more. "do you know why red is my favorite color?"

he stays silent, shakes his head. there is a hope that ignites in the strings of his heart, and even if he could fathom a response, he does not know what to say in this moment. he waits, instead, and he hopes that he is right about where this road leads with you.

"it reminds me of you, diluc."

he wonders if you have always looked at him with such love in your eyes, your laughter filling the cold air when you point out how flushed his face is.

( the path to love is never an easy one, but with without a single doubt, he will gladly explore it with you. )

[mercy-burning]

No Fun

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Everyone knows there’s no fun in friends without benefits. (Inspired by the song Friends Without Benefits by Chloe Collins) Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, drinking, oral sex (fem receiving), mention of male receiving oral sex, penetrative/unprotected sex, creampie Word Count: 3.4k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello! Sorry my scheduling has been all over the place lately, as I’m sure you’re probably tired of hearing about at this point 😅 But, No Fun is finally out!! (It was also a very good way for me to ease myself back into writing after recovering from my cold alsdjflsdkjf) Also, if you don’t follow Chloe on TikTok (or any social, really) you should! She’s super sweet and writes all her songs about Criminal Minds. This one’s my favorite, though! It’s such a vibe, I hope you’ll all give it a listen! 😊❤

***

Her eyes opened of their own accord. No alarm, no ring of the cellphone, no hand on her shoulder accompanied by the voice of one of her co-workers saying they'd finally landed... She liked it that way. Not only because it meant she had that rare peace and quiet first thing in the morning—though that was definitely a perk. It also meant that she was most likely at Spencer's apartment.

In his bed.

In his shirt.

As her eyes adjusted to the golden warmth that beamed through the curtains, she stretched out her arms and legs, knowing full well that he was in the kitchen; He was always in the kitchen, ever the early bird.

Speaking of, the smell of coffee started to permeate into the bedroom, and it comforted her further as she rose into a seated position. In a matter of minutes, the coffee would be ready, and Spencer would be waiting patiently, sipping from his own cup while hers sat untouched at the spot across from him.

Normally, she would get dressed and meet him out there, but upon remembering all the delicious things that happened in that kitchen the night before, she was feeling a little devious.

So she got out of bed and removed her underwear, leaving her in just his shirt, which barely covered her ass. She was going to leave them in the bedroom, but after a split second decision, she ended up striding out into the kitchen with the garment dangling from her fingers.

"Good morning," she sang, standing in front of the kitchen counter. It covered her lower half, so the only indication of her indecent exposure took form of the fabric in her hand.

Spencer was reading something, not bothering to look up as he spoke. "Good morning. Your coffee's how you like it. I thought we could stop at the gas station on the way in to get something to eat."

"Yeah, that's fine," she responded, setting the underwear on the counter and picking up her coffee. "But I was hoping you would eat me instead."

She nonchalantly lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip as he finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes glanced down at the counter as if to say, Look...

And he did.

The seductive sparkle in his eye at the sight in front of him sent a drip of excitement into her bloodstream that rippled throughout her whole body. It always had.

That's initially what drew her to him in the first place. Yeah, it was common knowledge to anyone that Spencer was intelligent, endearing, and handsome, but it was his flirty side that really got Y/N going. It didn't come out often, if at all— unless he was drunk or with the person of his affections.

Y/N found this out when the team threw him an impromptu birthday party last year. After discovering that he hadn't reminded anyone of his thirtieth birthday, Emily immediately called Penelope back home to start planning, and she looped everyone in before they landed later that night. Y/N herself was kind of disappointed with herself for even fathoming the idea of forgetting her friend's birthday, especially since she'd known him for years and celebrated his birthday with him and their friends before.

So before the party that night, she decided to go out and get him something. Only, she couldn't find anything, and it was on her way back when everyone was wondering where she was that Y/N started to question whether or not she really deserved to be considered his friend.

It didn't stop her from putting on a happy face and celebrating his birthday to the fullest, though— She showed up and hugged him immediately, holding onto him perhaps a little too long before offering to give him anything he wanted as compensation for forgetting his birthday, and his thirtieth at that. Of course, he insisted that she didn't really have to do anything for him, but she knew that was just him being himself.

Nonetheless, the party moved along, and with pretty much everyone out of his apartment after a long night of drinking and cake and celebration, Spencer and Y/N were the only two left, buzzed and sitting a little too close.

After convincing him to let loose and have a little fun on his 'special day', Y/N had managed to get him to help her finish an entire bottle of wine. And he'd been making his way through a few beers as the sun set and the stars came out.

And then he started looking at her weird.

That was the only way she could have described it in her drunken state, but it was certainly true, if only for the fact that it wasn't a look she'd ever seen from him before. His eyes were wide, pupils blown to almost full dilation, and his tongue kept dancing behind his lips like he was tracing out some sort of invisible pattern.

When she confronted him about it, drunkenly giggling and asking why he was looking at her like that, he laughed back and flat-out told her, "Have I ever told you how pretty y'are?" And she didn't even get a chance to respond before he continued. "Y/N, you're really pretty... Like, you're the prettiest woman I-ever seen."

"You're pretty, too, y'know, birthday boy," she laughed, smiling incredibly wide. Her whole body was practically on fire, and it only got hotter when he leaned in and kissed her, hard and sloppy, and with purpose.

They went on that night, stumbling around every square inch of his apartment while mumbling drunken compliments and haphazardly throwing aside their clothes until they woke up the next morning in his bed, naked, hungover, and absolutely shocked by what had happened.

Things at work were significantly more awkward, as to be expected, but as the days went on, the more they started to catch little stolen glances and shared recovered memories of what really happened.

More specifically, Y/N couldn't stop replaying these few sentences in her head, on a loop in between flashes of hands in hair and tongues on skin...

"You said you'd give me anything I wanted, right? What if I want you?"

"Then go ahead... Have me."

...Have me...

They met up in the parking lot one day after work and simultaneously blurted out in their own words how they couldn't stop thinking about what happened and how much they wanted to do it again...

And they did.

That seductive sparkle in his eye was there when he kissed her that first night on his birthday, it was there just before they started making out in the parking lot just a week later, and it was there now as he looked down at her panties on the table and then flitted his gaze up to meet hers.

Y/N's body buzzed with a thrill as Spencer made his way around the kitchen counter and dropped to his knees as she sat on the barstool and spread her legs for him.

***

They were late for work that morning.

To make it inconspicuous, Y/N showed up ten minutes after Spencer did— maybe a little exaggerated, but it didn't raise any suspicions. It might have sucked when as soon as she walked in everyone was on their way out to go to the airstrip, Hotch with his phone in hand and ready to dial her number, but nobody suspected a thing.

Spencer threw a little smirk at her as he passed, and she resisted the urge to smack his ass out of spite.

She would have done it, too, but there were two specific rules they'd set once they decided to regularly sleep together, and one of them was that nothing could happen at work or around their friends. And regardless of how badly they wanted to steal kisses or touches at work, their arrangement meant too much to compromise. Once either rule was broken, their little friends with benefits excursion would be immediately void.

Unfortunately, after a flight that was absolutely laced with their sexual tension and once they'd landed in Minnesota for this latest case, they both shared a look that practically set in stone the undeniable, inevitable truth.

They were obsessed.

The whole ordeal was incredibly exhilarating, already an inevitable outcome when it came to regularly sleeping with a co-worker, but what they weren't counting on was just how thrilling it was. Almost a year into their extracurricular activities and they were spending just about every free moment attached by mouths and hands and limbs. And as time progressed it became increasingly more difficult to keep to themselves, needing to be in proximity to one another constantly.

That's not to say they weren't excellent at handling it, though.

Sure, the burning in their veins at the sight of one another after knowing what it was like to be intimate was excruciating, and being paired together on cases knowing that they couldn't break any rules had them feeling like they were going to drown... But the pay-off after a long period of time with no physical contact was absolutely worth it.

All the secrecy and the holding back made it that much explosive when they finally got a decent moment alone.

Right now they were on their way back from a week-long case in Georgia.

And maybe it was fucked up, but once the team realized it was going to be rather grueling, the first thing Y/N thought was how better her stress relief was going to be when they finally finished. The second she thought it, she briefly glanced over at Spencer and saw that he had the same look on his face.

Even during the jet ride home, they were sitting on opposite sides while everyone slept around them, staring at each other and only breaking eye contact when someone rustled in their sleep.

Grueling images of the things they'd seen in the past week danced between them alongside flashes of all the things they wanted to do to each other as compensation. They heard faint screams and gunshots muffled by the high moans and shouts of each others' names, heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin...

The only word that sat between them as they clamored into Spencer's car and drove off was, "Drive."

It was late. They were exhausted and alert all at the same time. Their bodies were practically on fire. Y/N's leg bounced rapidly as Spencer's fingers tapped the steering wheel with fervor and impatience. And when he knew there would be no one around to pull them over for speeding, he stepped on the gas harder, and their heartbeats picked up right alongside their speed.

Even the walk up to his apartment was laced with impatience, Y/N's leg still bouncing as Spencer unlocked the door.

They rushed through it the second there was a tiny sliver of light from the dim nightlight she knew he kept in the entryway.

And then it was beautiful, heavenly chaos.

The door slammed loudly as Spencer leaned his whole body weight against Y/N, sending her flying towards it. They were drawn together like a magnet to a fridge, a moth to a flame, days of pent-up frustration and tension beginning its firework show right there in his entryway as their mouths clashed together.

No amount of contact was good enough it seemed, because it was just constant movement. Their hands wandered and their bodies pressed into each other continuously as they kissed the breath out of each other. Even still, they continued all the way to his bedroom, grunting while bumping into furniture and walls and doorways, but never daring to separate an inch all the same.

"God, I needed you," Spencer whispered once his bedroom door was shut. His hands tugged at her shirt and tried to get the buttons done as he continued. "All fucking week, you were just right there and I couldn't touch you..."

Y/N pressed her mouth to his and started hastily unbuttoning his shirt as well. After a few seconds, he pulled his mouth away and started to speak again, his fingers still trying to get her shirt undone. "I need it bad..."

With a frustrated grunt, Y/N pulled him in closer by the collar of his shirt and hissed into his mouth, "Then shut up and fucking take it..."

Her words kicked him in the ass and shot him forward, sending them flying towards the door once again. She yelped at the sharp pain that came and went as her back hit the wood, but with Spencer's hands finally tearing open her shirt and settling on her bare waist as he practically shoved his tongue down her throat, she couldn't complain.

Both of their shirts came off, and as soon as they hit the floor her hands went to his hair. She tugged on the wavy locks, a soft moan escaping her as he dipped his hands under the back of her bra and worked the clasp. It came off quickly, as it always did, and once it hit the floor he leaned down and gave her breasts all his attention. His tongue swirled around her nipples one my one, littering her skin with kisses in between and reveling in the way she kept tugging on his hair each time he gently tugged a nipple with his teeth.

Eventually, they both couldn't take any more, Y/N pushing his head down while tugging down her slacks and Spencer being glad she did, using his hands to assist her.

Having known for about a year now how heavenly his mouth was when it worked at her wasn't even a fair warning for the intensity of the shudders that soared through her body when his lips made contact with her clit just then. She let out a loud, broken cry of relaxation and relief and pure ecstasy as he practically devoured her.

His tongue was gliding through her with ease, ravening groans erupting from his throat and sending more sharp waves of excitement through Y/N's bloodstream with every passing second. His ministrations were quick and greedy, sloppy yet precise. And when he added his fingers to the mix, she gripped his hair tight and cried out his name, tensing at the sweet, burning stretch they provided.

That only drove him more wild, his tongue flicking over her clit faster while his fingers pumped, curled, and dragged languidly inside of her. He worked to pull every ounce of pleasure from her body, all while squeezing his eyes shut and losing himself in the taste of her, the way her thighs lightly trembled over his face and the desperate clutches of her fingers in his hair...

He wanted all of it. All of her.

He also wanted to hear that sound she made when he was helping her through the peak of her orgasm— a high, dreamy cry that boiled his insides and turned him into an animal.

And there it was, with just three more quick pumps of his fingers. It started off soft, though he knew the second he sucked on her clit and grazed her g-spot with his fingers it would careen higher and louder, right into that perfect pitch that he wished he could hear for eternity. Her thighs shook almost violently around his head, her fingers clawing at his scalp so tight that he felt little pinpricks of pleasure run down the back of his head and through his neck.

Y/N came down soon after, her voice resorting to small whimpers and pants as she tried to push his head away. But it wasn't until she actually tugged his hair up that Spencer finally retreated and got up off the floor.

"I thought you wanted me to take it?" he panted, already missing the warmth of her legs over his face.

She reached down and started toying with his belt, pulling him closer by the leather and throwing him a smirk. "Yeah, but now I wanna take it."

Before she could sink to her knees, though, he stopped her, walking her towards the bed and sitting her down as he finished taking off his pants. "Another time... Right now I need to be inside of you."

The urgency dripping in his voice and through his movements made Y/N burn all over again, and really, who was she to argue? Yeah, maybe she wanted to suck the living soul out of him, but his eagerness to get to the main event gave her the opportunity to treat him tomorrow morning. Spencer was always hard in the morning (at least on the rare occasion that she'd wake up before he did), and the thought of his sleepy groans and whines as she slowly worked his cock with her mouth was more than enough to keep her satisfied until then.

It also made her incredibly wet and ready, which was convenient when he climbed over her and bent her legs back, leaning forward and sinking into her in no time at all.

The sounds that came out of their mouths right then were exceedingly pornographic. It had been too long since their last sexual encounter, and even though they'd been at it plenty of times before, it still felt as intense and fresh as the first few times.

As aforementioned, they were obsessed.

Their song and dance of skink on skin never got old. Time and time again, it was like they'd never touched before, every feeling so intense it was like they were on the top of a rollercoaster that just kept falling and falling with no end in sight.

Every time he snapped his hips forward and and stretched her wide, her insides crumbled apart and gave way to his storm. She embraced his using of her body for pleasure, and he gave her the best orgasms in turn.

As of right now, she was caught between wanting to look down between their bodies to watch him fuck her and laying back to let it happen— take it all in that way and lose herself in the moment.

Though, she settled on the former, just as she always did, because watching Spencer fuck her was always the more exciting option. Especially when he was as urgent as he was now.

She watched with her bottom lip out in a pout as he fucked her, taking notice of how his hands looked gripping her waist and how his stomach tensed with every movement. Her eyes wandered over the planes of his body, and then finally his face. Usually he'd be so focused on the task at hand that his eyes would barely be open, taking in every ounce of pleasure that he possibly could, and that was exactly the case here. Fluttering eyes, pouty lips, flushed face, hair damp and wild as ever...

It drove her half mad.

"Harder," she demanded, reaching out and pulling him closer by the ass.

Spencer was more than happy to comply, a satisfied huff of laughter coming from him as he leaned down and sharpened his movements. His hips were heavier, pinning Y/N down into the mattress with every thrust forward, consequently drawing a little whimper from her each time.

To take it a step further and complete her request, he leaned back a little and pushed her legs open and wide, spreading her further and pinning her down that way to give his hips more driving force.

Unsurprisingly, neither of them lasted long after that.

Y/N shouted his name into the air, leaning her head back as her body tensed and gave in to his force. And he fucked her through it, his grunts gradually getting louder until his hips pushed into hers one final time, at which point he leaned down and put more of his weight on top of her.

As he filled her with his release, she sighed out, clenching herself around him and reveling in his warmth. Whether it was the warmth inside of her or the warmth he provided by blanketing her body with his own, she was glad for its presence. There was nothing else she'd rather have felt after a hard week at work—or any hard feat, really—than Spencer.

He retracted his warmth once they'd settled, however, removing himself from the bed on shaky limbs to grab wipes on the other side of the room.

And of course, Y/N admired him the whole way, flashing him a devilish wink when he inevitably caught her staring.

***

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[myficdump]

Love Letters From a Stalker

The Yandere Sam mod gave me the motivation/inspiration to write this. So although I had Sam in mind for this fic, you could imagine the yandere as any Stardew Valley character since I never reveal who it is. Reader/Player is gender-neutral. 

CW: Stalking, Sexual content but it’s more horror than sexy.

Got a request? :)

___________________

Moving to the valley was like a breath of fresh air in the beginning. Although taking care of the farm was hard work, you loved it out here. You loved having a home bigger than the crummy apartment you lived in back in the city and you especially loved all the space up here. Not to mention the quiet and lack of close neighbors. There wasn’t anyone out here to slam their first on your door or the other side of the wall and scream at you for being too loud or stomping a bit too hard on your floors. 

It was great! Until it very well wasn’t. 

Someone was stalking you. You were so sure of it. It was terrifying and you wish you were wrong. But you kept finding things missing. Clothes-  part of you cringes every time you dwell too long on the fact that it’s mostly your underwear that’s been stolen- trinkets like a snow globe or picture frames that contained just you, and some of the gems you brought back from the mines. Originally you had planned on chalking this up to a simple robbery since practically everyone in town knew you weren't home on certain days, but then the letters had started popping up. They started out okay, but quickly deteriorated from innocent to disturbing. 

  "You did amazing at the Egg Hunt! I’m so glad you won. Congrats on the cool hat and for finally beating Abigail. She’s won ever since Alex stopped participating. Which was years ago.”

  “Are you growing strawberries? I saw you buying some at Pierre’s stand during the Egg Festival but they’re going to die soon :(. You planted them too late, you’re supposed to save them for next year so they can be planted at the beginning of spring and give you lots of strawberries.”

  “I wish you asked me to dance with you at the Flower Dance :(. At least you didn’t have to wear one of those dorky suits or the scratchy dresses. I’ve heard Abigail complain that it hurts and really itches. I’ve heard even Haley say the same thing to Alex and Alex in turn complained about how tight the suits are. So you really dodged a bullet. But dancing with you would have been so nice. Your farmer's outfit makes you look so nice :). 

  “Saw you fishing at the beach today! You look so cute, I wish you’d invite me sometime :) <3” 

  “My dear Farmer, why do you keep talking to so many people? I understand that you need to leave the farm to do errands but does getting seeds warrant talking to so many people?” 

  “They don’t know you like I do. I know you better, I know even the things that you don’t ever tell or show anyone. Like your favorite pair of underwear to wear, your favorite seeds to plant, how you like to eat blueberries every chance you get when you grow them. I know more than you might ever know.”

 This was only the tip of the iceberg. You had received far too many letters to show. None of them were ever signed, not even with a “Secret Admirer”. The letters were just written out like notes and the truly long letters just seemed to end when the writer stopped their train of thought. But the worst ones were the sexual ones. Those truly scared you. 

 “ :O Wow you really have stamina! :) Watching you touch yourself over and over was so hot. I promise I’ll make sure to properly please you when we’re together.”

 After this letter, you rushed to buy curtains for the windows in your house. The black ones in your room were never pulled back. You had to buy them from JojaMart and you felt guilty for not going to Pierre, but it had to be done. You felt so violated. No letters like the one above had been sent again. The stalker just expressed disappointment over the curtains but had instead taken to describing their sick fantasies to you. 

You were at a loss on what to do. Pelican Town had no police, only Luis and telling him was certainly not going to help. Not to be rude, but he was a shitty mayor. Besides you, Robin was the only one who tried to actually do anything for this town but there was only so much she could do without the aid of magical beings. 

“Oh Yoba,” you mutter, holding your head in your hands. “Luis would announce to the whole town my stalker problem.”

Definitely not telling him. 

-SNAP-

Hearing a loud noise outside, you shoot up from your couch. Heart racing, you inch over to the kitchen window. Was it your stalker? What would you do if it was? You had your sword but using it on something other than a monster was frightening. Were you really prepared to hurt someone? 

Peeking behind the curtain, you let out a sigh. It was just a wilderness golem. You were safe. For now. What a relief. If it really was your stalker out there you were a goner. Having no close neighbors meant there was no one around to hear you scream.

You sat back down on the couch and once again pondered what you should do about the situation. Eventually, long after your fireplace went dark, you headed to bed. 

****

Your hands shook as you held the note. Would the stalker ever stop? It was Fall and they had sent so many to you at this point. What a great waste of paper. Taking a deep breath, you opened up the letter. 

  “You should stay home tomorrow. I’d make you scream louder than that stupid maze ever would ;).” 

 Oh, that wasn’t so bad. Pretty tame compared to what you’ve been getting recently. Perhaps you really jinxed yourself because what happened next was much worse. As you placed the letter back into the envelope, you noticed a picture. 

Your eyes went wide and a choked gasp left your throat. It was a picture of your underwear, the crotch smeared with cum. Written on the bottom was: 

Can’t wait to cum inside you :). 

 Knowing what your stolen underwear was being used for caused bile to rise in your throat. The picture was quickly shoved back into the envelope along with the letter. 

“Oh shit, oh  shit. What do I do?” You croaked. “Oh Yoba what do I do. I save these as evidence but what can I do?” 

Deciding you didn’t want to be alone you shoved on your boots and dashed to town. You had sprinklers, the crops would be fine. You just needed to hang out at Pierre’s until the Saloon opened and then you could lurk in there, feeling safe with other people. 

A few minutes later, a figure crept out from their hiding spot and stepped onto your porch. A white present in your favorite pair of underwear was left waiting for you on your bed.

[plus-size-reader]

Allies

Matt Murdock x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2075 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Wilson Fisk’s daughter learns something very interesting about her past, something that leads her right to Matt Murdock’s doorstep

——————————————————————————————————

You wanted him dead.

Never in your life had you wanted your father dead, not as incredible as he’d always been to you, but that had all changed recently.

Wilson Fisk, the most wonderful father in the world, had always done everything he could for you. There was nothing you wanted that you hadn’t gotten, in all your life.

As far as the material things life had to offer, you always had everything you wanted, but there was one thing that you couldn’t forget. There was one thing that you wanted more than anything that he couldn’t give to you.

...and that same thing, was the one thing he’d taken from you, it seemed.

Your mother, an angel walking among the monsters of this planet, had died when you were fourteen years old. She was in an accident, laid up in the hospital for a week, and then died in the middle of the night.

Ever since then, all you wanted was her. You wanted to hear her voice again, to hug her again, but that wasn’t a luxury you had. No one did, no matter how much they wanted it.

That was what your dad told you, whenever you asked about her. He said that he wanted the same, that he missed her dearly, but you were beginning to think that was all a lie.

You heard him talking about her, to Wesley, the biggest weasel of all time. He talked about how the events unfolded, how he tried to fake an accident, and how she wasn’t supposed to survive.

He talked about having to find a way to ‘put her down’ from the hospital, while she slept in that bed. That was how he phrased it, like putting down a rabid dog.

It was nearly enough to make you sick.

You weren’t supposed to hear it, supposed to ever learn the truth, but that didn’t change the fact that you did. From the moment those words left his lips, you could hardly look at him.

However, there was a sort of beauty in the way you found out. You were able to find out without having to figure out the hard way, and no one knew that you knew.

It was all you’d been waiting for.

For some reason, as soon as you knew the truth, it was as if you were seeing the world with fresh eyes. Everything your father had ever told you, especially about your mother, was a lie. It forced you to call into question everything you knew about the world around you.

There was just no way around it.

Perhaps what you did next was foolish, some kind of pathetic rebellion against the only family you had left. Though, at the moment, you didn’t care about that.

All you cared about was getting back at the man you thought you loved for what he’d done. From this second on, Wilson Fisk might as well have been a complete stranger.

He certainly wasn’t the man who raised you, and he never would be again.

He was a murderer, and naturally, that led to the only man in Hell’s Kitchen who could help you figure out what your next step would be. They called him the Devil, but the way you were feeling, you may have made a deal with the actual devil.

Your mother was murdered, taken from you for no reason other than your father’s greed and selfish rage. That wasn’t enough for you, it was never going to be enough.

He could die for all you cared, it didn’t matter.

You had been loyal to your father, your only family, for far too long but without that bond, you didn’t have any reason to care what happened to him. Without that, he was just another criminal who needed to be brought down.

...And you knew just the man for the job.

The first time you saw him in person was at Vanessa’s art house, carrying a white cane that you were sure served him no purpose.

You had only ever seen pictures before, of Matt Murdock, but you’d been watching countless hours of footage of that man in the mask, of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and you could have spotted him anywhere.

It was a shot in the dark, something you could have been wrong about, but you didn’t think so. You didn’t have much of a choice, in the state you were in, and you were desperate.

You needed to see someone, anyone, that wasn’t directly in the pocket of your father and his men. As best you could tell, this masked man was one of the only people in the world who wasn’t.

This was all you could do.

Casually, you made your way over to him, a soft smile on your face. You knew that he couldn't’ see you but this wasn’t about making a good impression on him. This was about making everyone else believe that you were what they thought. As long as you were daddy’s little girl, the apple of his eye, there would be no reason for your father to question what you were doing. For right now, that was the best you could do.

“Looking for someone?” you asked, a soft smile on his face. You weren’t entirely sure what you wanted to say, how to proceed, but you knew that you had to try.

After all, he was your only hope. It wasn’t like there were a million other people waiting around to help you find justice for your mother.  

“Oh hello, I’m Matt Murdock” he smiled, doing his best to come off as unassuming and nonthreatening. You were hanging on his every word, waiting for a chance to say what you wanted to say, but you didn’t have to.

Frankly, he knew who you were, and assumed that you had nothing of value to say to him. Though, he was only partially right.

When you opened your mouth to speak again, you said something about your favorite painting on the far side of the gallery but what he was focused more on was the piece of paper you slipped into his hand.

You gave no indication of what you wanted on your face, but your heart was hammering against your ribcage, indicating that whatever it was made you pretty nervous.

Whatever it was, it was dangerous.

“My father is here, Mr.Murdock. If you’ll excuse me” you allowed, moving slowly away from the man over to where your father and his men had just started toward the doors.

You knew that your plan was foolproof, at least for now, but that did little to ease your paranoia. Everything had to go perfectly, or you weren’t sure what would happen.

Nothing guaranteed your safety, especially not now that you knew just how far your father was willing to go to get what he wanted.

You had to be careful, more careful now than ever before.

“Of course” he hummed, sticking the tiny slip of paper in his pant pocket, hiding it away from any prying eyes. Whatever it was you needed, it would be a lie to say that he wasn’t a tad bit curious.

Having you as a contact would certainly put him a bit closer to Fisk than anything else would. If nothing else, it would be an interesting development in this whole thing.

It wasn’t like you could lie to him, after all.

~

The slip of paper you’d handed Matt was embossed with braille, something that shouldn’t have impressed him as much as he did. You had the resources to figure out something like that, and you certainly were smart enough.

More than anything though, you decided that it would be the most private option you’d have for a private conversation with Matt. Most people wouldn’t be able to understand the meaning of each tiny, punched dot.

It only enforced the idea that only the two of you could understand what it meant. He had to admit, it was a bit eccentric, but much better than if you just handed him a written note.

That would do very little for either of you.

Even more interesting than that, however, was the context of your note. What you wanted from him wasn’t even outlined, nor was any sort of contact information.

All that was there was a single thing, in the center of the sheet, a time.

It hardly meant anything to him in the moment, standing there on the corner of the street, feeling over the raised ridges of each number. It wasn’t possible he’d read it wrong, or that he’d misunderstood.

All you’d included was a time, ten o’clock, to be exact.

It didn’t make any sense, and it wouldn’t until, of course, ten o’clock that evening, when you knocked on the front door of his apartment. It was out of the blue, and more or less a total intrusion, but you didn’t care.

You didn’t have the luxury of caring.

In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have had to partake in something so strange, and so late in the evening, but this was the best you could do. With what he recently happened to Vanessa, and all the enemies your father had, he didn’t let you out of his sight.

You’d had to sneak out away from his men as it was, and you had no idea how long you’d be able to be out before they tracked you down and dragged you back home again.

For such a nice place, the palace your father had built was beginning to feel like a prison.

“Good afternoon, Mr.Murdock. I apologize for coming on such short notice” you tried, doing your best to keep your wits about you, in such a strange time.

You liked to think that you were the smartest person in every room, like you were three steps ahead of everyone, but that wasn’t necessarily the case in a place like this.

Matt Murdock could easily get the best of you if he tried.

“What do you want? It’s a little unusual isn’t it? You coming here, alone” he clarified, noting how in the past, you were always accompanied by at least one armed man.

It didn’t seem right to have you here, all alone, without any explanation of why you were here.

“I didn’t have a choice, did I? My father’s men would have your head on a stick if they knew I was here” you sighed, only moving again when Matt stepped back, a clear sign that he wanted you to come in.

You had a point, as strange as it was.

If anyone saw you here, there was no telling what kind of trouble it would cause. It was bad enough that men were trying to kill him constantly when he left his home, but if they knew who he was, it would be so much worse.

...And the last thing you wanted was to ruin his life. After all, you needed his help.

“I’ll make this quick Mr.Murdock, I came to propose something to you” you started, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible. He could either help you or not, and it wouldn’t take long for him to decide.

Every minute you were here, you put both of your lives in danger, more than they already were.

“It has recently come to my attention that my father butchered my mother, something I cannot let stand. I would like to help you, in your plan to bring him down”

It was a pretty good sell, as far as you were concerned. No one in their right mind would turn it down, and unfortunately, Matt agreed.

While being allies wasn’t something he was excited about, or looking forward to, in any way, it did make sense. You would have an insight into what your father was doing that he couldn’t hope to have without cracking some skulls.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the best option he had at the moment, and there was no way he’d turn it down. Clearly, you must have been sort of desperate to come to him.

It didn’t hurt that your heartbeat had maintained its steady rhythm the entire time you’d been talking, something he took to mean you weren’t intending to lie.

Whatever your father had done, it seemed obvious that there was no going back from it.

[heresathreebee]

Wearing THAT

[Dewey Finn X Female Reader]

Summary: Reader teases Dewey in a Poison Ivy costume. You have a really hard time saying exactly what you want... Masterlist Next

Word count: 3.1k words (no beta) 

Warning(s): 17+ | teasing, lots of teasing and boners, lap sitting, near nudity, touching

AN: only Thots here, thots about Dewey Finn also is Ned British? He's British in my head

This was some sort of test. It had to be. God was testing him through you and you were not playing fair. It’s a costume party not a competition, you pompous little sycophant. And yet he can’t help but tug at the collar of his shirt. It’s not even anywhere near his throat but why else would he feel so constricted? It’s certainly not because of you…

You walked into his shared apartment wearing that and you had no idea the effect it had on him. 

Dewey watches you sling an arm around Ned and kiss Patty’s cheek in greeting. “Hi guys! Thanks for inviting me, I’ve been dying to put this on.” 

“Oh you look lovely,” Patty coos. She plucks at one of the plastic leaves on your corset. “Did you make this?! It’s so intricate.” 

You bark out a laugh. “Oh hell no! I have this cousin, right? And him and his fiancé own this shop where they make costumes for movies and theatre and if you pay ‘em right, ‘personal use.’ And they don’t ask questions what ain’t their business either.” 

“Well, I’m sold.” Ned raises his beer for a toast and Patty clinks it with her bottle of mysterious green juice. “Prost! What’s the name of the shop? Wanna see if they’re online– you know, for... support.” 

“Ned,” Patty swatted his empty hand (no need to be shy, we already know they’re freaky). 

You pat your friends on their backs and take a step towards the kitchen. “Gonna get myself a beer.” 

“Oh honey you don’t have to do that. Dewey!” The man in question nearly covered himself in his own drink when he heard his name. “Be a good host and get this lady her beer!” 

“Yes captain,” Dewey salutes and Patty can do nothing but glare in her Star Trek yellow shirt costume. Original series, of course, nothing but the best for Patricia Di Marco. 

Dewey takes a hold of the moment he has his back to you to take deep, calming breaths. He will not let this be the end of him. Your friendship means so much more to him than that and a little fancy green corset was not going to make him fuck things up with you. 

He’s ready for you when he hands you your beer. Your one arm hug is appreciated because he’s sporting a bit of wood and he’d hate to find out your corset isn’t thick enough to hide it– or god forbid you feel him on your thigh. And god, your thighs… those sheer green nylon tights were doing unspeakable things to him. Maybe if he kept you close and kept your legs out of his peripherals he could make it through the night without embarrassing himself. 

Or maybe not. 

“Are yoooouuu a college student?,” you ask and point at his inconspicuous clothes. 

“Actually– ” he opens the buttons of his shirt to reveal another shirt with a superman logo on it and buttons it back up clumsily as you laugh. “Ssshhh! Don’t tell anybody. Protect my secret.” 

“Of course,” you giggle. God you feel good hanging off him– usually he loves how physical you are but he has to figure out a way to keep his distance without offending you and quickly. “You like mine?” 

The way you pick up a thick swirling red lock and direct his attention to the very thing he’s trying not to look at is killing him. Of course you look even better up close. The leaves of your corset give the thing depth and texture, your gloves are fingerless and go over your elbows, and your heels are high, like make- him- feel- his- below- average- height high. 

“I like these.” Dewey plucks at the ring of leaves at the top of your gloves. It’s a way to keep his mind off your everything else. “Did you dye your hair?” 

“It’s a wig.” You tug on the top and then the bottom, wincing a little. “Sew in, so don’t go snatch it.” 

“I would never!” 

“Poison Ivy, eh? Think that’s one of Dewey’s favorites,” Ned blabs. 

Dewey sends him a death glare so powerful Ned chokes on his beer but you’re looking at your Spock-dressed friend so you can’t see it. 

“Oh, really?” You return your gaze to Dewey and say, “well you must be loving this, then.” 

Dewey swallows. No words come to him and there is nothing to stop the awkward silence that follows. You appear unbothered by it, maintaining eye contact as you smile almost knowingly… 

“We should play twister,” he says with the most unsure voice ever. 

“We don’t even have twister,” Patty mumbled. “Come on, there are like twenty other games setup, let’s play!” 

~

Dewey gives it a minute and when he’s free from you, he catches Ned by his pointy green ear and drags him into the hall. “Hey? What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Whah– what are you talking about?” Ned slaps at the hand fisted in his shirt but Dewey doesn’t budge. 

“You can’t just go telling people I’m into them, dude! Do you know how close you came to giving me away?!”

Ned scoffed. “Her? I hardly think she’s ignorant to your feelings, you’re not like that Steven from Austin fellow.” 

“– Are you talking about stone cold Steve Austin?"Dewey buries his face in his hands- "It’s his last name, not his birthplace–” 

“And besides…” Ned peeks around the corner to see you in the middle of some sort of posing game. Everybody's trying to take the form of some sort of vehicle, and you've got Chloe in a headlock and Vance's leg in the other hand. Ned never got to finish his thought because someone dropped a huge bowl of popcorn and that too became a game of ‘how many can you eat off the floor before Patty cleans it up.’ Ned’s got to help and he’s got to help now. 

Dewey finds himself on the couch with his fifth beer of the evening. Vance, Jeremiah, and Chloe are talking baseball stats when suddenly Dewey’s vision is filled with green and red just before you sit down. Right between his legs. He unconsciously scoots up to make room for you and before he catches on to your game, you nestle into his space by the arm of the couch and sling your legs across his like you belong there. 

Ok, something is definitely up with you. 

Would he describe you as cuddly? A little. Perhaps a more appropriate word would be… hands on. Long before he started wanting more than friendship with you, you two were always just touching. Your presence and your love language was physical. Dewey never felt like you were invading his personal space or overstepping his boundaries because he simply had none with you and the feeling was mutual. But this was something else. Something that wasn’t there before. 

Was it him? Was he fucking up his perfectly in sync companionship with you because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or (his heart for that matter)? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to drag you closer or push you flat on your ass right now. 

You were listening to Chloe chew Vance out for hating Gritty the mascot when you felt Dewey plant a hand on your forehead. “Hey, are you feeling ok?” 

You gently shake him off and raise a single eyebrow. He seems serious, his voice gone all soft and making you feel gooey inside. 

“You just seem… I dunno,” he fumbles, “do you want me to take you home after this?”

Hellooooo opening! “Actually, can I stay here tonight?” 

“Yeah, of course.” Fuck, who said that? Dewey? Ah, shit… 

 “Thanks,” oh oh you should not be rubbing his thigh right now… “I think I’ll go change here in a minute.”

Oh please do, please please puh-leeaaase–  

~

After a brilliant movie drinking game (which Dewey tapped out of), the crowd began to disband. 24 became 20, then 18, then 12. You went out to your car to grab your overnight stuff and Dewey was hoping for a brief reprieve from the assault of your visage. He just needed a few more people to leave so he can sequester himself and rub one out– you know, get his head straight. Ever since you left his lap he’s been rock hard, there’s not enough blood flowing to his brain. The guest count is down to 3– 2 with you in your car, and he can’t wait anymore. 

Dewey slipped into the only bathroom in the house and prayed to god nobody noticed him. He barely got his hand wrapped around his shaft when Patty’s fist banged on the door demanding he help clean up. Sulking and agitated, Dewey managed to calm down while cleaning up red solo cups, glass beer bottles, cans, and small pocket sized objects that would need to be returned to the guests after their hangovers subsided (no keys, thankfully, everybody’s got a DD). His “predicament’ is nearly forgotten when you finally return with a bundle of clothes, disappear into the bathroom and reemerge in loose sleepwear with your makeup wiped clean and uh… braless. 

You catch him looking. Dewey– surprisingly sober after he gave up drinking half way through his sixth beer– does nothing short of raise a slightly irritated eyebrow at you. “Cold in here, huh?” 

“Shut up. You know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in a bra?” 

You help him collect a couple bottles that rolled under the couch and walk with him down to Ned’s car. Patty would sort the recyclables from the trash in the morning (late morning, she did a couple rounds of tequila shots thanks to you). It’s almost like the party never happened; you’re shooting the shit again and everything is right in the world. He’s got no ulterior reaction to putting a hand on your hip– that’s just a normal thing in your perfectly platonic relationship. God, he really must have been imagining things, he was beginning to think you were actually trying to flirt with him! 

Ned’s bent over the kitchen sink with Patty and holding her hair back. He looks up as you enter the apartment and shakes his head. You and Dewey make yourself scarce by slipping into the shared bathroom to hide. You try to giggle quietly as Dewey surveys the skincare products you covered the counter with. He points to your head and asks, “you wearing that to bed?” 

“It’s sewed in, I’m not taking this off for three weeks at least,” you answer. “Get my money’s worth. I can work it like my natural hair.” 

Dewey nods. You rub your arm nervously and look for something to say, something to circle back to the whole point of showing up looking like a sexed up goddess. What do guys like? Girls wearing their clothes, right? But you need to phrase it perfectly… 

“Dewey?” He looks up from the scrubby lip balm in his hands. “I’m not quite ready to go to sleep yet and it… it is a little chilly in your place. Can I wear your jacket?” 

Just to bring your meaning home, you tug on his sleeve– the very jacket on his back. You don’t want just any jacket, you want that one, already warm and scented by him. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance past you like he was reluctant to comply. And yet… 

“Yeah, here.” He slips out of it with ease and drapes it over your shoulders. You miss the sigh of relief he makes when you pull the zipper closed and obscure your pebbling nipples. “Think I’m gonna go help Ned put Patty to bed.” 

Ned was a scrawny little thing and couldn’t carry her by himself, and she needed to be carried. Competitive by nature, it’s easy to talk her into virtually anything, especially if it feels like girl time. You need Patty in a deep sleep for your plans tonight (sorry not sorry). Dewey’s very sexy as he bears most of Patty’s weight. She’s clinging to Ned, arms around his neck and babbling incoherently while Dewey’s got an arm around her waist and legs, keeping Ned on his feet. You skirt ahead of them and open the bedroom door, help pull her shoes off, her captain insignia, her earrings, you even wipe the spit from her lips and the eyeliner smeared on her cheek. 

“You’re my favorite ever,” she whimpers, “I love you so much, you’re like my best friend ever…” 

You shush her gently. “You say that about everybody when you’re drunk, baby. I promise I’ll make you a fat breakfast in the morning but you gotta go to sleep now, OK?” 

Patty nods. She snuggles into her pillow just as Ned is taking up position as the big spoon when she looks back up at you and asks, “can we go for a run together?” 

You blink evenly. “Yes.” You already regret it as she smiles big and wide. It would be just your luck this is the one thing she doesn't forget in the morning.

Finally it's just you and Dewey in the hallway. It feels like you're standing between two choices: his open bedroom door and the living room. But it seems like only you can feel the weight of it. 

"Are you sure you want to stay over?," Dewey asks, "you can use my bed." 

You perk up out of your heavy mood. "Really?" 

"Yeah, I'll take the couch tonight." 

He can't possibly miss the way you instantly deflate but he's still not putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Dewey. I'm not going to kick you out of your own room." 

He shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll grab a few blankets." 

There's a storage closet in the main building with this one extra soft blanket that Dewey knows you'll love. You on the other hand have got no more patience left. Once the man leaves, you stomp your foot and decide to try one final act.

Dewey returns to the apartment to find an empty, quiet living room. Ned and Patty are in bed, but where are you? He wanders past the bathroom door because it's dark inside and checks his room. There you are reclining on his bed. He could have sworn you were wearing pants before but your legs are bare and his jacket hugs the tops of your thighs. He also could have sworn you were wearing a shirt. He finds both items folded neatly beside you with your underwear right on top. 

Oh…

This cannot be happening right now. He just survived tonight by the skin of his teeth and now you were doing this to him. He’s going to pull his hair out, going to scream, it’s so frustrating because he can’t just ask you what you want– you’ll turn the question back on him and he’ll fuck it up. He lets the blanket fall from his grip and with a heavy sigh he whispers in a weak voice, “straight answers only. What are you doing to me? Why you doin’ this?” 

You cock your head and answer leisurely, your eye drifting across the items in his room. “You know that’s not how I roll, but if you want me to address the elephant in the room: I'm naked in your bed right now." 

Against his better judgement, Dewey moves closer. "I can see that." 

One step closer and your eyes find him again. Like an invitation you lean back more, even uncross your legs but go no further. Dewey swallows his tongue and waits for you to elaborate and every second is agonizingly slow. 

"You think you can just walk around here with your pretty face and cocky little attitude like it’s nothing,” you said accusingly. 

Dewey glared at you. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” 

“Well we're in agreement then,” you’re almost sneering at him, but he knows it’s because you’re really frustrated with yourself, “I look and I touch and I feel but I don’t know, you know?” 

“Not a clue,” he sighs and sits himself beside you. He’s done trying to keep his distance. “Let’s go back to you being naked in my bed.” 

“Do you like it?” 

“Do I like it?,” he repeats incredulously. Dewey leans back on his elbow to look you over from top to bottom. You look damn good in nothing but his jacket. You’ve got the long ends of your red hair in braids that sweep down to your navel. The zipper rests tantalizingly right below your ribcage. Dewey dares to reach out a mollifying hand and give a tiny stroke to that silver keeper. He cannot bring himself to speak above a whisper as he nods, “yeah, I… I like it.” 

The tension leaves your shoulders and you wear a small grin. “It’s not too late to take it back. Say no, and I’ll put my clothes back on and sleep on the couch like none of this ever happened. This,” you point between the two of you, “doesn’t change unless we want it to.” 

… this was real. In answer, Dewey’s chin wrinkles and he watches his finger travel upwards, drawing a light line up the expanse of your chest between your breasts to feel you shiver at his touch. Thing is he doesn’t want to say no, but wouldn’t it be better? Safer? He asks the question he’s been dying to know all night. “What do you want from me?” 

“Whatever I can get,” you answer truthfully. “Whatever you’ll allow. Don’t trouble yourself with labels and things ‘cause what we have has always been so much more than that.” 

Dewey feels a weight lift off of his chest. His hand works around your waist and drags you closer, halfway under him and he rests his perspiring forehead on your breastbone. Whatever happens next happens, for better or for worse. 

You’re not troubled when Dewey moves the jacket to expose one of your breasts, however you are taken aback when he bites you. You barely manage to stifle your yelp when you feel him growl against your flesh and the sound vibrates straight to your core. Dewey drags his head up and stares you dead in the eye as he kneads your savaged breast. 

“All night,” he growls, “all fucking night for this? We could have done this ages ago. The salon, the drive in, Chloe’s cat’s birthday– grocery shopping last week. But no, instead you pick a party full of people and you’ve had me riled up for hours.” 

Dewey pinches your hardened peak and you keen. “‘m sorry…” 

“No you’re not, but don’t worry: you will be.”

AN: Check Out Part 2 @hoodoo12 @go-commander-kim @escape-your-grape @softbeej @imma-fucking-nerd @werwulfy

[mysoftboybensolo]

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 13: The Holidays

A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, Victorian Christmas, mentions of past abuse, but much fluff! I had done my research on what Christmas was like back then, as well as the Hanukah dates and it seems 1897 was a big year; “Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus” was published in September of 1897, electric Christmas lights were growing in popularity and the unification of the boroughs in New York was official on New Years. And there is your history lesson of the day.

The air grew colder as Laszlo and Evelina’s relationship grew warmer. Evelina was spending more time with the team, just as Laszlo was becoming more and more acquainted with Evelina’s opera friends. Compared, they were a more rambunctious group, and she knew that Laszlo had his limits, but admired him for trying so hard. Maria often helped Laszlo along when Evelina was not by his side and he felt immensely grateful to her for guiding him through the corral. At first, her opera friends hadn’t been sure of Laszlo, unsure of this man who makes a living in psychoanalyzing people, who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere, but they always caught the spark of joy in his eyes when Evelina came beside him, the way he tried so hard for her. Even if he couldn’t keep up with them, they still saw the utter devotion between the pair and that was enough for them to approve the relationship.

It was a time for the singers to rest themselves for The Nutcracker to be performed, and a real treat for them all. It had done so well last Christmas that the opera house had decided to do it again, and who knows, perhaps it will become a Christmas tradition.

As November closed in, Evelina had been helping Sara scout out locations for her new agency, hoping that she’ll find it before the weather turned too cold to be out scouting. As they looked around a space, Evelina asked Sara a few questions. “What will you require of your workers to do?”

“Just as any other detective agency will have, secretaries, detectives. Roosevelt has agreed to let the officers help us whenever we need it, which must mean he bears no ill will towards my leaving. Hmm, no, too small. I need at least four rooms; this will not do.” They stepped out into the cool air, leaving them both to shiver. “Winter certainly is coming, there is no doubt.”

“Yes, that shall mean Christmas!” Evelina replied excitedly. “It’s my favorite time of year. Everything looks so magical with the snow and the good cheer, and of course the music.”

“Well, then you might convince Laszlo to have a party this year. He doesn’t celebrate it, at least, from what I have known of him. I wonder if it comes from an unhappy memory,” Sara mused.

“Then I shall make it my duty to give him a Christmas full of happiness. The opera will be performing The Nutcracker, perhaps I will invite him to a performance then have a party. It’ll only be a small affair, you, John, and the Isaacson Brothers.”

Sara looked at her strangely then asked, “You are aware that they are Jewish, don’t you?”

“I am more than aware, in fact, I know that it starts on the nineteenth of December and ends on the twenty-seventh. And it doesn’t have to necessarily be a Christmas party, but a holiday party. A celebration of simply being together and friends. Surely, Laszlo couldn’t object to that.”

Wrapping her arm around Evelina’s, Sara couldn’t help but to smile. “Not when you put it that way, he wouldn’t.”

Laszlo visited just shortly after the ladies returned home, feeling too frozen to go any further. “And how has the property hunting been going for you?”

Sara groaned, “Don’t mention it. It feels as if I am never going to find the perfect place. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to get myself a good stiff drink,” she huffed as she went off to the kitchen, leaving Evelina and Laszlo alone in the den.”

Now was the perfect time for her to ask the question. “Laszlo, Christmas is coming soon, and I was wondering what it is that you do for the holidays?”

“Well, Christmas Eve, I spend it with the children who are left behind at the institute, watch them open their gifts in the morning then return home for a quiet day in.”

“Oh, Laszlo,” she said, “I love that you take care of your children, but what about yourself? Doesn’t it get to be a bit lonely?”

He pursed his lips in thought then said, “Well, yes, I suppose, but it was better than what I used to have when I was younger. Those were the better days. We hosted a fine Christmas party, my father was at his best and my mother wore her finest, and the house looked like a picture book. But” he said, with matter-of-fact tone, “When the party was over, it wasn’t so picturesque.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she softly affirmed.

“No, I want to, and we promised, no secrets.” It was true, after the absolute confusion that came from not sharing their feelings and the disaster that followed, they had agreed that nothing would be held back. “Santa was not something told in my household, but rather the fear of God. He’d make me read the bible which involved the birth of Christ, but any little flaw, hesitation or stutter and he’d beat me while calling me a blasphemer for ruining the scripture.”

She wanted to ask how that was better than the usual days, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. “My mum died just a week before Christmas, and to celebrate it without her was awful. Winston was not manageable during those times,” she paused after the mention of her brother, and Laszlo saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “When he was locked up, that first Christmas, my father broke down, he felt he had broken his promise to my mother in keeping the family together. Even though I told him that he was not to blame for Winston’s actions, every year after, I could see the echo of pain in his eyes. This will be my first Christmas without any of them.”

Laszlo lifted his hand, unsure if he ought to reach out and comfort her, and knowing that she’d not only appreciate it, but that he’d have to get used being open with another, he placed a hand on top of hers, which rested on her lap. It was the right move to do, as it had made her smile and lean in to rest her head against his shoulder. Laszlo felt a small surge of pride in himself, he was doing better in showing intimacy and he liked it.

Having a party to plan helped to fill Evelina’s free time from the opera, but most importantly, it allowed her the chance to make a surprise for Laszlo. Thanks to her covert cleverness, she found out which children will be spending Christmas at the institute and with the permission of the staff, she managed to pull them together to work on a surprise for him. They nearly got caught once, Laszlo came back from a meeting a bit sooner than Evelina expected, but she managed to play it off well, saying that she had been bored and wanted to play the piano for the children.

Stevie proved to be rather helpful in preparing Christmas at Laszlo’s home and was more than happy to be commissioned by Evelina to help with the planning. He scoured out the best decorations and the best tree to have standing in Laszlo’s den, and when he was finished with it, even he could admit he did a rather fine job. There was one thing that Laszlo had a hand in the decorations, and it was the purchase of these new electric string lights, meant to replace candles, and it was a smart choice, and in Evelina’s words, magical. As Stevie was busy with the decorations, Evelina was off to work with the invites and the Isaacson Brothers were surprised to say the least but were still very pleased to be invited to such a party, knowing how much it meant to her. Sara had been the first unofficial guest invited and John most certainly was not one to pass up a party.

Christmas Eve arrived and Evelina dressed herself in her green and red velvet walking gown, truly getting into the spirit and went to the institute to see Laszlo. Many of the parents came to take their children home for the holidays and as much as it was a wonderful sight to see parents not forsake their little ones, it was doubly heartbreaking to see those few whose parents never came. It was Laszlo and Evelina’s special mission to make sure that they still received the experience that they would have had if they were home, even carrying on the duty of decorating the tree and great hall for the children to enjoy. Most of the staff could go home to spend it with their family, but there were a few who did not have a family of their own who stayed and happily joined in the festivities with the children.

Daylight had gone when was a surprise waiting at the front door, and who would have guessed that Santa would come and see the children of the Kreizler Institute? Watching John all dressed up as Santa was a delight, especially when the younger children climbed on his lap and gave “Santa” a hug and wished him a Merry Christmas. It didn’t take much convincing, for John thought it a wonderful idea and he could not say no to Evelina’s sweet intentions, even if it made him look a bit silly. Sara was the unofficial Mrs. Claus, dressed in her lovely green evening gown and many of the children loved going up to her and asking questions of the North Pole, truly convinced that she was indeed the wife of Santa. She watched John take in the children’s excitement with great stride and enjoyment and thought it the finest thing she had ever seen, and her heart swelled at the thought of him doing this for the children.

When John and Sara left, it was time to show off Evelina’s surprise. Gathering the children up, she sat at the piano and began to play. Laszlo watched with wonder and love as Evelina led the children in a most heavenly rendition of Ding Dong Merrily On High, the children looked so happy to be a part of something. He wasn’t even bothered by the religious overtones of the song; he just enjoyed the sweet voices that sang in perfect harmony and was touched to see that his love put so much effort into surprising him.

Soon, it got to be bedtime and the children were escorted back their rooms, eagerly awaiting Santa’s arrival and the staff to their rooms. Usually, Laszlo was the only one to take up the duty of stuffing the stockings and providing the children with gift, making sure each one got an equal amount from Santa. Evelina stayed with him and happily helped to stuff the stockings, despite her own sleepiness. It was an endearing sight, the pair of them on the floor, helping to stuff stockings and wrap presents.

“How long have you done this?”

“Ever since the institute was opened. It was quite sad to see those children left behind to have nothing, so I made sure to carry on the tradition of Santa. You may think that I do not agree with the idea of telling fantastical stories to children, but I think it is important in the development of a child. It stimulates their creativity as well as teaches them lessons.”

Evelina smiled and started with, “Don’t laugh, but I still believe in Santa. Oh, I don’t mean that there is an actual person who goes about in a flying sleigh and gives presents to all children around the world, but the idea of him. Do you remember back in September there was that article answering a little girl’s question of if there was a Santa? That article was a wonderful summation of how I feel about Santa. How there is someone who can be full of good cheer and selflessness and the possibility that we could be just like him. Like this, right now. The fact that you go out of your way to make sure these children have a merry Christmas, to never make them feel left out, it is very Kris Kringle of you. And I am sure you’d look dashing in red.” His deep blush only proved her right.

It was nearing midnight when they had finished and left the institute and despite the chill, they walked through the snowy streets, enjoying the calm and winter beauty. “I am sorry if this wasn’t what you had imagined you’d spend your Christmas Eve.”

“Indeed, it was far better than I could hope. To help give children a good time, to create magic and now walking home with you, it is wonderful.” The church bells tolled, and they stopped to listen to the lovely knells as it chimed Christmas day. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”

Laszlo smiled, knowing that she gave him at last an endearment. “Frohe Weihnachten, meine liebe.”

Laszlo came to pick up Evelina early on Christmas day so she could be at the institute before the children woke and watch with Laszlo as they opened their gifts from Santa as well as from Laszlo himself. She loved the glimmer in his eyes when looking at the children enjoying themselves, forgetting their woes and problems, glad to see that they would have a normal childhood that he never had. Once he was sure that the children were taken care of, the pair went off to enjoy Christmas themselves. It had been purely coincidental, but Laszlo wore his dashing green vest and tie while Evelina wore her lovely red satin dress, looking as if they had coordinated with the holiday and each other, anyone who didn’t know them would have been certain they were husband and wife.

The party was beginning at noon, giving time to everyone that was coming to enjoy their morning and get ready to spend it together. Sara had been the first to arrive, no surprise, the Isaacson Brothers came, Marcus brought along his dear Esther and her daughter, and then John. Laszlo had almost thought that all the guest had arrived, when Stevie entered and said, “We’ve got two more guests!”

Laszlo looked perplexed, for who else could come, and Evelina watched in amusement as his mouth fell agape as Cyrus walked in with his niece, Joanna, looking rather fine in their Sunday best. Laszlo jumped up from his seat and went to his old employee and friend. “Cyrus! How are you? I didn’t know you were coming.”

“No, but Miss Lind did. Stevie brought Miss Lind to my work and she had personally invited me to the party, as well as Joanna. It was wonderful of her to come to me personally.”

Evelina stood and warmly greeted Cyrus and Joanna. “I am so glad you came. Laszlo told me so much of you and I just had to properly get to know his dear friend.”

“And I am honored to know the woman who could convince him to throw such a party,” Cyrus laughed heartily.

Evelina had been a wonderful hostess, making sure everyone had been attended to, even making sure Stevie felt welcomed in the celebrations and had helped Lucius feel a bit more at ease with the help of Joanna, of which the pair seemed quite intrigued by each other. Laszlo watched in wonder of how she could manage to move around with grace, kindness and energy when he still had difficulty to be as open to those of whom he feels are his friends. He admired her and was honored to be the man of whom she loved above others.

The afternoon was spent playing games, Blind Man’s Bluff, Yes and No, and Charades. Laszlo had sat out of Blind Man’s Bluff, but allowed himself to be dragged into Charades and Yes and No. He was afraid of appearing to look ridiculous, but Evelina argued that everyone was doing the same, so they all looked the same amount of ridiculousness. The luncheon was informal, people made their own plates and sat around Laszlo’s den, like they all were old friends, and it was a kind of homey feeling that Laszlo had never felt before, it was warm, safe, good.

It would not be a good party without a mistletoe, at least according to John, who hung it over his friend’s head and teased that someone ought to kiss him or else he will. Evelina more than happily rose to the challenge, making it the second kiss that the pair had shared. She challenged John to hang it over his head and get a kiss, or else he’ll have to kiss the lizard at the institute, and just as she hoped, Sara decided to help him out by placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, but he turned on accident and the pair had kissed on the lips. The blush on their faces told so much and Evelina buried her face in Laszlo’s chest to try and stop her smile from being noticed, but she spotted something beyond him. Moving towards it, she couldn’t help but to admire the beautiful piano. Laszlo came up beside her and said, “You may play on it whenever you wish. It’ll be nice to see that old thing getting some use. I haven’t played in so long.”

“You played?” She had never known that Laszlo used to play, at least before the incident.

“Yes. I was quite good.”

“Better than good,” Sara interjected, coming in the conversation, hoping to escape her situation. “His name was in all the papers; he could have been a great pianist.”

“Why don’t we do gifts?” Evelina suggested, hoping to prevent Laszlo from falling into his darker thoughts, and she excitedly handed out her gifts. They weren’t expensive gifts, but they were heartfelt and personal to each, and that meant more than anything in the world, even Stevie, who hadn’t expected to get a gift and didn’t usually like to be sentimental, but even he couldn’t refuse the copy of An Anarchic Adventure by Jules Verne, his favorite author. Laszlo had received a copy of The Psychology of Emotions by Théodule-Armand Ribot, of whom Laszlo had been fascinated with.

Laszlo made himself go last, giving everyone incredible gifts; Stevie getting his very first shaving kit as he was now a young man, Esther and her daughter fine new dresses, to name a few, and lastly went to Evelina, giving her a box. When she opened it, it was a beautiful toiletry box, made of a dark wood and lined with pink velvet. Opening one of the drawers, she noticed two large and full bottles of her perfume, ‘Fantasia de Fleurs’. “Oh, Laszlo! This is too much! And on top of that, two bottles of my perfume?”

“It is not too much,” he countered, “And besides, it is for selfish reasons too, for I love your scent, perhaps a bit too much,” he admits with a blush across his cheeks. “No one else should buy this for you but myself.”

It was true; when she did first receive this, it was meant to be a bribe gift from one of the patrons at the opera, but she loved the scent too much to toss it away. To have Laszlo buy it for her not only was sweet, but intimate, and she liked that he felt way, wanting no other to buy her perfumes. Sara had been the one to inform which perfume it was and told Laszlo that she had mentioned about getting a box of her own, and he made sure to get the finest box with the two largest bottles so she wouldn’t have to.

The Isaacson Brothers had left with their guests and just before everyone was to go off on their own, Evelina made sure to have a few carols played and sung. John and Sara had quite nice voices which blended very well together, Cyrus deep and warm, and Joanna and Stevie wholeheartedly sang. Laszlo’s voice was not deep or powerful, but it was soft and comforting, and it sounded wonderful to hear him sing Silent Night in German, a request that Evelina had asked, and he did only for her. When he sang, all stopped and listened, and all Laszlo could see or know was Evelina, playing the piano, with a grace and power that reminded him of his youth. Instead of painful memories, it made him smile and happy.

Cyrus and his niece left to have dinner with their family, John to his grandmother’s, leaving Sara and Stevie to join Evelina and Laszlo to the opera for The Nutcracker. This had been Stevie’s first time to the opera and the wonder in his eyes was so enduring and how he watched as the story enfolded before his eyes. In the dark of the auditorium, Evelina had reached her hand over to Laszlo’s, and held it. He looked over at her and wordlessly, he thanked her for a wonderful Christmas.

The good cheer from Christmas continued to carry on for the next few days as New Year’s was approaching and for good reason. The New York government had made the decision to unite the five boroughs of the city to create what would be nicknamed “Greater New York” and it was a wonderful reason to celebrate.

It was a momentous occasion, one that Evelina wished to see and thanks to Laszlo’s influence, they managed to watch it all happen close by and safe away from the mad crowd and the pouring rain. As the New Year rang, everyone watched in wonder as fireworks blasted in the sky, cannons fired, steamboats blowing their horns and brass bands played their hearts out, for when the new year rang, the new flag had unfurled over city proclaiming it’s celebration, the birth of the City of New York.

“Oh, darling,” Evelina gasped, “Just think, we are lucky to have seen this happen. To see a city come together as one, it’s beautiful!”

Laszlo wrapped his arms around Evelina’s waist and placed his head in the crook of her neck as they watched the city celebrate outside, “1898 shall be a happy year. I am sure of it.” She turned her head and shared their third kiss but first kiss of their new year and turned back to watch the merriment.

It then struck him right then and there, something that he thought would never be possible, something he’d never have, and yet it was here in his arms, and he would not let it go so easily. Now, it was just the matter of asking the question.

Tagging: @monsieurbruhl​ @cazzyimagines​, @scuttle-buttle​, @violetmuses​ @flutterskies​ @sokoviandelights​ @rumblelibrary​ @fictionlandslanddreams​ @somethingthatsaysbubbles​ @alindeluce​  and @barnesxnobles

[tiifalockhart]

Freckles

Pairing: Zack x Sephiroth

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is for a dear friend of mine’s birthday <3 Happy birthday Ana, I hope you like your gift!! Inspired by her obsession with Sephiroth’s tiny freckles in AC <3

Masterlist || Ao3

A secret that Sephiroth somehow managed to unintentionally hide was the fact that he had freckles. 

The moment Zack realized it, it was like he fell in love all over again. 

It wasn’t an easy task to get close to Sephiroth, both emotionally and physically. Sometimes, it felt like you were speaking to a brick wall whenever you came into contact with him. He was formal and polite... That was about the best most strangers could describe him as. Sephiroth didn’t really open up to anyone, and anyone who wanted to try had to work very hard for it. There were very few people he naturally bonded with... One of those people being the “puppy” of SOLDIER.

Realistically, Zack was the only one close even to get a good look at Sephiroth’s facial features. The silver haired SOLDIER rarely let someone get close to him, even if they dared to. Most people were simply too intimidated to look him in the eye. 

Zack knew Sephiroth’s face like the back of his hand (mostly from the many hours he’s spent admiring and kissing it). He knew the way his cat-like pupils reacted to the lighting of the room, the way his face would get a pink tint whenever Zack said something mildly inappropriate. He knew the way Sephiroth would apply his mascara to hide his white eyelashes or the slight pout that would form on Sephiroth’s lips whenever Zack would take too long to join him in bed. Zack even knew the curves and strong features of Sephiroth’s face, his fingers trailing along with his cheek and jaw bones seemingly unendingly. The most enchanting part of Sephiroth’s facial features would be his tiny freckles that decorated the top of his cheekbones and nose. 

Sephiroth’s freckles are an easy feature to miss. No one knows where they came from, especially since none of Sephiroth’s supposed fathers or mothers had freckles. Perhaps it was from the sun from his many missions, but the rest of him never seemed to adopt this same tan (imagine the tan lines, though). It was a mystery for sure, but Zack hardly gave a damn about where they came from. 

The puppy’s favorite pass time quickly became kissing or counting Sephiroth’s freckles. Zack would squint and attempt to count them from across the room as if it was some kind of a game. Lazard definitely wasn’t seeing things when he saw Sephiroth’s cheeks turn slightly rosy from Zack’s gaze during a meeting one day. 

Every other day,  Zack would happily hold Sephiroth against his chest and recount his freckles, especially during their slow days. Zack continued to make ridiculous claims that Sephiroth had somehow developed yet another freckle. Most conversations went about the same. 

“Forty-five.... Forty-six.... Forty-seven.... Oh?....” Zack counted off as he examined Sephiroth’s face. The silver haired male was currently napping beneath him, lulled to sleep by Zack’s hand running through his hair. He nearly jumped out of his skin at Zack’s loud and dramatic gasp. “You have another one!! Forty-eight freckles!” He cheered. 

Sephiroth’s frown quickly turned into a pout as he sat up, removing himself from Zack’s lap. “You’ve interrupted my nap... Again.” He muttered, a sigh of defeat leaving his lips. “And I don’t have another freckle.” The SOLDIER added, moving over to the coffee machine and preparing for the evening. 

“You definitely have a new freckle.” Zack insisted, a proud smirk on his lips as he admired his boyfriend from afar. Sephiroth couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. He knew better than to deny Zack, considering that Sephiroth never actually developed more freckles. Zack, frankly, was just terrible at counting them and would recount the same few freckles over and over again. 

...And Sephiroth had a lot more than just forty-eight freckles.

After a quick glance in the reflection of the metal in their microwave, Sephiroth let out a satisfactory hum. “It seems that I do.” He agreed formally, his straight face breaking as soon as Zack’s arms wrapped around him again. 

“Told ya.” Zack purred, that same proud grin decorating his lips. Sephiroth’s cheeks heated up at the touch, causing him to stubbornly look away.

“Don’t stare at me like you did the other day again during our meetings. Lazard asked me about the other day... I had to come up with a weird excuse.” He explained, handing Zack his overly-sweetened coffee before making his own bland and bitter black coffee. 

“Weird excuse?” Zack asked, pulling away and not really bothering to hide the smirk. “What did you manage to come up with? It’s not every day someone sees the hero himself blush.” He teased, replacing the ever-growing smirk with his coffee mug. 

“I... Do not wish to talk about it.” Sephiroth replied, looking away as he sulked. The images of Lazard’s disapproving gaze slowly changing into a knowing smirk will haunt Sephiroth forever. Zack could only let out a hushed chuckle as he shrugged it off. 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, big guy.” He answered, reaching up to ruffle Sephiroth’s hair. The first class SOLDIER glared at Zack, an obvious gleam of playfulness in his eyes. 

Sephiroth ran his fingers through his hair, fixing the mess that Zack had made as he examined the younger. “It seems you wish to run more laps today, Zack.” Sephiroth quipped, causing the younger to raise his brows in surprise. 

“Hey, who told you that you could go all ‘Big Boss-man’ on me?” He complained. Apparently, it was Zack’s turn to pout as Sephiroth moved on from the kitchen, heading towards his bedroom to change. 

“I did. I hope you’ll be dressed before me... The track is looking quite lonely today otherwise.” Sephiroth continued, a smug glint in his eyes as he disappeared into his bedroom. 

Naturally, the two of them ended right back in the same spot later that night. Zack was cradling a sleepy Sephiroth, his fingers threading through his silver hair. Sephiroth wasn't much of a cuddler, especially with people who happen to be younger than him. Zack was very.... Proud, to say the least. It isn't just anyone who can make the top SOLDIER melt under their touch. Not even Genesis or Angeal had the same experience as Zack did. Zack definitely took this as a blessing and an ego booster. 

As much as Sephiroth dreaded it, he would occasionally feel the gentle brush of Zack’s free hand against his cheek as he once again counted the freckles on his face. Eventually, Zack will move on, Sephiroth thought. He will soon.... Right?

Sephiroth ended up being very wrong. How was he supposed to reject those heart-wrenching and cursed puppy eyes? Eventually, the counting exceeded past just counting. It grew from simple admiration to kissing. Sephiroth’s face would always end up with a slight pink tint by the time Zack moved on from decorating each of his freckles with two kisses each. 

This obsession also resulted in... Weird nicknames. Sephiroth, admittedly, wasn’t quite sure how he felt about most of them. They ranged from pretty normal names to something he would name a dog. For example, “Speckles” was certainly somewhere in that grey area. Over time, Sephiroth found himself growing more and more used to these... “Nicknames,” even responding to those that sound absolutely ridiculous.

Any time Sephiroth would come home to Zack, a bright grin was always present on the younger’s face. It made his heart swell... The thought of someone caring about him enough to be excited to see him every waking moment. “Good evening, Zack.” Sephiroth greeted somewhat formally, still adjusting to the whole ‘boyfriend’ concept.

Zack looked up at his lover. “Evening, cupcake with sprinkles.” He chimed, catching Sephiroth off guard. The silver haired male stopped in his tracks, slowly turning towards the other. 

“...What did you just call me?” He questioned, a confused and slightly bewildered look in his eyes. Sephiroth swore he had misheard Zack.

Zack laughed quietly and pushed himself off the couch, giving Sephiroth his greeting kiss. “Cupcake with sprinkles?” He replied, the statement sounding much like a question. “No good?” Zack asked, grinning at the older SOLDIER. 

Sephiroth, attempting to suppress the red color on his face, looked away. “It’s quite... Unique.” He answered, attempting to salvage Zack’s feelings. “However, you have come up with better in the past.” He continued, pulling away and stepping into his bedroom, beginning to change. 

Zack leaned against the door frame and raised a brow, crossing his arms as the smallest smirk formed on his lips. “Oh yeah? Like what?” He hummed, a somewhat teasing tone to his voice. Sephiroth’s mind began to swarm with the many, many terrible names Zack managed to come up with. Don’t get him wrong, he found it quite endearing... But at the same time, it was just downright weird stuff sometimes. 

A stifled cough left Sephiroth’s lips as he searched for an answer, before sighing in defeat. “...I thought freakles was quite unique and amusing.” He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck as he slid past Zack. 

Zack’s eyes lit up with admiration and interest, he obviously wasn’t expecting that answer. “You liked freakles? Out of every other nickname I’ve ever come up with?” He questioned, a hint of surprise in his voice. Sephiroth sighed in defeat as he grabbed some leftover food out of the fridge. 

“It is certainly better than ‘cupcake with sprinkles.’ I am not a cupcake, Zack.” Sephiroth explained, attempting to bite back the smile that was fighting its way to his lips. “Freakles was... Witty. I liked it.” He explained, crossing his arms as he turned towards Zack. 

Zack raised a brow and nodded lightly. “Who knew you liked dad jokes so much?” He retorted playfully, winking at the older. Sephiroth scoff as he watched his food spin in the microwave. 

“I only like them because you never stop telling them.” He pointed out, raising a brow. “You’re worse than Angeal’s old jokebooks.” The first class SOLDIER teased. 

Zack pouted up at his boyfriend, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I think you meant better?” He argued playfully, his voice holding an astronomical amount of sass. Sephiroth merely rolled his eyes and grabbed their food, placing it on two plates for them both. 

Eventually, this obsession Zack had developed moved onto simple admiration. Zack constantly had eyes full of love for Sephiroth. It was absolutely adorable to some (like Angeal), and really gross to others (like Genesis). The puppy would get in the same pose every time, his chin would rest on his right palm, his lips would curl into a pleasant smile and his gaze would hold love in it, as if he were falling in love with Sephiroth all over again. There was a point in time where Zack was no longer afraid of people finding out about their relationship. Hell, what is there to be afraid of? 

Sephiroth could always feel Zack’s gaze on him, but it didn’t bother him. He had grown used to his unreserved displays of love. PDA had never been something that Sephiroth was fond of, but he would let Zack get away with a lot of it. Most of the time, Zack would pepper kisses along his freckles. Other times, Zack would simply hold his hand, looking like he was the proudest SOLDIER out there. Sephiroth... Admired Zack for his explicit nature when it came to love, he personally could never imagine being so open with the public in such a way. In some weird manner, this open display Zack constantly put on was some version of security for Sephiroth. Surely this meant that they were in it for the long run? Sephiroth wasn’t going to complain, he loved Zack and wanted him to know it at all times as well. 

So, from the moment they started being more open about their relationship, there was hardly ever a moment in time where Sephiroth felt lonely and unloved. Zack was always by his side, giving him words of encouragement and kissing each of his freckles. Sephiroth couldn’t ask for anything better at this point. He felt safe knowing that he won’t ever lose Zack.

...And that his crazy nicknames finally stopped.

[behindheremeraldeyes]

title: the next step is love

summary: Modern AU - It’s Sakura’s birthday, and after the party, she’s left to take care of the mess of dirty plates and glasses. Luckily, she’s not alone, but he can’t really stay forever, right?

a/n: Okay, this story was supposed to have come out way earlier, but I changed the plot so many times that I just couldn’t finish it for her birthday... The original idea was so different, and perhaps, I end up writing it another time when the inspiration strikes again (seriously, it was a nice one). Anyway, I hope you can still enjoy this one! As always, my fluff side took over me and I just had to make something simple and domestic for the Queen’s bday! Hope you enjoy it, and please, let me know what you think! (also, this is un-betta’d. I wanted to post this asap because I’m working on a different project, so... bear with me)

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“Thank you for coming! ‘Careful on your way home!”

The sound of the door clicking shut reverberates across her entire apartment, and it only takes one second for that smiley expression to fade from her face. Her right hand is still placed over the door-knob, and for a brief moment, she closes her eyes, letting out a deep sigh in pure contentment. The last guests are finally on their merry way home now, and at last, she can stop worrying about things such as making sure no one’s feeling left out or re-filling toilet paper. Even if they’re all good friends, her perfectionist mind can’t simply allow her to enjoy the night without worrying about those details.

After turning the key, her hand moves to massage the back of her neck, and finally, she sets her toes free from her black heels. A mix of relief and calmness spreads all over her body, as a soft smile takes over her cherry-colored lips. This, perhaps, might be her favorite part of her birthday parties— or any party, for the matter— because, right now, she can finally savor all the things she's prepared for the night. The food, the decoration, the soothing music...

Oh, what a dream, she thinks, at first, before looking around with her lazy eyes and frowning at the scene. If only all of that mess could magically disappear by the time she wakes up tomorrow morning.

A sigh escapes her lungs as she makes her way back to the center of the hurricane that is her living room. Just like last year, she starts wondering why on earth she let Ino convince her to host her own birthday party instead of going out for a couple of drinks like most people do. Though the pinkette really enjoys having her friends over for a couple of hours, she can’t deny that the day after March 28th is probably the most tiring of the year. Sakura knows she's barely gonna get any sleep tonight, and by the time her alarm goes off around 5:30, she will certainly need at least 1 liter of coffee in order to go through her shift without falling asleep.

In theory, she could leave all that mess for tomorrow, sure, but thanks to her cleaning compulsion, that’s not really an option for her.

If only she could be a little more like Naruto...

Still, as she shakes her pink head, Sakura decides there’s no use in thinking about it tonight. That’s a problem for her future-self, and even if she’s probably going to regret that decision in the morning, right now, this is her moment. She can drink a full glass of champagne while eating another piece of her strawberry cake, and the best part is that she can do it all while enjoying the company of the only one whose presence will never be a bother to her.

Once she finally reaches her kitchen, the pinkette is fast to register the dirty dishes laying around the counter. There are way more glasses than the number of people she invited for the party, but for a brief moment, she forgets that she’s the owner of that mess. Her emerald eyes automatically drift towards the sink, and her heart skips a beat at the scene playing in front of her.

Not even in her wildest, teenage-ish dreams would she have ever pictured Uchiha Sasuke doing her dishes after her birthday party. Though she knows she’s the one who’s technically responsible for all of that, it’s inevitable for her to be entertained by how focused he seems to be while attempting to remove that lipstick stain from the cup.

How lovely, she ponders, bitting her lower lip in order to suppress a chuckle.

Too bad she can’t just keep watching him for the rest of the night.

“You know, even if I appreciate both your help and the view, you don’t have to do this, Sasuke-kun.” Sakura says, picking up some of the plates laying around and walking towards the sink. She’s standing by his side now, his tall body towering over hers, almost a head taller. The expression decorating his features remains unaltered, and she notices how he slowly moves to give her some space next to him. “You can go rest, if you want.”

“Do you want me to go leave?” He asks, unaltered, while scrubbing another knife.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She answers, grabbing a piece of cloth to dry the cutlery he has already washed. “I just don’t want you to do something you don’t want just because it’s my birthday or anything like that. It’s fine, really. I can do it alone.”

“Hn, It’s faster if we do it together.” He stops, a sly smirk taking over the corner of his lips as he closes the tap. His eyes are on hers, now, and she can feel her chest warming up in response. “Unless you wanna do it all by yourself.”

“Nope.” She says, promptly, handing him another dirty spoon and he’s quick to resume what he was doing. Her eyes watch the way the water runs through his fingers, and oddly, she can’t help but find that amusing. “If you’re willing to help, who am I to say no, right?”

A giggle escapes her lips when she hears the ‘tch’ that escaped from his lips, and eventually, they fall in a comfortable silence that is only disturbed by the clanking of the dishes touching each other. Every now and then, their fingers brush when he hands her the plates, and though she can still feel the sparks, those simple touches are no longer enough to make her blush in embarrassment as they used to.

His touch is no longer a stranger to her skin. His presence and his warmth have long been registered by her subconscious, marking every cell of her body with his constant presence. It’s been over 5 springs since their childish love finally bloomed into a serious relationship, and by now, both Sasuke and Sakura have grown used to one another. It goes beyond carnal desires or any poor excuse for a casual company, for their hearts share a connection deeper than words could ever describe.

Blame it on the fact that they used to be good friends before or even fate itself, but it’s impossible to deny the fact that they’ve reached the apex of their young love-life, to the point where doing the dishes together feels wholesome in ways neither of them can explain. There’s a sense of domesticity and mutual understanding shared in between unspoken words, and perhaps, that’s why it works so well for them as a couple. Even if they’re very different people, with different routines and personalities, they make it work.

They have enough trust, love and companionship to last for a life-time.

And though that should be enough—hell, that should be more than enough— Sakura can’t help but feel that there’s still something missing.

Something she can’t quite pin-point, but something that makes perfect moments lose their magic, for she knows they just won’t last. Even now, as they’re doing the dishes and making small conversation about how the party went, deep inside, her heart is heavy because she knows that once those dishes are clean, it will all be over and she will be left alone in her apartment before midnight strikes.

No matter how hard she tries, their moments together have their life-spawn shortened by the common laws of the universe, for every time there’s that stupid parting moment in which they both have to go separate ways. It’s painful for her to watch him disappear in the distance, and even if he doesn’t really express it with words, she can see the light in his eyes fading whenever they have to say goodbye. It’s always a new ‘good night’ and never a constant ‘good morning’ for them, and after so long, she’s sick and tired of this.

Perhaps, it’s just her tired-self speaking too loud in her head or even the few drinks she had during the party, but tonight, she doesn’t want the world to stand between them. Tonight, Sakura will break the natural laws, not caring about the consequences of finally taking the next step.

It’s still her birthday, after all. That has to count for something.

Her heart is beating faster now that she has made up her mind, and she realizes that she’s shaking when she picks another fork from his hands. She’s swallowing dry, and if not for the make up in her face, she knows he would be able to see a crimson blush decorating her cheeks. It’s now or never, she thinks. And before she has the chance to talk herself out of it, Haruno Sakura decides to act.

“Uhm... Sasuke-kun.” She starts, her voice shaky as his name slips from her tongue. Clearly, she forgot to think about the proper way of actually saying what she wanted, choosing instead to improvise— something she’s never really been good at. “I was thinking... Why don’t you spend the night here? You don’t have to go home after this.”

“Don’t even think about going to sleep, Sakura. You’re not leaving all of this mess to me.”

“Oi, that’s not what I meant!” She scolded him, a pout taking over her expression. “Shannarou, I just don’t want you to go home all alone at such late hours. Besides, is it wrong for a girl to want to stay with her boyfriend for the night?”

“You pervert.” He smirks, earning an elbow to his ribs in response. For someone so small, it’s undeniable that his girlfriend has some sort of abnormal strength people like her shouldn’t possess.

“Shut up. That’s not what I meant either! I just... I just don’t want you to leave, that’s all.”

Her words come out a little too low, but high enough so that he can hear them. Her voice sounded an octave too-melancholic, and perhaps, that was what made him actually take her offer seriously. “Hn, I guess I could. I don’t have to work tomorrow, so I can go home once when you leave for the hospital.”

“Really?” Sakura starts, a smile now threatening to take over her features. Though she still had to convey her real plan, that was already a win. A small one, but a win, nonetheless. “Well, you don’t have to leave that early if you don’t want to. You can just...stay. Maybe even wait for me to get home from the hospital and then we could eat dinner together.”

“What?” His eyes widen at her idea, and right now, she can’t really tell if his surprised expression is good or bad. “Aren’t you going to stay there until late tomorrow?”

“Well, probably, but you can stay here... is that a problem?”

”It’s not really a problem, but... I just don’t want to abuse your hospitality. It’s still your apartment, Sakura.” He scratches the back of his neck, and she could see that he was truly concerned about his manners. His mother has taught him how to be a gentleman, and even if she loves that about him, right now, she wishes he could let loose and just take her offer.

She bites her lower lip at his words, a puff of annoyance inflating her cheeks at his answer. Her boyfriend’s has never been good at reading her signs, and now, when not even she’s understanding them, the pinkette is starting to freak out.

Things are not going as planned— not that she actually planned anything to begin with. Her head is spiraling as she watches the snow-ball being created by her messy words, and slowly, she can feel her chance slipping through her fingers. If she doesn’t say it now, Sakura’s going to miss her opportunity, and who knows what’s going to happen to them. Will they break up? Will he think she’s not interested in a long-term commitment? Will they never do the dishes again?

No, she’s overthinking again. They have a solid relationship that has been built over the years and she’s not going to ruin it all in one night because she’s acting like a coward. She’s a modern, independent woman. A doctor, damn it. She has done a lot of things that were harder than asking her boyfriend to move in with her.

She can do it. She will do it.

“Sasuke-kun!” Her voice is determined now, her eyes filled with a different fire in them. This is it. No backing out now. “I need to ask you something important. It’s about our future together.”

“Okay... I’m listening.” He states, a little taken aback by her sudden burst. He stops what he’s doing, his dark irises now looking into her emerald ones. They’re holding a certain hope in them, and if anything, she was not expecting him to be paying that much attention to her. She’s feeling pressured by them, intimidated even. Her knees are shaking, her lips are trembling and her mind is suddenly blank.

She can’t do it. Nope. Not with those eyes staring into her soul.

“I-I... I...” Her heart is beating faster, and she feels like it will burst out of her chest any minute now. She’s going to faint, she can tell it.

“What is it, Sakura?”

“I-I...” She swallows, then, sighing as courage escapes her body. The pinkette has chickened out, finally opting for her ever-reliable plan B. “Naruto is an idiot, right?”

“... Yes.” He starts, his brows furrowing in confusion. “But what does that have to do with our future?”

“E-Everything! I mean, did you see how drunk he was tonight? Thank god Sai offered himself to take him home tonight, but we can rely on that forever. As his best friends, we have to do something about it. He lives far from both of us and we need a plan whenever we have a drinking night together.”

A moment of palpable tension grows between them, and right now, she’s sure he can hear her heart beating like crazy inside her chest. I’m an idiot, she thinks, holding back the urge to lower her head and cry. Sakura has just ruined everything, and right now, she’s going to have to pretend to actually care about where Naruto crashes when he’s drunk just so her boyfriend doesn’t think she’s completely crazy.

Ugh, those damn eyes of his. Why do they have to be so *freaking beautiful?

Thankfully, they can also read her like an open book.

“Hn, you’re right.” He says, finally breaking the silence that surrounded them. His voice is calm and understanding, as always, and she can feel her heart settling down at that. If anything, at least, his reaction isn’t bad or anything. “I guess we will have to have a spare room for him when we move in together.”

“Yeah, sure. A spare room when we—“ Her mind stops. Her hands freeze while holding the cloth and her green eyes widen. Her lips part slightly, but no word dares coming out of them.

Did he... Did he just say what she thinks he said?

She doesn’t know what kind of face she’s making right now, but if anything, she’s completely dumbfounded by his words. Sure, it’s not like he’s making a move tonight or anything, but he did say the words, right? Move in together. The three words she was trying so hard to get out of her chest, simply rolled out of his tongue as if it is the most logical thing in the world— and perhaps, it is. He says them in a way as if that decision won’t change their lives forever. As if it won’t affect their routine and the amount of food they have to buy at the grocery store.

It’s a decision that goes beyond a drawer filled with socks or an extra tooth-brush. And even if he sounds as calm as ever, she knows he’s aware of all that, because, if anything, Uchiha Sasuke doesn’t do anything based on impulse. He’s the kind of man who thinks things through and studies every possibility before making a decision.

So that means...

“Sasuke-kun... Are you suggesting that we move in together?”

“Aa.” He nods, no hesitation in his voice. “Weren’t you trying to say the same?”

“I-I... I was?” She says, sounding more like a question, to which he simply quirks an eyebrow in inquiry. If anything, that was not the moment for doubts anymore. “I mean, yes! That was exactly what I was trying to say.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

“Is it? Really?” She asks, hope now running through her veins and lighting up her entire system.

“Yes. It’s only natural for people like us, right?”

“Yeah...” He cheeks grow warmer, and her chest suddenly feels lighter. At last, he took the words out of her. “It’s settled, then.”

At last, their days of saying goodbye are counted and now they can enjoy each other from dawn to dusk.

A smile slowly makes its way to her eyes, and she can’t help but switch her attention to him. Sasuke is now looking at her, a soft expression taking over his face. She’s bewildered right now as she looks at the man who will be living with her. Totally and completely marveled, and more in love with him than she has ever been before in her life.

He understands her unsaid words and they share similar ideas regarding their past, present and future.

They are in love, and now, they’re ready to share the same roof above their pretty, little heads.

“You’re still staying with me tonight, right?”

“Tch.You really are a pervert, Sakura.”

He splashes her face with some water from the sink and her giggles fill her kitchen with joy. They’re young and in love, and for now, that’s all they need to take the next step towards their future together.

the end

[ahgaseda]

aura | one

driving me crazy, look in my eyes, follow me, come here, dance with me now, I’m gonna make you feel like that...

summary : back again at a camp for kids that can’t behave, you are still brokenhearted over your ill-fated romance with Jaebeom, until your friend Jackson offers to help make your ex jealous in exchange for helping him land the most unattainable girl at camp.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, recurring alcohol or recreational drug use, graphic sexual content, brief mentions of illegal activities, potentially triggering elements involving toxic relationships and emotional manipulation, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

The sun was too bright. Rays pierced the gossamer curtains and shone into your eyes. You vaguely recollected your mother bursting in and throwing the windows open, ordering you to get up. Now, the sun had risen and you were cutting it close.

With a grumble, you threw the blanket over your head and rolled over, eager to sleep the day away. And maybe tomorrow, too.

Being in a constant state of denial and dread was exhausting.

Slowly, you drifted back into a dream. Well, maybe less a dream and more a memory. Perhaps it was all a fantasy at this point, the way you recounted it, lingering on only the good parts.

You remembered every insignificant detail of that night - the night you reached your greatest high and deepest low in the span of an hour. The moon had been full and the crickets were singing. The air had cooled from its typical summer heat, but the dirt was warm beneath your bare toes.

Sneaking off in the middle of the night with a boy. You would have never in your wildest dreams done something so reckless.

But he said he wanted to watch the stars and kiss you beneath the moonlight. Endlessly. You escaped with him down the beaten path, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. Then, he backed you against a tree and kissed you like he had completely run out of patience.

You remembered smiling against his mouth, giggling when his tongue teased your bottom lip. Your hands were on his shoulders while he cradled your face. At some point, you broke away and he stared at the sparkles in your eyes.

“I love you,” was all he said. The first of many lies.

You followed him. It didn’t matter where he went, you were ready to follow him off the edge of the earth if he asked. Jaebeom held you so tenderly, yet tight and secure. You had no hesitations and certainly no regrets when he laid you on your back, kissing you restlessly.

But it was a lie.

You moaned his name when Jaebeom pressed his lips to your neck. You could still remember how your heart thundered uncontrollably whilst he tongued his way between your breasts. You had never wanted someone as badly as you wanted Jaebeom. The boy who made you fall in love with him.

But it was all a lie.

Even the way you whimpered when he took you was a persistent echo in your mind. The noises he had drawn from you were carnal, to say the least. His skin was hot beneath your fingertips, his hair damp when you tangled your hand through his strands, and his naked body heavy on top of yours. He kissed you with such gentle affection when he buried himself inside you.

But it was still a lie.

You truly believed he was making love to you, every last inch of you. He was all you knew in that moment. With Jaebeom, you lived like there was no tomorrow. And you would never forget the way his face tensed with ecstasy, how he groaned your name when he filled you. All you cared about in that moment was his pleasure - his love. It was all you ever wanted.

But it was his biggest lie.

You opened your eyes, tears escaping down your cheeks, and forced away the bitter memories. Every beautiful moment spent with Jaebeom kept coming back and you wanted to set them all aflame until you forgot every single fucking detail.

You remembered how he smelled, how he felt. How his arms flexed around you when he hugged you close. How he smiled when he made you laugh. How he kissed your hand at the most random of times. How he whispered his love into the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

Your heart couldn’t take it anymore. What was once sugar on your tongue turned to ash and dust in your mouth. You didn’t think you were capable of this much pain.

Jaebeom had taught you a very hard lesson. And yet, though you would never admit it to anyone, you still loved him.

Suddenly, the door to your bedroom burst open and a familiar voice announced, “Rise and shine, dear!”

It belonged to your best friend, your childhood rival, and most inconveniently, your next door neighbor.

“Jackson,” you groaned, muffled against your pillow. “Not now. Go away.”

“Baby, you know we on a schedule,” he chirped with the speed of a man who had already ingested too much coffee, grabbing your comforter and ripping it off the bed without mercy.

You cried out at the unexpected cold on your bare legs, curling into the fetal position to try and trap some warmth to your body. You then bounced lightly on the mattress as Jackson leapt into the air and landed on your bed in the most spectacular fashion.

His face moved predictably before yours, inches away, and he was sporting a grin that could be filed under Jackson’s trademarked twisted delight. “It’s camp day,” he said excitedly.

You blinked. “I know.”

Jackson sat up and reached over to smack your butt. “Get up,” he yelled, sidling off your bed. “Breakfast will get cold.”

You huffed profanities under your breath and clambered after him.

Downstairs, your mother and stepfather sat at the kitchen table. Maids attended to them, waiting on their every move. Such was commonplace in the penthouses of preternaturally wealthy people.

“Ah, I knew you could handle it, Jackson,” your mother crooned.

Jackson plopped down at one end of the table, opposite your stepfather with his nose buried in a newspaper. You finished tying the knot of your fluffy bathrobe and took the empty seat across from your mother.

“Everything is packed and loaded in the car,” she informed, her tone a little harsher where you were concerned.

“I promise, Mom,” you began, eyes cast downward. “I won’t go back there again.”

It was true. You were so caught up in negative ways of coping that by the time you realized you were going to get yourself sent back to the one place you would be forced to see Jaebeom again, it was too late.

“Well, if only you had found that resolve last year,” she chided, stabbing a piece of melon with her fork.

You clocked a glance at your friend. Jackson happily stuffed his face, eating everything in sight. Despite living in the penthouse next to yours, with his equally wealthy parents, Jackson opted to eat at your table more often than not.

Preferably so he wouldn’t have to listen to his parents fighting.

“Can we expect the same promise from you, Jackson?” your mother asked, as if she were speaking to her favorite puppy.

She always did love Jackson. He was like the son she never had. Although, in her defense, it wasn’t hard to love Jackson. He was the golden child that every mother’s wet dream was made of.

“Absolutely not,” he retorted politely, grinning from ear to ear. “Some of my closest friends are at that camp.”

Your mother chuckled, having expected as much.

Your stepfather finally lowered the corner of his paper and called your name sternly, as if oblivious - or uncaring - to the conversation taking place.

You glanced up.

“Eat your food. It’s a long drive and I’ll hear nothing of you getting faint on your first day.”

Jackson and your mother both looked to you expectantly.

You flashed him a soft smile and said, “Yes, sir.”

Stepfather number three, despite having more money than God, was surprisingly kind and considered you one of his own. There was a time you overheard him say you were the daughter he always wanted. His three sons had far surpassed mischief and landed in deviance, always on the hunt for his money.

The maid offered sweetly to make you some breakfast, whatever you would like, and you accepted. Jackson swiftly reached over and pinched your cheek in approval.

Most respectable parents would never be so lenient toward a friendship between a girl and a boy, but you knew your mother was hoping you and Jackson would get together. It would be a fine match in high society, given the status of your fathers.

Matter of fact, when she walked in on the two of you eating chocolate and watching movies while cuddled in bed, she was thoroughly disappointed you weren’t having sex.

When you finished eating, you dragged your feet upstairs to your room to get dressed for the trip. Jackson took a few extra minutes to clear his plate and then joined you.

Standing in front of three full panel mirrors in your bra and underwear, you alternated holding skirts up to yourself in the reflection. Jackson folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

“What does one wear for total humiliation?” you asked dryly, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“Plaid probably,” he quipped, uncrossing his arms and slipping into your closet.

You turned, brow furrowed, and waited for him to come back.

When Jackson finally emerged, he tossed you a t-shirt and jeans. Casual at its finest.

You caught the clothes and surveyed them in surprise. “Really?”

“Put ‘em on,” he said, clapping his hands. “Let’s blow this town.”

You pulled the extra tight jeans on, fastening them with a huff, and pestered, “Do you have to be this excited?”

Jackson came close, taking your face between his hands and pushing your cheeks together. “The sooner we get there, the faster we can get drunk.”

You snickered, rolling your eyes.

The two of you came thundering down the stairs, reminiscent of times you and Jackson slid down the banisters as noisy kids. Your mother waited stiffly at the door, almost cracking a smile when you galloped into the kitchen and pressed a kiss in farewell to your stepfather’s cheek.

She may have been after his money like a cat on a mouse, but she inadvertently found a decent father for her only daughter.

Jackson said his hurried, loud goodbyes and slipped through the open door. You slowed down long enough to take your jacket from your mother’s waiting hand and endure one last scrutinizing gaze.

“Is he seeing someone?” she asked softly.

“Nope,” you chuckled, having expected some backhanded remark about your outfit.

Your mother spoke like she read a whimsical poem, “The two of you would make the most perfect couple this side of the Hudson.”

“Love you, too, Mom,” you teased, pecking a kiss on her cheek and trotting out the door.

The limousine rolled out onto the busy streets of New York City and you peered through the tinted windows. You watched as the looming skyscrapers turned to towering green trees.

As the drive went on, your nerves only grew.

With misplaced optimism, you turned to Jackson and said, “Maybe he won’t be there this year.”

Jackson didn’t even look up from his magazine and droned, “He’s been there every year since he was seven.”

You slumped in your seat, defeated. Clapping a hand on your forehead in self-chastisement, you groaned, “I should have been better, not worse.”

Jackson shifted, leaning back against you and resting his head on your chest. “I’ve never seen you so out of control,” he exclaimed, turning a page in the magazine. “And that says a lot.”

It said plenty. Jackson had warned you about Jaebeom many, many times. Though you held his opinion in high regard, you didn’t listen. You were blinded by love and had no one to blame but yourself.

You grabbed a handful of his brown hair and tugged playfully, earning a tiny whine. “Yeah, well,” you murmured, acerbic. “He stole all of the goodness out of me.”

Jackson scoffed and his tone became stern, “Don’t give him so much credit. And don’t put all of your goodness on your virginity, for fuck’s sake.”

You sighed loudly, thinking about Jaebeom and how he made your pulse race, how he sent fire racing down your spine. The thought of him made you want to cry and you quickly clenched your jaws.

“It’s true though, isn’t it? I’m a bad girl now,” you countered, draping your arm over his chest. “I surrendered my virtuous flower to a boy who added another notch to his bed post.”

Of your memories with Jaebeom, and they were countless, among the stolen kisses and soft touches and sweet words, one stood out above all the rest. The last time you saw him - when he told you it was all a lie, just a game.

That he never loved you.

Jackson sat up, setting down his magazine and facing you. He could feel where your thoughts had wandered, screaming at him to ease the pain despite no words leaving your mouth. Meeting your eyes, Jackson wanted you to hear him even though the two of you had been over it many times already.

“You loved him,” he said, sympathetic but firm. “And he made it a good experience for you. Take that away from it.”

“You’re right,” you replied with a nod, holding back the tears and the quivering of your lip. “I need to let it go.”

Jackson cocked his head and pressed, “But?”

He knew you too well.

“But I can’t,” you whispered, lowering your head to hide your face in shame. “I can’t get over being in love with someone who never - not even for a moment - loved me back.”

Jackson balled his hands into fists. It had taken every inch of his goddamn restraint not to hop a plane, show up at Lim Jaebeom’s house, and beat the living shit out of him. You and his mother were the only people he was willing to go to jail for.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you wiped away the one tear that had escaped. You hated Jackson having to see you like this, staring at you like his precious wounded puppy. With a shrug, you gave a scoff and said, “I wonder who he will have his eyes on this year.”

Jackson frowned and settled back into his seat, shaking his head where the likes of Jaebeom was concerned. He knew three months of unadulterated fun for him were going to be total misery for you. For days he racked his brain over what he could do to help you get over Jaebeom.

Then, the metaphorical light bulb clicked over his head. Who would Jaebeom be pursuing this year? With you crossed off his list, there were simply no more challenges to be had.

Jackson smirked. The solution to this problem was clear as day. He would have to make Jaebeom chase you again.

“I have an idea,” Jackson muttered under his breath, eyes gleaming with devilish intent.

“Oh, boy,” you laughed, recognizing his telltale mischief.

Jackson faced you, propping himself on hands positioned at either side of your legs. “You help me bag Yeona and I will help you make Jaebeom jealous,” he said, letting his tongue linger at the corner of his mouth.

Your expression registered nothing but surprise. Yeona was the bane of Jackson’s romantic skills and the eye of his conquests for years. She was the only girl at camp not the least bit impressed with him and that drove him crazy.

At that thought you realized the similar dynamic. “Do you think that would work?” you asked curiously, piqued.

Relieved to see your approval, Jackson nodded. “He’s like me. He wants what he can’t have.”

To some degree, Jackson added in his head. He and Jaebeom had totally different motivations for stealing hearts.

You questioned in disbelief, “So… what? We just walk around making out all the time?”

Jackson snorted. “Within moderation, obviously. Don’t want to completely turn off either of our targets.”

One of the main reasons you never hooked up with Jackson (on more than one occasion you had been tempted) was to spite your insufferable mother after what she had put you through. That being said, you had kissed him more than once. Usually when dared to do so at parties or during sleepovers when you bared your deepest, darkest secrets to each other. It was always innocent, but this felt forbidden and impure.

You loved the idea.

“Hm, okay,” you said, noncommittal. “At this point, I’ll do anything to make him as miserable as I am.”

Jackson grinned and chuckled. “Take my word for it. There is nothing more miserable than blue balls.”

You pursed your lips, mulling, “He’s already had me. He won’t want me again.”

“I’ll convince him you’re worth having,” Jackson replied, his voice a deep rumble in his throat. “And you’ll do the same to Yeona about me.”

“What makes you think Yeona will be that hard to get? You’ve never really pursued her before.”

Jackson slid to the edge of the seat and reached for a bottle of alcohol currently sitting on ice. “She doesn’t believe in sex before marriage.”

That explained why he threw in the towel so quickly. You cocked a brow and chuckled, “Really?”

Jackson nodded, popping open the bottle of champagne and grabbing two glasses. “Yeah, even wears a promise ring.”

“Wow, that’s commitment,” you smarted, taking the flute of bubbly he extended to you.

Jackson glanced up briefly before pouring his own glass, hair falling in his eyes, and said, “Don’t wallow in self-pity again.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly defended, “No, I’m not. It’s just… I wasn’t saving myself for marriage, but I was saving myself for someone that loved me.”

Jackson exhaled loudly.

You hated hearing his disappointment and ranted irritably, “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. It wasn’t even good. There was no leg shaking orgasm. It was messy and uncomfortable and whatever.”

“That’s because it was your first time,” Jackson said, putting the glass to his lips.

You took a sip. “Yeah, I guess.”

Jackson leaned on his side, sizing you up. His eyes drifted up and down your body. He hated seeing you bent out of shape over a boy, least of all hot garbage like Lim Jaebeom.

After a pause, the following words dripped like honey off his tongue, “We could fool around, you know.”

You almost choked on your champagne, wondering if you heard him clearly or if it was a figment of your imagination. You exclaimed, “What?”

“You and me,” Jackson continued, sidling closer. “I could show you what all the fuss is about.”

He sounded so smug when he said that, his voice even deeper. You swallowed at the offer and asked, “Would that be awkward?”

“No, it would just be sex. No strings attached.”

The knife in your heart twisted and you peered at him. “Could you make me forget about Jaebeom?”

Jackson leaned in. “Baby, I could make you see stars.”

Heat flushed behind your cheeks and you glanced away, faltering under the sudden tension in the limousine. “I’ll think about it,” you finally told him.

Satisfied, Jackson grinned and made himself comfortable, opening the magazine again and proceeding to read.

You surveyed Jackson out of the corner of your eye, lingering on his thick thighs. Years of fencing had built him strong, sturdy. When Jackson said he could make you see stars, you were inclined to believe him.

Especially since the vast majority of his exes tended to brag about how good he was in bed.

You thought about Jaebeom. You wanted him to go crazy at the sight of you in Jackson’s arms. You craved revenge, to serve him a taste of his own medicine, no matter what it cost.

The car eventually came to a stop on the gravel road. Attendants were ready to unload your luggage and transport it to your respective rooms. It may have been a camp for unruly brats, but said brats came from very affluent parents.

An older woman stood by the gate, black hair glistening a little too fiercely in the sunlight. Clearly she had sprayed dye on her graying roots.

“Ah, you two again,” she grimaced at yours and Jackson’s approach.

You took the keys from her outstretched hand and continued on your way without a word. Jackson on the other hand, leaned in with puckered lips and jeered, “Always a pleasure, Miss Hamm.”

“Hmph.”

You continued on the path with your best friend in tow. Your cabin was in sight, on the bluff beside the lake. Jackson’s was adjacent, slightly lower down. Your parents made sure you had the same spots each year, always furnished and equipped with everything you needed.

Some of the campers lived in bunkhouses with other roommates, but not you. Your first year, you swore to your mother if you were forced to bunk with other girls you would not stop until you got yourself sent home. It was an easy compromise to make. She loved traveling during the summer with stepfather number two.

You stopped and pivoted to Jackson, saying, “I’m gonna go freshen up.”

“Alright,” he replied. “Meet at the mess hall?”

Naturally his mind was on food, you mused. “Of course.”

Jackson looped an arm around your waist and pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear, “Don’t hide in there from him. Remember - I got your back.”

You nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek in gratitude.

The two of you broke away at the fork in the road, taking opposite paths to your cabins.

Dropping your purse, you plopped down on the brand new mattress, gripping the sides and looking down at your shoes. The air conditioning had been turned on, the cabin had already cooled off. You would never know how hot it was outside whilst inside your pink-themed prison.

The camp was meant to reform. It didn’t matter that you were a legal adult, you still belonged to a rich and influential family in high society. It was like the parents knew their spoiled, entitled children would indulge in bad behaviors, therefore it was best they did so in controlled environments.

You already imagined the endless nights of booze and debauchery awaiting you for the next three months. Maybe it was time you embraced the darker side of life like you used to, rather than wasting away and pining over a boy.

Rising from the bed, you approached the nearby bathroom and braced your hands on the sink. Studying your reflection, you wanted to curse. You looked like a shadow of your former self.

The girl you knew was confident, vivacious, and a rebel to the core. You were quieter now, tempered. An experience like last summer had opened your eyes to how cruel the world really was.

Still, you were ready to buck up. Jackson had a plan and you were willing to execute if it meant you would have some kind of absolution. Splashing water on your face, you dabbed your cheeks with a cloth and headed outside.

The largest of the buildings, the mess hall was loud and chaotic. The majority of kids went straight to the line for food, hungry after a long trip. The place was alive with a hundred different conversations, varying levels of chatter. Friends reunited dramatically in the aisleways.

You searched for a friendly face, desperate to avoid Jaebeom for now, and spotted a head of platinum hair. Approaching the scrawny boy, you grabbed a handful of blond locks and teased, “Bam, I thought you were gonna let your poor scalp breathe?”

Bambam didn’t flinch at the brief tug on his head and turned to meet your grin with one of his own. “Hey, beautiful,” he exclaimed, leaping up to envelope you in a warm hug. “Thought you were gonna try and avoid this place for once?”

“Yeah, well,” you said coolly with a shrug. “Bad behaviors are hard to break.”

“You’re telling me,” huffed Bambam as he lowered back onto the row with you at his side. “I landed myself back here in the first week of the semester.”

You laughed, smoothing down where you had disrupted his hair. “I expect nothing less.” Looking across the table, you met eyes with Bambam’s best friend and partner in crime, Yugyeom, and greeted, “Hey, Yugy.”

“Hi. I’m glad you came back! Well, not glad, obviously, but…,” Yugyeom rambled, cheeks reddening. “Happy you’re here. You know, it wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Thanks,” you replied shyly.

“Any sign of Jackson?” Bambam asked, glancing around. “Don’t you always come together?”

Yugyeom kindly pushed his plate of fruit in your direction and you thanked him. “Yeah, we did. He was supposed to meet me here,” you answered, popping a grape in your mouth.

“Probably sneaking a smoke with Mark,” Bambam grumbled quietly under his breath.

Yugyeom cleared his throat loudly, looking at something behind you.

Just as you turned around, brows stitched, someone sat at your side.

It was Jaebeom.

He didn’t face the table like the rest of you, he straddled the seat, squarely in your direction.

“Hi, baby girl. Imagine my surprise when I heard about all the trouble you got yourself into,” Jaebeom taunted, clicking his tongue in feigned reproach. His fingertips came to your temple, slipping through your loose hair and tucking it behind your ear.

You couldn’t breathe and you certainly couldn’t think. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He smelled so good. The mere touch of his fingers made you freeze in place. You wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“I…,” you trailed, hesitating, lost for words. What the hell were you supposed to say?

I love you, but I hate you.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Jaebeom cooed, stroking a finger over your cheek. “Cat got your tongue?”

You could feel the tears gathering in your eyes. Even Yugyeom seethed at how Jaebeom was toying with you.

This was the humiliation you had been anticipating and dreading. You knew Jaebeom wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to remind you that he stole your heart and your virginity and left you with nothing.

The whole camp knew that you had given it up. That you had been such a fool to believe for a second that Jaebeom loved you.

Blind. Blind. Blind, you chanted in your head.

Jackson appeared out of thin air, grabbing Jaebeom’s wrist and pulling him from you. “Can I help you find something?” your best friend snapped.

Jaebeom rose, agitated at being challenged. “The fuck are you doing, Wang?”

Jackson drifted closer to Jaebeom, aggressive. “Keep your hands off my girl.”

Jaebeom’s eyes widened. “Your girl?”

“You heard me,” Jackson hissed, turning to you.

You remembered the game. Jackson’s eyes were expectant.

Finding your voice, you took a breath. “I’m so sorry to break the news to you, Jaebeom,” you began softly, rising from your seat and backing into Jackson, who didn’t miss a beat in wrapping his arms possessively around you. “I’ve moved onto bigger and better things. And I mean much, much bigger.”

Bambam beat his fist on the table, cackling wildly.

Jaebeom scowled, but there was skepticism bold in his eyes. Jackson promptly wiggled his brows and stroked his hands on your waist, intentionally making your shirt ride up.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” you sang, interlacing your fingers with Jackson’s underneath the hem of your shirt. “We’re gonna go make out in the hallway. Seeing Daddy get territorial really does it for me.”

Jackson wagged his tongue at Jaebeom, gladly laughing at his expense, as you squeezed his hand and proceeded to drag your best friend behind you into the hallway.

Jaebeom watched you go, eyes narrowed. Something didn’t sit right with him. He had known you for years, Jackson too. He couldn’t imagine driving you into Jackson’s arms. Not with how fierce and loyal your friendship was.

He didn’t believe it for a second.

Once in the clear, you backed against the wall and giggled. “Oh my god, did you see his face?” you exclaimed, covering your mouth as you chuckled.

Jackson tickled your sides and joked, “Look at your little sick and twisted self. I’m so proud.”

The door next to you opened and like clockwork, Jaebeom stepped out.

The grin vanished from your face in an instant and you quickly grabbed Jackson by the collar, yanking him forward. Jackson collided into you none too gently and grunted, silenced only by your lips suddenly on his.

Jaebeom could hardly believe his eyes. There you were, swept up in Jackson’s arms with your tongue down his throat. He was green with fucking envy. It had taken him a whole summer to open you up and now you were throwing yourself at Jackson of all people.

Jackson slipped his hands beneath your shirt and roamed his hands up your sides, giving Jaebeom a glimpse of your soft skin. You overlapped your arms around his head, making little noises in the heat of his kisses.

Jaebeom felt a twitch in his pants at the sounds you made. That was supposed to be him. You were supposed to be in his arms, kissing him like he was all you had thought about every day since he ripped your heart out and crushed it in his hand for all to see.

“Pfft,” Jaebeom snorted, hiding his jealousy. “Glad I could break her in for you, Jacks.”

Neither of you heard him, which was lucky for Jaebeom because Jackson would not have hesitated to beat him to a bloody pulp.

Jaebeom cleared out. He couldn’t stand to watch anymore. Not when he had spent every day wondering if you would forgive him. Jaebeom shook his head as he continued down the hall, reminded what a stupid fucking mistake he had made.

Kissing Jackson made you forget what you were doing, where you were, and basically any and all information you were meant to be processing at the moment. Finally a sense of clarity hit you, though you had no earthly clue where it had come from.

Breaking away, you panted, “Okay, if we’re gonna do this, we have to lay down some ground rules.”

Jackson kneaded your waist and nipped at your lips, ever flirtatious. His voice came out a rasp when he said, “Give ‘em to me.”

“No sleeping around,” you told him sternly. “I’ve never had a sexually transmitted disease and I’m not starting now.”

Jackson bobbed his head, eager to kiss you again. “Deal.”

“When you get Yeona or I get Jaebeom, what’s between us is done.”

“Agreed.”

You softened, pulling him close for a brief, innocent peck on the lips. It wasn’t the first time you had kissed Jackson and it wouldn’t be the last.

But you realized when you were kissing Jackson, you forgot about Jaebeom and your feelings.

And that was dangerous.

“You’re my best friend,” you whispered delicately, tracing hair from his brow lightly with your fingers. “If either of us starts getting feelings, we shut this down.”

Jackson studied you a moment. He knew he loved you. He had loved you a long time. But it was an innocent love, not a complicated one. You were the only person he trusted with his heart. The only person he knew would never hurt him.

He wouldn’t catch feelings for you, would he? It wasn’t in his nature. He didn’t allow himself to get attached romantically. He hated the idea of commitment or monogamy, after seeing what his parents’ marriage had devolved into.

“Got it,” Jackson finally said, offering a gentle smile.

You swallowed, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. Jaebeom was gone. There was no one to convince anymore.

Jackson let his hands slip from your body. “We should go back.”

You nodded. “Yeah, just give me a second.”

Jackson noted the heat on your face, the glistening of your lips and the twinkles in your eyes. Forget making you see stars, Jackson knew in that moment he could absolutely ruin you.

He gathered you back in his arms, pulling you flush against him, and as you peered up at him confusedly, Jackson growled, “Let’s go to my cabin.”

A long, heavy silence wrapped around you and him. The weight of what you were doing landed squarely on your shoulders. And despite that, you found yourself not giving a damn.

Lips tugging in a smile, you purred, “Show me what I’ve been missing.”

But even as Jackson led you by the hand out of the mess hall, you glanced over your shoulder, looking for Jaebeom.

Wanting him to see. Wanting it to hurt him. Wanting to make him crazy.

But mostly, just wanting him to love you.

next chapter →

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This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[divine-bangtan]

- sugar & spice (m) jjk & kth

➻ summary: “Your assistant Jungkook has been harbouring secret feelings for you, the sweet bakery owner, for some time now. But what will happen when Taehyung, handsome, smooth as ever and mysteriously new to town comes along to sweep you off your feet?”

➻ Kiki’s Delivery Service!AU

➻ word count: 20.8k

➻ pairing: older baker!reader x baker assistant Jungkook x upperclass Taehyung.

➻ warnings: angst, reader doubts herself a lot, unprotected penetrative sex (pls keep this a fantasy only and wrap it), oral m. and f. receiving, spitroasting, creampie...hehe, food play, mentions of mxm, pregnancy, pregnant sex, lactation, squirting, anal fingering, anal sex, double penetration, daddy kink, and somehow also tooth rotting fluff.

➻ A/N: Thank you to my lovely cutie pie and fellow cherry koo enthusiast @gingerpeachtae​ for beta reading this for me! 🍒💜 The age of the reader is totally up to you! I’m absolutely in love with this AU, it’s the fluffiest yet the filthiest thing I’ve ever written yet. If you’re wondering about the time period, the film is set in a kind of alternate 30s though it’s not confirmed.

Moodboard I Music

It started with the gardenia. 

The first time Taehyung visited your bakery he had left behind a small white flower on the bakery counter when you weren’t looking, startling you in the most pleasant of ways when you nearly crushed it with your hand. You lifted the petals to brush the tip of your nose as you sampled the sweet scent, a blush warming your cheeks as you remembered how his charming smile had you flustered and fretful yet so endeared. However, what was not lost on you was the meaning behind it. Secret love.

 “...Miss?” A voice trailed off, disturbing you from your wandering thoughts and turning your attention to the customer right in front of you. “May I please get four apple danishes, a loaf of bread and a box of orange poppy seed muffins?”

“Sorry, yes of course! One moment please, hey Kookie?” You called in a singsong voice as you slipped into the back workroom. “We’ve got another order for orange poppyseed, how long will they be?”

Your part-time helper came in the form of Jeon Jungkook, but you liked to call him Kookie due to his sweet nature. He was six feet tall, ridiculously muscled and had an adorable bunny smile. He did most of the oven work, tending to the fires and cleaning in the kitchen, but helped you with some of the baking as well. He was particularly gifted at making the most exquisite citrus flavoured cakes, and had more recently been trying to perfect cream puffs.

 “Not long, noona. They’ve been very popular lately,” he mused, dimples etched deeply into his cheeks as he grinned. A smudge of black from the coal darkened one, and you couldn’t help but tut. 

“Of course they are, they’re delicious and it’s going to be spring soon...also you have soot on your face again, Kook,” you informed him, wiping it away with an endeared smile. The gentle tingle of the bell alerted you to another customer entering the store, and you hurried back out the front to continue running your popular business.

 “Sorry, the orange poppyseed will be ready soon. Are you happy to wait?” 

“Of course!” The young lady remarked, tilting to the left slightly to get a glimpse of Jungkook.

You remember the day he had come by your bakery, spotting the sign in your window stating you were looking for a kitchen hand. It was over three years ago now, the young man had just moved here for a change in scenery and was looking for a job. The picturesque seaside town provided the perfect scenery for his hobby of photography, and he was saving up to buy a better camera than the second hand one he currently owned.

It was astonishing how quickly he grew and matured in that time as well, hitting almost a second puberty and growing tall and filling out very nicely. The ladies in the town didn’t miss it either. It was a shame he was so shy around them, looking so out of place with a blush dusting his cheeks when he would catch a flock of them whispering to each other about if the cute baker was seeing anyone. They certainly weren’t coy about the way they would stare at his bulging biceps as he hoisted around the large trays of steaming fresh bread loaves, or wouldn’t hesitate to ogle his behind when he squatted to reach the lower shelves behind the counter. If only he could get a clue, but alas, he was absolutely oblivious.

After about ten minutes Jungkook emerged from the back room to refill the glass display with his cakes that would no doubt be gone within the hour. He handed the young lady a bagful, and flustered when her fingers brushed a little boldly over his.

 “These are really delicious, Mr. Jeon. I would even dare say they’re my favorite. Perhaps you’d like to join me later and we can share them?” She asked him, a glint of hope in her eyes at the way he gawked at her. 

From how pretty she was, you didn’t blame him. In fact, a tiny inkling of jealousy unfurled within you, wishing that you could have handsome men line up the way women did for him. Sure, the young man may have wiggled his way into your heart, setting down roots that began small but steadily grew, but he didn’t seem to return your fledgling feelings. A small smile found its way onto his face - nothing like the one you got from him every morning when you opened up the shop together - but nonetheless he was still smiling at her. 

“Or you could even give me a private lesson on baking? I just had my kitchen redone, it’s so grand.” The young woman suggested, but it was when he started becoming flustered for a response that you realised how uncomfortable he was, and how grotesque and ugly it was for you to be jealous in the first place. “The bench is just the perfect he-”

“I’m afraid Jungkook is working right now, and business is really quite demanding at the moment,” you interrupted, causing her sweet expression to sour. “Remember the wedding at the end of the week? We’ve got a lot of orders to finish up on.”

If looks could kill, you’d surely be six feet under from the bitter expression she shot at you. She huffed and gathered her things, leaving without her usual generous tip. Upon her disappearing from sight, Jungkook let out a long breath, shoulders slumping in relief.

“Thank you noona, I really didn’t like the direction that conversation was taking,” he murmured, looking off into space like he was having a traumatic flashback before shuddering violently. “I can close up shop, you should have an early finish for once, you work too hard.”

You opened your mouth to protest but he shushed you, insisting. “No really, I got it covered. Thank you again, noona.” He swooped in to peck you on the cheek before pushing you toward the back. Powerless against his inhumane strength, you had no choice but to be ushered halfway up the stairs before he bounded back down and returned to the shop.

When you reached the top of the stairs your black cat Jiji was quick to rub around your ankles, purring and meowing for food. You chuckled softly at his dramatic antics, more than once having to shoo him away as you fill his bowl with wet food, scraping the bottom of the tin. Some got on your fingers and you scrunched your nose in distaste, wiping your dirty fingers on your apron before untying it and placing it in your washing basket, absentmindedly wondering what you could do.

You supposed you could always finish off the spread for the wedding pastries and, most importantly, the cake. Sketches were strewn across the coffee table, and you sat down on the couch with a huff, vowing to finish it by tonight. Your eyes were drawn to a photograph of the couple, arms around each other in a sweet embrace as the photo was taken. It was the day they were examining the potential wedding venue, you remember how she gushed about the amount of flowers in the garden when she left you the photographs. Her wedding cake was to be white and have lots of iced flowers on each tier, it was simple yet so beautiful. She seemed happy. You wondered when you would find someone who would return your love the way her fiance seemed to, if his look of adoration was anything to go by. Then you remembered the gardenia, and how you met the young man you gave it to you.

It was getting quite late in the day and your shop normally had a few stragglers around this time, however, this evening it was empty. You had your head stuck in the display case, reaching far in to wipe down each shelf. The soft ringing of the bell on your door didn’t reach your ears, nor the footsteps that made their way to the counter. 

You jumped in fright when a face appeared in front of yours, slightly warped through the glass. He stared for a moment too long before you hurriedly freed yourself, dusted off your apron and smoothed any frizzy baby hairs you knew would probably be sticking up. He was impeccably dressed in a white shirt with a button up vest that was almost gold in colour, shimmering in the afternoon sun. From the looks of his attire he surely came from money. As his head turned to the side you noted he had a lovely profile and the rest of his facial features were mostly symmetrical. Lucky bastard, you knew many people who would kill for the natural beauty he so effortlessly possessed, the type of beauty that simply couldn’t be bought. However, the small signs of weariness did not escape you as his eyes took in your little shop. Finally, they landed on you and strangely you felt the need to squirm.

“Good evening, sir,” you greeted politely, wondering if he would be entitled like most of the good looking, rich folk.

He stepped up to the counter. “I hope I’m not keeping you, am I? If it’s too late, that's alright. Though it would be a shame, I’ve been told very good things about this place and I’m exhausted.” His jacket was slung over one arm, hair wind ruffled and a pair of thin wire glasses balanced upon his well-set central nose. It wasn’t unusual for wealthy people to pass through this coastal town on their travels, though they rarely came this late to the bakery. 

“No no, I’m not one to turn away a valued customer, what can I get for you?”

“Coffee please, I’m dead on my feet and I need to stay awake for a little longer.”

You nodded, well practiced hands already beginning to brew his drink. “Long journey? I take it you’re not from around here, and we do get a lot of travellers.”

“Very observant, Miss. I’ve just arrived to manage the large branch of my father’s shipping company that’s located in this coastal town. I was told it had very pretty scenery, but nobody told me it also has very pretty bakers here.” He remarked with a sly grin and you almost lost your grip on the coffee cup at his brazen compliment. He chuckled softly at your lack of response, not wanting to make you too flustered. “May I sit?”

“O-Oh, yes. Of course,” you stammered, kicking yourself for your stuttering. You were normally a fairly confident girl, yet all it takes is one handsome stranger to reduce you to this? Get a grip. He bowed softly in thanks, before turning and draping his jacket over the back of one of the chairs. You found your line of sight wandering down his back to the behind of his well tailored suit pants. The ladies in the town are going to eat him alive in the morning, he’ll soon forget about you and this little place. Yet, you found yourself slipping a small vanilla slice onto the plate beside his cup as a little welcome gift, adamant that you weren’t trying to impress him.

“Thank you,” he said, sounding more than a little tired. Incapable of thinking up a coherent response you bow quickly, spotting the fingerprints all over the glass of the display cabinet and set to work cleaning them. A soft groan makes you whip your head back around to look at him, did he get hurt? What if you made his coffee too hot and he burned himself or his tongue? His face was scrunched up almost as if he was in pain and he licked his lips a few times, seeing them moisten from his tongue caused you to swallow hard.

“Oh wow - this, is this vanilla?” He suddenly asked, and your eyes widened,  he seemed more alert and staring at you now that his cup was empty. “I’m more of a dark chocolate person but my my, this is delectable. Normally I don’t drink coffee, but given how exhausted I was it was welcomed. The sweetness of the vanilla balanced it out perfectly, thank you. How much is it?”

“Oh no! The slice is on the house, consider it a little welcome to town gift,” you insisted.

His sweet expression faltered and he tutted, standing slowly and gathering his things. “If you aren’t going to tell me then I suppose this will have to do,” he sighed, pulling out a note far too large for the price of any of the little pastries in your shop from his wallet.  You gasped and went to grab it and give it back to him, but he snatched it away before his other hand captured yours and the money was pressed into your palm along with...something else? Before you could think of what it might be, he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back.“It was lovely to meet you, Miss...?”

“Oh, um. Y/N.” 

“Y/N...what a beautiful name.” With that he left the bakery, disappearing into the dust pink evening, the little bell attached to the door softly jingling. You realised your hands were trembling from the press of his petal-soft lips, and when you opened your palm to look at the money there was also a small white flower. A gardenia? Where did he get that from?You hadn’t seen any around town.

You picked up the slightly dried-out flower from a few days ago, twirling it in your fingers and smiling when you could smell it still held a strong aroma. The fresh one from this afternoon was still in your apron pocket, and you fished it out from the washing basket gently, trying not to damage the petals. An idea popped into your head for scent bags, and you jumped up to rummage through your shop supplies for a brown paper gift bag. 

It hung in your wardrobe nicely, and would make your clothes smell lovely. He’d only given you two, but maybe he was going to bring one every time? Where were they even coming from? He- you stopped your little tangent of thoughts, cursing yourself for getting so hopeful. Surely he pulled that trick with every young woman he met. You weren’t going to lie, the second time he left you a flower you got your hopes up. But the amount of women who walked about the town with a flower in their delicate gloved hand gave you your doubts.

As a distraction  you threw yourself into your work, finalising the ingredient lists, accounts, designs and much more for the wedding cake and patisseries. Your mood was lifted somewhat, after all, that was your passion. Many days as a child you had helped your grandmother in her little kitchen. You reminisced back to the days where she taught you the secret recipe for her pumpkin scones, now one of your bestsellers.

Some time later you decided enough was enough, as your eyes grew heavier and increasingly difficult to keep open. The rest of your work could wait until tomorrow and you gladly flopped down on your awaiting bed, resting your stinging eyes for five minutes. The lamp on your bedside table casted a soft glow about the room, and you didn’t remember drifting off to sleep.

Soft chirping met your ears, muffled on one side where your face snuggled into the pillow. You groaned when something wet and feather light brushed against your cheek a few times. A louder, more piercing meow made you crack your eyes open to meet large green ones, a rumbling purr starting.

“Morning, Jiji.”

Your limbs were stiff and aching, you almost thought they might creak like the old wood of your floorboards if you were to stretch a little too hard. A huff of discomfort left your lips, annoyed at yourself for nodding off so easily without washing or even brushing your teeth. As you rose from the double bed in your small yet comfortable upstairs flat, your muscles protested but you gripped the ensuite bench for support, working hunched over your coffee table for long periods of time never ended well. However, it’s where you seemed most focused. Wincing when you took in your unruly hair and puffy under eyes in the mirror. Nonetheless, it was nothing a warm shower couldn’t fix.  

The steaming hot water ran over your shoulders and felt like heaven, relaxing the tension and chasing away that early morning chill that was only just leaving as spring fully came around.You lathered a generous amount of shampoo and your favourite sweet smelling conditioner which you only used for special occasions, such as if you were going to bump into a certain special someone today. 

Loud meows came from outside your bathroom, only increasing in volume as you cracked the door open, still toweling off your damp locks. “Okay okay, at least let me get dressed first. Stop acting like you’re going to starve, I actually think you’re getting a bit fat Jiji,” you mused as you finished pulling the dress over your head. Your eager feline bounded into the kitchen, and you went to follow only to jump in fright as you entered the living room. 

Curled up on the couch that was a little too short for him was a fast asleep Jungkook, looking so peaceful with his cheek squished against one of your too hard decorative pillows. Jiji trotted over to the couch, jumping up without a care in the world and sniffed at his face. Jungkook’s nose wrinkled at the wet ticklish sensation, cracking his eyes open and moving to sit up. When he spotted you looking at him through half asleep eyes, he froze. You quickly thanked the heavens you hadn’t walked into your living room without any clothes on as you sometimes do. 

“Did your bicycle chain snap again, Kook?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, the hair on one side of his head sticking up, not looking you in the eye as he nodded sheepishly. You sighed, this was the third time now and you were becoming angry with the repairs shop. “That’s it, I’m buying you a new one or something, anything would be better. I know you’re attached to that thing but it’s so old now. I just don’t want you getting stranded,” you fussed softly, pinching his chin and making him look at you. “Now go wash up while I make us some breakfast. There’s some clean clothes of yours in the laundry that you never took home, you can change into those.”

“Thank you noona, really.” He beamed, pulling you in for a warm hug that instantly had you melting into his embrace. Your hand found its way into the back of his long dark brown locks, scratching his scalp softly drawing a shiver from his large frame. Unconsciously his arms tightened around you and you let out a soft noise, causing Jungkook to release you instantly. He murmured a soft apology, scrambling downstairs to the laundry. You laughed to yourself at how funny he could be sometimes, blissfully unaware at the fact that he was running away so you wouldn’t spot the rapidly growing tent in his pants. 

A short while later he emerged from your bathroom, still shivering slightly from the cold water but he was feeling extra refreshed. The appetizing smell of whatever you were cooking wafted into his nostrils and he plopped down at the kitchen table while toweling off his wet hair. His eyes followed your figure as you moved about the kitchen, and the domesticity of it all made his heart flutter. How he wished things would be like this every morning. 

He knew he was staring again, openly admiring your side profile and his eyes couldn’t help the way they trailed further down. You had a little stomach from all the sweet things you sampled, and Jungkook sometimes couldn’t help the way he stared at your hands smoothing over your apron. His mind wandered until he was imagining how beautiful you’d look pregnant with his baby. His cock twitched in his trousers at the mental image of your belly swollen as you squirmed naked on soft white sheets, whining softly for him to fill y-

“...Kook?  Jungkook!” You yelled out, waving a wooden spoon in his direction and his jaw snapped shut and he sat up straighter. “There you are, you sure do zone out a lot, don’t you? For the third time, can you set the table please?” He stood up a little too quick almost causing the chair to topple over, and you laughed softly. He was an odd one alright. “Must be interesting things you’re daydreaming about,” you mused while serving the eggs onto the plates, and it was a good thing your back was turned or you might have seen the way Jungkook almost dropped the cutlery all over the floor.

Later that day you were busy finishing up with another customer, carefully placing the cakes you had finished icing this morning into her basket.

“Fourteen gold pieces, please. I hope the party goes well, I can’t believe he’s seven already,” you remarked as you placed the coins into the blue register. The two of you gushed over her adorable son, who peeked at you over the top of the counter, and you quietly slipped him a small cookie while his mother wasn’t looking. He shyly thanked you, and you were so enraptured in his chubby little cheeks that you didn’t notice the way all conversations around the bakery fell silent for a moment. The little bell on the door rung, signifying someone had entered and you noticed the movement in the corner of your eye but ignored it in favour of waving goodbye to the little boy. He waved cheerfully in return, a small bite already taken from the biscuit, his other hand clasped in his mother’s and you sighed. Children were something you’d wanted for a while, but you tried not to dwell on it as you wiped away the crumbs left on the counter.

After a moment you grabbed your notepad from the pocket of your apron, rounding the counter and making your way to the table where the new patron had seated themselves moments ago. However, you stopped abruptly when you recognised him as the man who had left you the flower not long ago. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his profile. He settled into his chair, leaning back and hooked an ankle over his knee so his legs were comfortably crossed, and the movement accentuated the slight bulge of his crotch. 

He placed a book on his lap and flicked through the pages, his hand coming up to adjust the thin wire spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose which had slipped a little, and from where you were standing you could see he had a little freckle on the tip. What was it with handsome men and having a cute little freckle? Jungkook had one under his lip which he often grumbled about being there, but you often told him it was rather endearing.

His tongue darted out to wet the tip of his finger and he smoothly flipped the page, the movement definitely drew your eye. Fuck, even his hands were beautiful, now you were nervous and your feet seemingly glued on the spot. The tip of your pen tapped against your little notepad, leaving small dots on the paper and you muttered angrily at your fidgeting. What were you so nervous for? He was just another customer, he never even told you his name. You took a tiny step forward, only to stop when you saw a young lady take a seat opposite him. 

Large doe-like eyes suddenly stopped in front of you, Jungkook’s mouth parted as he stared at you in confusion, that freckle now right in front of your eyes. “Noona? Are you okay?” He asked, a hint of concern evident in his tone. Your eyes dropped as you snapped out of your slight stuper, only to land on the swell of his bicep as he carried a tray filled with freshly baked bread. God, what was wrong with you? 

“Yeah of course! I just, um...realised something. Would you mind seeing if table four needs anything?” You risked a glance around Jungkook’s large frame, only to lock eyes with the man you’d just been staring at. The alluring chocolate colour of his eyes sent a jolt down your spine, and you jumped back behind your assistant. To make things less awkward you snatched the first thing that was in your sight as Jungkook moved away to place the tray down. You happened to grab the cloth you were just using thankfully, beginning to frantically wipe the side of the counter. God you were so stupid. Of course he was a complete flirt, he’d only been in town a few days and was already drawing in multiple women, yourself included, with his deceptive charm. 

You picked up a basket to wipe away at the crumbs underneath, but as you were putting it down a throat cleared beside you. The leather shoes that came into your view looked expensive, and your stomach dropped. As you lifted your gaze the curious expression on his face made you suck in a tiny breath, and unable to look away you dropped the basket back onto the counter. Unfortunately, it was too close to the edge and began tipping over, he surged forward suddenly to attempt to steady it behind you, effectively pinning you against the counter with his form. You gasped when suddenly his cologne bombarded your senses with warm, spicy cinnamon and...apples? The likely expensive scent made your knees feel weak, and the warmth of his arms pressed into your sides had your heart racing. His efforts were in vain, however, as the basket toppled to the ground, and small bread rolls scattered across the floor. 

The tip of his nose brushed against your scalp, and he hummed pleasantly. “Your hair smells lovely today, Miss (Y/N),” he observed, and you swear your heart was about to give out from how rapidly it was thundering in your chest. So he noticed.

“Oh, thank you Mr…”

“Taehyung. Mr. Kim if you please, but Taehyung will do just fine.” Even as he spoke ever so casually, he made no move to step back. 

His gaze dropped to your heaving chest as you were breathless from the proximity and palpable tension. Suddenly, it occurred to you that the neckline you had picked today was rather low cut, the fabric around your bust a little strained with each breath you took. 

You wanted to stay exactly where you were, quivering with excitement from being pressed right up against him. However, embarrassment got the better of you, a blush coming on strongly to your cheeks and you slipped out from the cage of his arms and kneeled to the ground. Thankfully, he couldn’t see your flushed state as you grabbed the pieces of scattered pastry. You felt unease rise within you when he crouched down beside you, dropping the bread back into the basket as well.

“Oh no, please don’t worry about that Mr. Kim. I can manage myself, besides this is my fault. Clumsy,” you scolded yourself quietly, shaking your head.

“No, it’s fine. I thought I might catch it but apparently my coordination is not as good as I thought,” he chuckled, silence filling the following moments as you continued to grab the bread. “You must keep pretty busy, huh? It’s a good thing you have your boyfriend to help you out.” 

Your eyes widened at his assumption. “Oh-no no, Jungkook’s not-he’s not my boyfriend. Just my assistant,” you explained, feeling your cheeks heat up again as you avoided his gaze once the two of you were standing, no longer crawling around the floor. The counter was covered in crumbs and flakes from the bread and suddenly you were very interested in picking at them. “I’m far too old to be his girlfriend anyway.” 

You couldn’t see the frown breaking out across Taehyung’s face, but as he opened his mouth to protest Jungkoook came striding over. “Noona, is everything okay? It’s not like you to drop good bread,” he questioned quietly, coming to stand just a little too close. The image of him acting like your guard dog came across your mind, hackles raised and ready to fight off any threats to his territory. You so wanted to be but you didn’t belong to either of them, they deserved much better. The young girl who was sitting with Taehyung only moments ago was looking over with concern at the tense atmosphere. Jungkook still stood uncomfortably close, silently challenging the man still standing in your personal space unabashedly.

“Yeah Kook, I’m good,” you replied, reaching out and gently patting his bicep. He looked at you suspiciously, not quite convinced but he nodded and slinked out the back anyway. Taehyung almost glared at Jungkook for another second before stepping back, however, he still stood quite close. Both of you hovered for a moment, you could sense he wanted to ask something. Not even a moment later, he did.

“The wedding this weekend, I was just wondering if you would be attending? Someone mentioned you were making the cake for it, among other pastries.”

“No,” you blurted out the obvious lie, all of a sudden taken aback by his question. Was he asking you out? The hairs on the back of your neck prickled as you sensed another pair of eyes on you, coming from his table.

“Oh,” he muttered, looking a little dejected. “So...you won’t be there? They’re friends of my family actually, so I’ll be in attendance.”

“No, sorry. I have another engagement, but Jungkook will be there!” You reiterated, not sure why you were lying to him. His expression soured momentarily, and another patron wandered up to the unattended counter. You were thankful for a way out and hurried away from the awkward conversation. He fidgeted with the brass button on his creaseless vest for a moment before slumping back into his seat. The nerve of that man! He had another girl with him, watching the whole thing unfold and he had the disrespect to practically ignore her. She certainly was beautiful, just like him. Definitely the type of woman that was more suited to him, rather than something so ordinary like you.

Jungkook came past just as you finished up with another customer, but you flagged him down before he could escape. “Oh Jungkook! I actually have a favour to ask of you…”

Stupid. That’s what you were. You sulked about the catering room, plating the little pastries for after the reception desert taking place soon. While you had an unmeasurable and intense focus when it came to your work, your passion, right now you couldn’t help but be on edge. The knowledge that Taehyung was around somewhere had your stomach churning with anxiousness at the thought of running into him, after blatantly telling him you wouldn’t be here.

At least, it wasn’t entirely a lie. You really thought you weren’t going to be here as Jungkook had eagerly agreed to be in your place right now. Part of you wanted to test what he wouldn’t do for you. However, when he came to tell you he’d actually been offered some photography work tonight you couldn’t help but notice the twinkle in his eye. That was something you couldn’t bear to take away from him. After you told him to accept the offer he halfheartedly protested, not wanting to disrupt your plans. But in truth you could tell he was disappointed he wouldn’t be able to go, and you weren’t having a bar of it.

So here you were, checking each iced flower on the tall wedding cake meticulously for any that had fallen off on the trip here. Every few seconds, however, you threw a glance over your shoulder for a certain Mr. Kim. 

“Y/N!” Someone behind you exclaimed, the voice definitely male and you froze, slowly turning to prolong the inevitable. When the groom’s face was the only one you could see your shoulders slumped in relief and returned his smile. “It’s...it’s beautiful, thank you so much. You’ve made my fiance very happy. Oops, wife I should say!” He quickly corrected himself, cheeks flushed red no doubt from the champagne, the glass he held fully and freshly bubbling.

“It’s certainly my pleasure. While I love baking itself there’s something so special in seeing where my goods go,” you observed, peeking out into the main hall where everyone sat about finishing the main course. “However, my work here is done I think.” 

Right as you finished speaking the bride wondered in looking for her now husband, the moment their eyes met a giddy smile broke out on both their faces. The action caused your heart to clench in your chest as she reached out and slotted her hand into his awaiting palm. He drew it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles and she looked away with a grin, suddenly noticing you standing there.

“Oh, Y/N! Are you leaving? Already? Won’t you stay for a drink?”

“I-um...maybe not.” You chewed on your lip. “I really must be going.”

“Just one drink, please?” She insisted, taking the glass from her husband and pushing it into your hand. When she pouted at you in such a way, it was hard to say otherwise.

Well... just one drink won’t hurt.

Two hours and definitely more than one glass of champagne later, you finally bade your farewell. A gust of chilly air rushed past you as you made your way outside, making you grip your arms where goosebumps were forming. God you wished you brought your jacket, how could you have forgotten? At least it was cooling down your cheeks which were flushed bright red and warm from the alcohol you’d had. There was no way you were driving home this evening, you’d have to call for a driver. Or perhaps you could walk as it wasn’t too far. Deciding the latter would be sufficient - and cheaper, not to mention - you set off in the direction of your bakery, weaving around the pedestrians on the footpath.

Other than the wind that picked up and drew a shiver from you, you began to think this wasn’t so bad - until your intoxicated form stumbled on an uneven paving stone. You hit someone square in the back, grabbing the back of their coat to steady yourself as you garbled a hundred apologies. By some miracle the man didn’t fall down and you thanked the heavens, only to take it back as he turned to look at your flustered face.

Low and behold, there stood the very man you were trying to avoid. Kim Taehyung.

“Miss (Y/L/N)? Well, what a pleasant surprise,” he said with a smirk, while embarrassment burned a hole right through you. “What brings you here?” Of course it was just your luck you’d bump into him - literally - right as you were almost out of there. He looked delectable as always, dressed head to toe in finely tailored clothing. His pants were pressed with a perfect crease down the middle of each leg, fine jacket fitting his broad shoulders perfectly. The hat he was wearing, however, captured your attention and you almost forgot he asked you something.

“Oh! I... um... well, you see, I-,” you managed to get out. Words! Use words you fool, you scolded yourself internally. Something about the man in front of you rendered you speechless, yet he only gave you a small smile and waited patiently for you to find your words, stepping back a bit and slipping his hands into his pockets. 

Still, your mind remained blank. The hilarity of the situation hit you and a giggle bubbled forth from your lips. You smacked your hand over your mouth, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth from the numerous glasses of champagne you’d downed. Taehyung looked at you with an endearingly curious expression, brows furrowing with a chuckle. 

“And what, pray tell, is so funny?” He asked quirking an eyebrow, the fact that you failed to answer him did not go unnoticed. You tried to speak but only more laughs came out until your shoulders were shaking with the action, tears welling in your eyes. 

“Your hat is very funny, why is it so strange? It’s lopsided, and flat. What’s this little thing on top?” You reached up to flick at it, not realising how close you had gotten until you softly bumped into his solid frame. 

“Woah, easy there (Y/N).” The words were whispered huskily right into your ear as he steadied you, and you found yourself trembling from his touch as you were caught off guard. “Wouldn't want you to trip and hurt yourself, now would we?”

“N-No, of course not,” you replied, flustered and he eyed you carefully. After a moment he released your arms to shuck off his jacket, and before you could blink it was dropped around your shoulders. The material felt expensive and warm and the delicious smell of his cologne filled your senses, the spicy scent of toasted cinnamon causing you to turn to putty.

“It’s cold tonight,” he observed, looking up to the cloudless sky. You followed his gaze, admiring all the bright stars twinkling in the twilight. This moment was something you wanted to treasure forever, where you stood thinking about nothing but now nice the sky looked and a beautiful man had offered you his jacket to keep you warm. Alas, it had to end eventually. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

His words brought you rushing back to reality, and you looked at him suddenly. “Oh, I was just going to walk but I can call for a driver it’s fine, rea-”

One stern look from him had you shrinking back into the jacket, he was not taking no for an answer and you nodded sheepishly. The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention as a cold shiver gripped your bones, only intensified by an icy gust of wind. His hand slid across your shoulders, pulling you into his warm side as he guided you in the direction of where he must be parked. 

Being the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger seat door for you, and once you were safely in he slipped into the driver's seat. There was a long stretch of comfortable silence as he started the ignition and smoothly pulled out onto the road, his hand not on the steering wheel resting dangerously close to your thigh.

“The hat, it’s called a beret. My younger sister bought it for me while she was studying in France, I should have introduced her the other day.”

“The... other day? Have I seen her before?”

“Yes, in the bakery when our little... accident happened,” he reminisced with a small chuckle, once again finding amusement in your embarrassment.

Suddenly it dawned on you, the young girl he was sitting with when he came over to talk to you. That was his little sister. You were glad he didn’t, seeming as though you’d just made an absolute fool out of yourself in front of her. No wonder she looked so beautiful, they came from the same pool of blessed genes. Silence filled the rest of the journey, and before you knew it the car was no longer moving, Taehyung was opening your door for you again and you stepped out.

The heavy material of his jacket slipped from your shoulders and you handed it back to him as another chilly gust swept past. He accepted it gratefully, putting it back on immediately and shoving his hands back into his pockets. Well, it was now or never you decided.

“Would you… like to come in for a drink?” You offered before you could psych yourself out.

“I don’t really…” he trailed off and immediately you feared you had been too bold.

“Oh. That’s fine, no trouble at all,” you murmured dejectedly. 

“I mean, I don’t drink alcohol. Not if I can help it, I don’t find the taste very pleasant. That and I don’t hold myself well. Some tea would be much appreciated, though,” he proposed.

“Yes… yes, of course. It would be nice to warm up a little.” Uncertainty hung in the air, looming over your head for a moment too long before he nodded. 

“That would be very nice, thank you.”

Your hands fumbled with the keys, loud jingling making you wince as you missed the lock a few times. At this point you’d sobered up quite quickly, the shake of your hand being caused by your nerves betraying you instead of the champagne. It had been quite a good hour since your last glass and you were no longer feeling the effects. Taehyung’s warm hand closed over yours, steadying your shaking fingers and your breath hitched as the metal key slid smoothly into the lock. It was relatively dark and you were glad only the faint light of the streetlamp guided you as you cracked the door open, trembling in anticipation of what was to come. The two of you slipped inside the dark bakery, shoulders brushing as you turned to shut the door and lock it behind you. 

“So… what do you fancy?” You asked, turning to look at his figure which looked all the more enticing half in the shadows. “A cup of tea? Some chocolate croissants, perhaps?”

He only shook his head slowly, taking a step toward you. “What do I fancy, you ask? Well...you.”

“M-me?” You asked, your insides doing a flip in excitement.

“Yes. You like croissants? I bet you’d love Paris, so many incredible pastry chefs there, among… other things.”

“Oh?” 

“It’s a very romantic place, I could take you one day? I’d like that… ” he trailed off and you blinked quickly, unable to look away from his gaze.

“Not just for the pastries?” 

“Not just for the pastries, petal.”

He backed you up against the now locked door, eyes piercing yours with an intensity that made your abdomen clench; however, there was something else in his eyes. Something softer, and you felt that sweetness in the way he ever so slowly pressed against you. The first brush of his lips against yours was not hurried and needy like you expected it to be, and when he pulled away you felt an ache in your heart so strong it left you breathless. 

“Taehyung…” you whispered, breaths beginning to grow heavier as your nerves dissipated to be replaced by lust and longing. He whispered your name back, before sweetly capturing your lips once more, his tongue demanding entrance to explore your mouth which you easily granted. Your fingers fisted in the lapels of his jacket, creases forming in the perfectly ironed material as the feeling of his tongue forcing yours into submission drew a moan from you. A large hand cupped the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself as he pressed you harder against the door, the kiss growing hungrier with each lave of the hot, wet muscle. You guided him back, shuffling blindly around, neither of you daring to interrupt your locked lips or even take a breath. Your back bumped into the counter and finally you broke apart for air, looking at your surroundings, somehow you’d ended up behind the bakery counter.

Taehyung’s hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush to him, and the action drew a gasp from you as you were pressed right up against his solid, throbbing length. The searing heat of it could be felt even through the layers of clothing that still separated your flesh, and your pelvic floor clenched around nothing in retaliation. Suddenly his hold on you tightened and he hoisted you smoothly onto the counter with very little effort. Now that you were at his level he wasted no time in getting right back into it.

“I wondered why it is that you haven’t been swooped up by anybody yet,” he mused between the breathless kisses you’d been enraptured in, fingers still gripping at your soft flesh through the thin material of your dress. 

“There are plenty of other-mmf, pretty and young women in this town, certainly more attractive than I am. Why me?” you whispered against his lips, still pinching yourself that this was really happening. God, it’s been so long since you’d been with a man. His kisses trailed down your jaw, the warmth of his lips pressing into your sensitive neck. 

“Hmm, I suppose,” he hummed, pausing to nibble on the spot just below your ear and you tipped your head back to allow him easier access. “They are very much like flowers, blossoming under the male attention they so desperately crave. They’re only pretty to look at, but that’s it. They might as well be just an accessory. Whereas you, sweet thing, are so much more.”

“B-But... I’m a bit older than you. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Not at all, I really don’t give a shit noona. If that’s something that really matters to people, then they’re shallow and can’t see past something that’s really not that significant.” He growled right into the shell of your ear, his nimble fingers finding the easiest way to remove your dress. You thanked the heavens that you normally close the blinds when you lock up, because Taehyung made quick work of stripping your clothes from your body.

You slid off the counter to kick off the garments that had pooled around your hips, throwing them away into an unknown corner of your shop. Goosebumps arose across your bare skin, and Taehyung’s seized the soft flesh of your hips, hand kneading and moulding, pulling you flush against his hardened cock. He was so warm, and he let out a strangled groan as you reached down to palm him over his trousers. At your coaxing, his cock only seemed to swell further, impossibly large now and he rocked in your hand for friction. The tug on his foreskin only made him moan more, and you were enjoying the way he let his guard down. His mouth found its way to your bare shoulder, sucking pink marks along your neck and collarbone so he quieted somewhat. 

You whimpered when his hands moved down to grab the globes of your ass, groping them and pulling the cheeks apart. Cool air hit your dripping centre and you whined louder, clenching around nothing again. Taehyung relinquished your neck to stand to his full height, smirking at your flushed and needy expression. His eyes trailed down to drink in your naked skin, but he was still fully clothed. Feeling a little exposed, you moved to cover up your bare body. After all, you had a sweet tooth and you did pack a few extra pounds as a result of that. Most of the time you didn’t care, however, in this moment you were particularly caught off guard and feeling a little self conscious. 

“Uh uh uh, I don’t think so sweetheart,” Taehyung purred, grabbing your hands that were snaking up your torso. “Don’t you dare hide yourself from me, not when you’re this beautiful.” He hoisted you back up onto the counter hastily, almost knocking over the jars of toppings and chocolate syrups you had left there. His hand snatched the glass bottle that almost fell, and he smirked like the cat that got the cream. “Caught it this time.”

Without warning he dropped the bottle on the bench and swooped down. His mouth closed over your nipple, hot and wet and you moaned at the feeling, hands coming up to bury themselves in his golden curls. Taehyung nipped and swirled his tongue around the peak with a growl that grew louder the harder you pulled on his hair, giving you no warning before switching over to the other one. Lithe fingers snaked up to pinch and twist your spit-slicked nipple, making you squirm underneath him. Now that both aching peaks were being lavished with attention you squirmed, no lover had ever spoiled you this much and it made you all the more eager to touch him too.

Your hands gripped at the lapels on his expensive jacket, uncaring if it would tear as you attempted to push it off his wide shoulders. He laughed softly against your chest as you whined, straightening up to slowly shuck the garment from himself, never taking his eyes off your heaving chest that was shiny from his ministrations. He peeled off his top half, tugging at his dress shirt until each button popped open slowly revealing smooth honey toned skin to your hungry eyes. Your fingertips reached out to smooth over his chest, bringing little goosebumps to the surface. He had such a lovely body, his pecs firm and full, yet the most delicate and defined collarbones you’d seen on a man. Taehyung’s shoulders were broad with a thick, vascular neck you just wanted to sink your teeth into, and to top it all off his jawline was chiseled like a work of art. Your palms trailed higher and you sat up so you could run them over the expanse of his shoulders and upper back. He shuddered at your ever so gentle touch; fingernails raking featherlight down his back, drawing a soft moan from his lips which you swallowed with your own. You dragged your nails over his hips and dipped the tip of your finger into his navel. He flinched at the action, his stomach clenching away. When you ran your palms over his abdomen he broke the kiss abruptly, turning his face to the side. He didn’t have the most defined stomach, yet you didn’t mind one bit.

“Taehyung, you don’t have anything to be ashamed of either,” you pressed a kiss into his jawline. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” you whispered into his skin. Except for Jungkook something in the back of your mind quipped back and a small sense of guilt arose within you. You knew he felt jealous of your interest in Taehyung, but that was something that could be dealt with another time.

The man standing in front of you turned back and pressed his lips to yours again, groaning when your hand slipped past the waistband of his underwear to grip his bare length. It throbbed as you gave it a few experimental strokes, satisfied at the way he let out an animalistic groan. His hand suddenly gripped your thigh, and he smothered you with his form until you had to let go of his length and lay back. His fingertips were likely leaving indents in your flesh but you didn’t care, not when he was so close to where you desired him most. “Please,” you whimpered breathlessly. His fingers parted your thighs, swearing softly when he touched your folds to instantly have his fingertips coated in your arousal. He paused, lifting them up to inspect them unabashed, drawing his fingers apart to look at the strings of slick. 

“Fuck. You want me that badly, huh? Such a good girl, so wet and eager for me.” His words made you clench, and he definitely felt it as he lightly ran his fingers through your soaked folds, admiring the way they glistened. Taehyung easily sunk two fingers knuckle deep into your heat, crooking them to seek out that sweet bundle of nerves. Needing to feel his lips on yours again you whined while leaning forward, begging him with your eyes. Quickly he obligated, ever the attentive lover. 

After a while your clit was throbbing, crying for his attention. He reached over into one of the jars next to the display cabinet, which you used to touch up any pastries that needed more powdered sugar. A generous amount gathered on the top of his thumb when he dipped it in, and before you could realise what he was doing that same thumb was planted firmly on your pearl of nerves. 

“Taehyung! Mmf, oh my god. That feels so good but you’re gonna give me a yeast infection, fuck.”

“Mmm, not if I lick you clean.” He swooped down, tongue lapping at the now gooey sugar that had somewhat dissolved with your wetness. He suckled at your juices, tongue swiping through your folds against his fingers that were still buried before he trailed up to your clit. His lips pulled the little bud into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth, the nibbling teeth causing your hips to jump at the stimulation. God, his tongue felt like heaven and sin all at once, never before had anyone made you feel this good. Certainly, you’d been missing out in all your previous experiences. His hand reached out, grabbing the bottle of chocolate syrup you’d left on the counter, and he looked over to see what other sweet concoction he’d found.

“Mmm, perfect. Open wide sweetheart,” he smirked. Confused, you opened your mouth slightly to which he found most amusing. His fingers withdrew and you whimpered in complaint before your knees were gripped firmly and pushed apart, spreading your legs wide open for him to see. He drizzled a little of the chocolate syrup onto your glistening folds, a few drops sinking into your entrance. The bottle was quickly dropped onto the counter and his tongue was quick to follow the droplets, shoving the appendage deep into your pussy to chase any of the chocolate before it got away from him. “Fucking hell,” he groaned against your cunt, voice muffled. “This is definitely the best thing I have ever tasted in my entire life. I feel like I could die right here.”

With each delve of his muscle you could feel your skin prickling with heat and anticipation or the climax that was beginning to build. Your neglected nub was once again attacked by lashes of his tongue as he pushed his fingers back in, now intent on watching you fall apart. “That’s it petal, good girl. Come for me, that’s it.”

Without mercy he suckled on your clit and your legs shook as that tension began to release, waves of pleasure spreading through your whole body. No noise came forth from your lips for a few seconds, however you quickly broke that silence and cried out loudly with each wave of your high, Taehyung’s fingers still thrusting to draw out your orgasm.

“Please,” you whimpered, looking up at him almost in tears.

“Please what? Use your words,” he growled, already pulling at his belt and letting his pants and underwear fall around his ankles. “What do you need, tell me sweetheart.”

“Need your cock. Please please Taehyung, I want it so bad.” His hand that was soaked with your juices reached down to fist his hardened length, a few drops of precum dripping onto your abdomen. He groaned loudly at the sight, at the way your eyes twinkled in want when you looked at his throbbing appendage. “I want… god I want to suck you off so bad, but I fucking need you. Now.” 

The thought of it had him swearing softly, imagining you on your knees before him. He almost came there at the thought of sinking his cock in between your pretty lips, feeling the back of your warm, wet throat constricting him like the perfect girl you were. However, you looked so beautiful spread out across the counter, he’d rather keep you right where you were. Besides, he was so worked up, he really didn’t need your first impression to be of him finishing too early. “Another time, my sweet. Right now I just really need to be inside you.”

To emphasise his point, the head of his cock ran through your glistening folds, the friction on your clit causing your legs to twitch in overstimulation.  “Kim Taehyung, if you don’t put your dick in me right n-oh!”

Your sentence turned into a gasp as the tip of his dick pushed at your entrance, and the first inch sunk in with a little resistance from how much your walls tried to clamp down, welcoming the intrusion. He bent down over the top of you, possessively capturing your lips with his as the rest of his length split your walls, sinking in to the hilt. It was like heaven, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered what being stretched by his girthy cock would feel like. As if he couldn’t be any more perfect, of course he had to be so well fucking endowed. It almost hurt how big he was, you noticed as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him. Almost. 

Moments passed where both of you simply panted heavily, his face buried into the crook of your neck. “One second, just give me one second or I swear I’m gonna cum. You feel like fucking heaven, noona.” You nodded, incapable of coherent words in that blissful moment. 

“Such beautiful tits,” he groaned as his mouth sucked marks across your collar bones, lips seeking out a peak to torment once more. “Tell me, sweet thing. Who’s tits are these?”

“Yours, Tae. Oh god, they’re all yours.” Came your breathy moan, the strands of his honeyed hair tickling your skin as he dragged his face over to the other nipple.

“Good girl,” he quipped. “What about this pussy, hm?” To emphasise his question he slowly pulled his length from where it was buried in your cunt, driving it back in with an even slower thrust that had you keening desperately at the delicious burn.

“Yours, yours! Just fuck me, please!” 

“Well, since you’re such a good girl who asked so nicely…” After a second he straightened up, hands gripping your hips tightly as he withdrew only to bury himself in your cunt again, hips smacking into the flesh of your ass from the force of his thrust. Once he could tell you had adjusted comfortably to his size he picked up the speed, beginning a much faster pace, the sound of skin slapping filling the otherwise quiet bakery. You threw your head back over the counter, the slight feeling of blood rushing to your head making the sensations of Taehyung’s cock all the more intense. 

Neither of you heard the key opening the door, nor saw the figure that froze in the entry, unable to see anything from outside due to the drawn curtains. Jungkook's eyes were wide much like a deer caught in the headlights, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin. Your heaving breasts looked deliciously perky with the way your head was thrown over the counter, noises he’d only ever dreamed of hearing spilling forth from your parted lips. His shocked expression soured, however, when he realised it was Taehyung standing between your spread legs, his cock plunging into your centre and making your face twist in ecstasy. You hadn’t realised he was there yet, eyes closed and still making little mewls with each of Taehyung’s thrusts, now deep and slow, almost teasing you. The elder looked up and simply smirked once their eyes locked, just who he’d been hoping for. Taehyung was the obvious alpha male, and he could see the way Jungkook’s pants were already straining.

“Mmm, harder... please,” you cried out, ankles locking around Taehyung’s waist so he couldn’t stop what he was doing.

“You want me to fuck you harder, noona? You know ever since the first time I saw you, I’ve fantasized about taking you nice and hard over this quaint little countertop. Have you, noona? Or perhaps you’d been too busy fantasizing about your little assistant, hm? You’d love to have him fuck you like this you dirty girl, isn’t that right? Answer me, or I’ll stop.” He teased, voice becoming a little strained with heavy breaths. His eyes were still locked on Jungkook, mocking the astounded boy.

“Oh god, yes. Fuck yes I’d love to have Kookie fuck his noona like this, oh fu-I think I’m gonna come again Tae.”

“Already? Are you gonna come thinking about Kookie?”

“Yes, hng-ughh Tae, and you! Gonna come, o-oh, because of you!” You cried, each syllable growing in volume the closer you grew to your orgasm.

“Go on noona, show me how much you love my cock,” he permitted, thumb coming back to your clit to pinch and rub the bundle of nerves, pushing you toward your climax. Right as you began to peak, he hooked your legs over his shoulders and began furiously pounding into you. The new angle and pace had you hurtling into a powerful, leg shaking orgasm which made Taehyung curse. You looked so beautiful, and you had a little audience for him to show off to. You were screaming so perfectly, perhaps you secretly knew Jungkook was watching the whole exchange. 

When you came down from your high, panting and swearing softly he pressed a kiss to the inside of your leg. “You’re so pretty when you come, my lovely. Don’t you think so, Jungkook?”

Your eyes flew open to see an upside down, very shocked Jungkook. The two of you were at a standstill for a moment, before you quickly tried to sit up and cover yourself. Taehyung’s hand was gently pushing you to lie back down, he suddenly leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Noona, (Y/N) darling. Don’t you want sweet little Kookie to join us? You want to suck him off while I fuck you nicely, hmm?” His words sounded so sweet, and you clenched around him at the very thought. He chuckled, that was just about all the confirmation he needed. However, he waited until you nodded, not going ahead without your clear consent. 

When Jungkook saw you nod, he was in complete disbelief. You wanted him? His length throbbed painfully in the confines of his pants, feeling so tight it might almost rip through the fabric. Despite being upside down, you could still clearly see the outline of the colossal bulge.

“Come here,” Taehyung barked, tutting in annoyance when the younger man still seemed to be rooted to the spot, too stunned to move. “Jeon, I suggest you move your ass if you want your dick sucked.” At his words Jungkook snapped out of his stupor, eagerly striding over to stand above you. 

The younger man was impatiently undoing the buttons on his pants, pulling them down and grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking it over his head, forgoing the buttons altogether. His length sprung forth, already looking angrily red and leaking copious amounts of precum. 

The temptation to taste him was too strong, and you stretched your neck to run your tongue along his dripping cock, pressing sloppy kisses, all the while looking up at him with innocent yet sultry eyes. He swore softly at the sight, pulling back to allow your lips to envelop the head of his cock, tongue swirling around his slit to gather the salty drops which kept leaking. He whimpered loudly, finally knowing what it felt like to sink his cock between his noona’s lips. You relaxed your gag reflex, eyes raking up his body. He was definitely a sight to behold, a sheen of sweat already glazing his glorious chest, making his abs - seriously, how did this boy have them - even more drool worthy. Although you were already drooling. 

His eyes were glued to your mouth, and the way it easily took his cock with each gentle thrust, he was careful not to make you gag. Although, you had other ideas. Your hands sneaked up, gripping the flesh of his bare behind as you relaxed your throat, feeling his hips jerk as he slid in the rest of the way and bottomed out. He groaned, whole body shuddering in pleasure, unable to stop his hips from jerking forward to chase the euphoria he found between your lips. The rather hard thrust had you choking a little, eyes tearing up but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Jungkook was being so vocal, moaning and cursing so much you were sure anyone outside could hear. When you gagged again, inhaling deeply through your nose he pulled back, giving you a small reprieve and letting you breathe through your mouth. It was at the moment the man standing between your legs, who had been enjoying the show decided it was time to remind you of his presence. 

You cried out sharply when Taehyung’s throbbing length buried itself into your sopping heat once again, the movement jolting you and causing Jungkook’s cock to sink back into your throat. He began to swear as both men thrust into you, using your body to get themselves off. Hungrily, like he thought he might never get the opportunity to witness this again, Jungkook’s eyes raked over your soft body. The way your breasts bounced with every thrust, nipples stiff and slick from his elder’s mouth. Then your wonderful thighs, rippling each time Taehyung drove his hips into them. Jungkook always knew you would have such a beautifully soft body, he just wanted to knead you with his hands and run his tongue over every inch, every curve you had. There was so much slick shining on the inside of your thighs, loud squelch noises from each time Tae’s cock pushed into you. He wasn’t going to last much longer, not with the way moaned and swirled your tongue around his length.

After a few minutes Taehyung could feel how you were clamping down on his cock again as it dragged against your sweet spot with each thrust, you were getting close once more. His own pleasure twisted sharply in his abdomen, tightening dangerously quickly. The pad of his thumb pressed down on your clit once more, rubbing furious circles to get you to finish before he did. “One more, I want you to come one more time for me, noona. For us.” 

Your climax came to a peak and you squealed, Jungkook’s length popping out of your mouth to make way for the wails of pleasure as your legs shook. You reached out to pump him in your hand, and the sound of your moans as you came was all it took for Jungkook to swear and suddenly he was coming too. You took him back in your mouth quickly, grabbing his hips and pulling him so his cum spurted to the back of your throat.

“Fuck! Oh my-oh fucking hell noona, oh,” he all but yelled, whole body trembling as he climaxed.

Suddenly Taehyung could hold on no longer either, he stilled and you moaned louder as warmth flooded deep inside you as he came, your pussy clenching unconsciously at how good it all felt. Jungkook whined in overstimulation when he pulled out, but your  lips drew the top of his cock back into your mouth to suckle at the remains of his salty release, the sensation of your tongue lapping against his frenulum almost too much for him.

He pulled out, your tongue licking your lips to collect any remains as you bathed in post orgasm bliss. Taehyung’s cock softened, slipping out of your swollen pussy as the three of you panted, catching your breath. 

Jungkook leaned on the bench, looming over you and he flashed a hopeful smile. The same that made your heart flutter so innocently each morning, the slightest glimmer of potential for something more between you two. However,  you’d just sucked him off while another man fucked you. 

Now that the hazy headspace had cleared, embarrassment came forth unbridled and you couldn’t stand to be around a moment longer. You slipped off the counter, wobbly legs barely able to support you as you hastily picked up your clothes. It seems that Taehyung had the same idea as he was quickly dressed, buttoning up his shirt and snatching his jacket up off the floor.

“Well…” he began with, looking between the three of you. “Looks like you two have something to talk about. I’d best be going, see you around.” With that, he was out the door. Gone. It brought your memory back to the first time you’d met him, watching him walk out of the door. Things had been so much more simple then, when you weren’t sleeping with two men at once. You didn’t waste another second dwelling in the awkward tension between you and Jungkook as you rushed upstairs without another word.

The next three weeks were awkward to say the least. Conversation was somewhat scarce between both yourself and your assistant, and you feared you’d forever ruined your relationship with him. Jungkook was barely conversing with you, and whenever it was necessary he gave one word answers at best. 

It was now that you realised he always used to say things such as let me do it, or I made extra of your favourite. It was in the small things, the everyday gestures that your feelings began to steadily blossom, nothing like the grand and unrealistic romance you so desired. Now Jungkook felt so far away, perhaps he despised you now. All because you had to be stupid and greedy, turning a blind eye to the blessing that was right in front of you all along and pursuing someone you have convinced you were good enough for. 

Since that night, Taehyung had not been back to the bakery.

In fact, you had not heard from him at all. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t shed a tear or two over it, after how sweet he’d been in the beginning. The larger part of your conscience, the more irrational part urged you to wait around like a stupid damsel in distress. Hoping that maybe he would walk back in through that door with the little jingle of the bell and make you smile like the idiot you were, pretending nothing had ever gone wrong.  But the more rational part wanted to beat that other part to a pulp, it was far more likely that he had been sweet, like honey for one reason. To lure you in like the silly little fly you were, walking right into his web. How many other girls had he been with in three weeks? Was that really his sister, or did he just tell that to women he’s luring in to make them let their guard down? Just like you had. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping, it was a perfect day, but strangely a little warm. Beads of sweat rolled down your temple, and you wiped them away with the back of your arm as your hands were covered in flour and dough. God, it was unusually warm this morning.

You turned around from your workstation, looking for your rolling pin on one of the other benches. Incidentally your eyes met Jungkook’s and his gaze darted away abruptly, pretending to also look for something. Guilt gnawed at you, knowing that you had caused his embarrassment. After all, you confessed you wanted him in the way he wanted you and then proceeded to mope after Taehyung, not looking at him twice. 

You took your anger out on the innocent dough, squashing it angrily between your fingers absent mindedly. You kept muttering see you around in a mocking tone before realizing it was now over kneaded. Great, now you had a suitor on the run, an assistant that was giving you the silent treatment, and your bread would be flat and overly tough. At least your favourite apricot jam would make it taste better, and you couldn’t help craving another serving you mused as you cleaned the sticky dough from your hands.

The delicious smell of the fresh bread wafted from the racks where they rested, and you sought out a tray that had mostly cooled. When you pulled it out, resting the heavy tray on your chest as you normally did, you yelped and dropped it on the bench with a loud bang. The apple that Jungkook had been about to chop skidded across the floor as he dropped it and rushed over to you.

“Noona! Are you alright?! What happened?!” 

You gritted your teeth and breathed in through your nose, wincing at how unusually sore your breasts were. Jungkook reached for your cheek, and his hands in your face smelled strongly of apple juice, almost burning your nostrils with its potency. Sudden nausea gripped at your stomach, twisting your insides and making you feel queasy. You pushed past Jungkook and sprinted up the stairs, hearing Jungkook’s heavy footsteps right behind you. You barely reached the bathroom before you fell to your knees, heaving over the toilet bowl to empty your stomach.

“(Y/N)!” A distressed Jungkook cried out from the doorway before crouching down, hands still incredibly gentle as they reached to sweep your hair out of the way. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?!” An answer didn’t make it past your lips however, only more of your breakfast. Jungkook was audibly panicked, but still rubbed comforting circles on your back as you continued to throw up. “That’s it, get it all out,” he murmured.

Your mouth tasted foul and as soon as you stood up you were reaching for your toothbrush. He was glued to your side, picking up a cloth to wipe away at the vomit that was on your chin, still asking a million questions. Embarrassed, you waved him away even though the tender action made your heart squeeze. So he still cared? “I’m fine Kook, I just don’t know why I’m throwing up all of a sudden, I didn’t eat anything that was off…”

He was still insistent on fussing, telling you to go to the doctor if you couldn’t explain your sudden illness. You wondered back into the bedroom, wracking your brain for any inclination as to why it might me, thinking of your symptoms. Your gaze landed on your little clock on your dresser which displayed the date, eyes widening when things began clicking into place. Your period was also a week late, you had sore breasts and morning sickness. You slapped a hand over your mouth muffling the distressed whine that left your lips, words not coming to you at the moment from the shock.

You were pregnant. 

Jungkook tentatively touched your shoulder making both of you flinch as the initial shock wore off, and the harsh reality of it came crashing over you. Your eyes flickered to Jungkook’s wide ones, concern evident at the tears brimming in your eyes. “Noona? (Y/N)? What’s wrong? Why... Why are you crying?” God, he was so innocent sometimes, of course he hadn’t caught on yet. 

“K-Kook,” you all but whimpered, voice breaking from the way your throat constricted in an attempt to hold back the sobs. “I-... I think I’m pregnant,” came your confession, barely audible, but Jungkook’s ears picked it up well enough. You could barely look him in the eyes, your own watery with tears and you sounded so defeated.

He crushed you to his chest, his arms enveloping your frame in a warm hug, and you never wanted him to let you go. The sobs came forth unbridled now and you buried your face into the crook of his neck, drenching his shirt with your tears. 

“Is it really such a bad thing?” He whispered to you between shushes. “Noona, you know I’ll always stick by you, right? No matter what. I’ll be here even if that bastard isn’t,” he murmured and you trembled all the more from his sweet words.

You pulled back so you could look him in the eye, offering a weak and watery smile. “Oh Jungkook, I really don’t deserve you.”

“Nonsense,” he chastised quickly, a warm thumb coming up to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks. “I really like you noona, like a lot.” 

“I do too, Kookie. God, I’m so sorry,” you chuckled, pinching his dimple softly before burying your hand in your apron for a handkerchief. “I just thought, you know...you’d want to be with someone a bit closer to your a-”

Your words were cut off when Jungkook covered your mouth and nose with his own handkerchief, wiping away the snot and you had no doubt you looked a complete mess. Blubbering away and confessing your feelings to a younger man, knocked up by another.

“I don’t want to hear that, ever again. Okay? Besides I’ve been fantasizing about calling you my girlfriend for as long as I’ve been working for you. Do you have any idea how happy I am right now? I don’t care about not being the father of this child, as long as I have you by my side I know I can do anything.” He pecked your lips suddenly, prompting a brighter smile from you which warmed his heart to see you no longer upset about everything. You snaked your arm around the top of his shoulders, grinning as he brought your lips back together. You melted into his arms as you deepened the kiss, but he flinched back a bit.

“What? What’s wrong? Did I do someth-”

“No, nothing’s wrong it’s just...your mouth kinda tastes like vomit still. Sorry.” The two of you burst into laughter, a bit of lightness in the otherwise serious situation. You moved back into the bathroom to begin scrubbing your teeth clean while Jungkook, unable to relinquish you from his hands as if you’d disappear if he let go, kept rubbing comforting circles on your hips. He looked deep in thought. “I’ll get a hold of Taehyung, I promise. While I know you probably despise him right now, I think he has a right to know about the baby.”

Silently you nodded, uncertainty and nervousness swirling deep within your stomach. Jungkook was right, you should tell Taehyung but what would his reaction be? Would he be angry? God, he seemed so nice, so genuine. Maybe it really was just some elaborate plan to seduce you, how many other women had fallen prey to his charms you wondered. Perhaps this was not the first time a woman had tracked him down after being knocked u-

“(Y/N)? It’s alright, just don’t dwell on it okay?” His hands trailed up to rub your shoulders, drawing a long sigh from you. “We’ll make an appointment with the doctor first, yeah? Just to be sure. I’ll even come with you.” 

You turned and buried your face into the crook of his neck again, so over the moon to have such support. You don’t know what you did to deserve this, to deserve him. 

“Do you think people would mind if we opened… a bit late today?” You asked him, fingers creeping up his chest to play with his collar as you looked at him suggestively.

He wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders, giving you a soft squeeze. You whined at the action, causing your tender breasts to ache. In retaliation you reached down and groped the firm flesh of his behind. Instantly he bucked forward, seeking friction and pushing his quickly hardening length into your abdomen. 

“You mean..” he gaped, beaming down at you with an expression so endearing and so excited it made you giddy. Firm hands found his chest, and you guided him back out of the bathroom and pushed him onto the bed, immediately tugging at the buttons on his work pants. His swollen cock sprung out immediately, already rock hard and dripping precum, so eager to finally bury itself in you completely.

He helped you to yank his trousers down quickly, shoes and all getting kicked off in a hurry. You swore you could hear his shirt tearing a little as he ripped it over his head, his hair becoming messed up in his haste Jungkook yanked you into his reach so he could strip you, much like a child at Christmas, uncaring about the poor wrapping paper and eager to get to his present. Fighting him would be useless with the way your eyes drank in his impressive physique.

Once you were completely bare you grabbed his shoulders, clambering on top of him and reaching between the two of you to grab his dick, running the leaking tip through your damp folds. As you sunk down a few inches you had to stop, the stretch from just how fat his cock was leaving you breathless for a moment. Tiny rocks up and down allowed your walls to adjust before you took a breath and bottomed out, Jungkook threw his head back, exposing his deliciously thick neck to your hungry eyes. The urge to mark it was far too strong, and you didn’t hesitate to bend forward to suckle on the skin, little red and purple marks blossoming. 

You immediately got to work grinding your hips back and forth, only seeming to drive Jungkook even crazier. After a few minutes he pushed you to sit back up, the need to see your body again too much yet he couldn’t decide where to look. Your breasts swayed in his face with every rock of your body and it was so hard for him to resist bucking his hips upwards. The sight of your pussy lips swallowing every inch of his throbbing cock again and again was truly something to behold, and it felt a thousand times better. Or your beautiful face, contorted in the most blissful expressions, consumed by the pleasure. At a particularly loud moan you let out he thrusted up, grunting at the feeling of you clenching around him. 

Jungkook seized your hips, planting his feet on the bed and began pounding his thick length into you without mercy. Caught off guard, you collapsed onto your hands at the sharp spike of pleasure in your belly, your cries muffled as you buried your face into Jungkook’s damp neck. He too smelled heavenly when you were this close, his natural woody musk overloading your senses with each sharp inhale of breath.

He sat up so you were face to face, the position rather intimate, but was quickly bending down to draw one of your nipples into his mouth, nipping softly. “Ah! Be g-gentle, please Kookie. They’re so sensitive right no-ow.”

“Mmm. Can’t wait ‘til they’re all heavy and swollen with milk, I bet you’d taste so sweet noona.” He practically growled, suddenly possessive at the thought.

“Kook! Oh my-oh god, harder. Please please harder baby. You gonna fuck your noona nice and hard?” You begged, running your fingers through the dark, curly locks on his head. Quickly he gripped your waist tighter and flipped you onto your back in an impressive show of strength, quick to re-acquaint you with the delicious stretch as his cock buried itself back inside you and resumed a brutal pace. He was a rather energetic lover it seemed.

“You feel so good noona, oh my god! Fuck I-I’m not gonna last much longer, not when I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Ugh, it’s okay baby. I’m mfph almost th-there, oh!”

Your arms anchored themselves on his broad shoulders as you jolted from the force of his thrusts, one hand snaking up to thread into the dark hair at the nape of his neck and he whined louder between laboured breaths. Right as he let out a long high pitched moan you felt his whole body tremble, warmth gushing deep in your abdomen as he came. However, Jungkook was ever the soldier and continued on slamming his hips into yours and you finally tipped over the edge. Your walls clenched and fluttered, eyes rolling back into your head. Yet he still continued even as you felt the sticky mess of his cum getting pushed deeper with each thrust, more still filling you. The sounds you were making must have been bothering the neighbours, slapping skin and cries of ecstasy. But neither of you could help it because it had felt like heaven. God, why hadn’t you done this earlier?

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided he dropped onto his forearms, cock going limp and slipping out of your abused pussy. 

“Noona.” His chest heaved with his efforts but he couldn’t resist nuzzling into the crook of your now sweaty neck, and your heart clenched with the affection. “That was amazing, so much better than I ever could have imagined. Well...have been imagining.”

“Jungkook, baby,” you breathed, panting heavily. “I’d love to stay like this forever but I’m gonna dirty the sheets, can you grab me a washcloth from the bathroom please?”

He pecked your cheek and sprung up immediately, kicking off his pants that still clung to one leg so they wouldn’t trip him and headed toward the bathroom. Your eyes dropped to his bare behind and you all but drooled, it truly looked so much better without his pants obscuring the view.

“Or,” you began and he paused, turning back to you as you flipped on your side, attempting to strike a seductive pose. Rather it seemed he was the seductor, unknowingly posed like a Roman statue, his body half twisted in a way that accentuated all his best features while gravity accentuated your worst. However, his eyes raked over your figure, insatiable. “How about we just take a shower together? Save some water, hmm-oh Jungkook!” You squealed as he easily hoisted you up bridal style, pecking your lips. 

“I think that sounds like a very good idea, shall we?” He asked, carrying you in the direction of the bathroom already sporting another semi.

Three weeks. You were three weeks pregnant, the life inside you so tiny yet had already become such a huge part of your life in just one day. Jungkook was still diligently stuck by your side, and earlier today he’d tried ringing Taehyung’s office to try and speak with him. However, he was told that the elder was not available. All that could be done was to leave a message with his secretary. 

You pondered what he might say as the two of you walked arm in arm on your way home from the doctor’s office late in the afternoon. Again, two parts of you rationed with one another. He did just start a new job, perhaps that would explain his absence for almost a month. 

Three days, the more rational part of you argued. It was a common rule you’d heard the women gush about over tea in your shop, that no suitor was too busy to contact you at some point in three days. If they didn’t then you simply weren’t a priority for them, not that it mattered anyway. You were loyal to Jungkook now, he was certainly a priority to you.

But there was something about Taehyung, the extent of his genuine nature was incredibly difficult to fabricate. It kept nagging at you in the back of your mind, to just wait, to give him the benefit of the doubt when he finally did come forward. Or maybe you were just being hormonal and making things up to comfort yourself. A distraction was what you needed.

You tipped your head back to breathe in the fresh air. The sky was dusted with a pretty pink and orange colour as the sun set, and you thought would make a nice picture.

“Oh, by the way. I never asked you about the job you got, taking photographs, did you have fun? It is what you came here for after all.” A heavy sigh followed from the man by your side, which definitely caught your attention. “Jungkook? What is it?”

“It was alright, I probably could have enjoyed it more. I just couldn’t help but feel really disappointed the whole time. I wanted to like it more but I just... couldn’t,” he trailed off with yet another deep sigh, his fourth this evening.

“What do you mean? Is it not what you want to do anymore?” You questioned, bringing your other hand to his arm to rub comforting circles. He shook his head, fumbling in his coat pocket for the keys and unlocking the door. 

“No, it’s not what I want anymore. As a hobby I think it’s okay, but I’ve completely fallen in love with working here, with baking,” he paused before pushing the door open, turning back to you. “But most importantly, (Y/N). I’ve fallen in love with you. My beautiful noona.” 

Your eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, Jungkook. I-”

“You don’t have to say it back right away. Take all the time you need, I’d wait for you forever.”

He began to head inside but you grabbed his arm firmly, and he looked back at you with a startled expression. “I do, I absolutely do. The feelings, they’ve always been there but I’ve just been afraid to act on them. But... I do love you, more than you know.” 

The pure expression of elation that spread across his face made your heart ache, and you just had to kiss it, to kiss him. He let out a little gasp of surprise when you grabbed his cheeks and pulled him to you, pressing your lips together. It was only when you let out a little shiver that he pulled away, ushering you inside and away from the nippy wind.

Now that you were significantly warmer you let out a long yawn, fatigue making your eyelids feel heavy. Jungkook pulled you to him again, pressing a kiss against your hair, the action would never cease to make your heart flutter. “I’ll lock up, you go upstairs to bed noona. I love you,”

“Goodnight Jungkook, I love you too,” you murmured back sleepily with a smile. Reluctantly you slipped out of his warm arms, making the treacherously long haul up to the first floor where your dwelling resided. Once he was sure you’d safely made it up the stairs, he fished around in his pocket for the keys, turning around to lock the door. However, he froze at the figure who stood looming in the doorway.

Taehyung.

You awoke later to the other side of the bed cold and empty, the feeling of a rough tongue licking at your cheek.You stirred with a groan, waiting for the grogginess to subside while you waved your cat away, hearing him pounce onto the floor and out into the kitchen. His demands to be fed grew louder and louder until you simply couldn’t ignore him, and you dragged yourself out of bed to the empty kitchen. Once Jiji’s bowl was filled and he was happily eating you noticed how quiet it was. That’s strange, where was Jungkook?

The clinking of silverware and a light on downstairs caught your attention. You scratched the back of your head in thought as you made your way down into the back room, but when you emerged  at the bottom of the stairs you froze.

“Noona!” Jungkook suddenly exclaimed, rushing forth and the loud scrape of the chairs as both men shot up caused you to  jump a little. You put our hand out to stop him approaching and he paused, your shock only grew when you noticed Jungkook was sporting a black eye, and he squirmed on the spot while you gawked at him. While you were concerned, you had something - well someone - more important to address. “Um… Taehyung is back… ” 

“I noticed, Jungkook,” you gritted, trying to keep a strong front in front of them. 

Moisture sprung to your eyes and it made Taehyung’s heart clench, seeing you look so similar to a cornered animal. One wrong move and you would likely bolt back up the stairs. You were frustrated with yourself because you didn’t expect to cry immediately, but seeing the father of your unborn child proved to affect you more than you thought it would. 

“(Y/N)... ” He began, taking a small step toward you, his arms reaching out with the urge to comfort you. However, you gave him a dirty look which had Taehyung quickly retracting and not coming any closer. “I know you’re upset… and angry… and confused-”

“Correct,” you quipped.

“But there’s an explanation, I promise,” he pleaded, waiting with baited breath before you crossed your arms and gave a tiny nod heavy with trepidation. “I wanted to come and see you personally the following morning, believe me I truly did. But something happened with my father and the company, I had to go overseas urgently.”

“For almost a month? You couldn’t have at least written to me? A telegram? Even a goddamn smoke signal was too much effort for you?” 

“I did! I wrote you a letter and left it here early in the morning before I left, I even put my return address on it so you could write back to me while I was away. I was waiting to hear from you, and the whole time I thought you’d gotten my letter and didn’t want to see me anymore, because of Jungkook.”

A tiny twinge of guilt arose within you, your gut instinct had been right. He had tried to do the right thing. “I’m sorry Taehyung, I didn’t get any letter from you.” You truly were apologetic, a part of you now wished that things had played out differently and you’d given him a chance. But you couldn’t change the past now, and Jungkook was rooted firmly in your heart. Besides, if you had to choose between the two, you’re sure you would never be able to come to a decision.

“I apologise for leaving so quickly that day, but I needed some time to think as it wasn’t just the two of us anymore. A third party had become...involved. But before I could see you in person again I had to go. Hopefully you’ll accept this,” he trailed off, gesturing to a small box on the table. Gingerly you slipped past him to pick it up, gasping when a small glass flower was inside. “When I was in Paris, I saw this in a shop window and immediately thought of you and the first time we met. Finally I got you a flower that won’t wither away and die.”

“Taehyung...it’s lovely, but I don’t really think it’s appropriate for me to accept gifts like this from you anymore. I love Jungkook now. Any contribution from you from now on should be for the b-” You stopped your words suddenly, did Jungkook tell him yet? 

“The baby? My...baby. Yes. Jungkook told me.” His eyes flickered down to your stomach. “Oh (Y/N), I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’ll support you one hundred percent, I should have been more careful.”

“Well… we should have been more careful. But you’re not mad?” You questioned, chewing on your lip nervously.

“What?! Why would I be mad at you? I… God I just want to touch your stomach so bad. Can I? Please?” He practically begged, and you felt a laugh bubble up against your will. You’d never seen him pout before. Gently you grabbed his hand, guiding his large palm against the flat of your abdomen and unintentionally pulling him closer. At his proximity your heart rate picked up, old feelings stirring at the warm cinnamon you could smell on him. No, you couldn’t think of him that way anymore. 

You diverted your gaze, instead making eye contact with your lover Jungkook while Taehyung rubbed soft circles on your stomach. Things would be… unconventional from now on, to say the least. 

“I just...don’t want to miss out on this,” Taehyung whispered. “Watching your belly grow, feeling the little kicks. I don’t have a child yet, and I’ve always been so excited to be a father. But it’s a shame things turned out this way…”

“Which is why we wanted to talk to you (Y/N).” Jungkook suddenly piped up, having been unusually quiet and relaxed this whole time. “Hyung… I mean Taehyung and I have been speaking all night.”

“I got the message from him and came to see you as soon as I got back, only to watch you kiss him instead. I must admit I was incredibly jealous and originally I planned on talking calmly, but that’s not quite what happened. We started fighting, and then we started... kissing.” He admitted, looking slightly abashed. You, however, were utterly shocked and kept looking between the two trying to imagine such a thing.

“Wait...what?! You two kissed? Each other?”

“Well, yes and then it escalated.” Taehyung murmured with a smirk, peering over to Jungkook. He looked nervous, his hand coming up to touch the back of his neck. That’s when you saw it, many more marks peeking out from under his collar than what you’d left on him. “One thing turned into another and, we ended up having sex. Your table is wobbly now, sorry about that, but this kid’s stamina is no joke.” 

Your jaw almost hit the ground, a whole mix of different emotions hitting you. The first being sorrow and betrayal, tears once more beginning to well in your eyes. But you quickly felt yourself growing angry, after all your partner had technically cheated on you with another man. 

“Jeon Jungkook, you treacherous whore,” you snarled, rubbing your temples at the headache this confusion was bringing you. “I just have one question...why? I thought you two hated one another.” 

“We just couldn’t see past the jealousy we both had over you. But once we actually started getting to know one another a bit more, we actually realised we have a lot in common and are willing to explore that further.” Jungkook explained. “I think the three of us could make it work, that way everyone is happy.”

“You mean… we’d all be together? You’re both okay with that? You actually like each other?” You questioned, to which they smiled and nodded. On the one hand, you would get to have what you’d secretly desired which was both men at the same time. The idea had your heart skipping a beat with excitement, thinking about all the sweet words they’d say, and soft mornings you’d share. How well you’d be taken care of, in many ways. But what if things didn’t work out? What if they grew too jealous and the relationship deteriorated? Apprehension weighed heavily in the air. However, if you never even gave it a shot you would never know what could have been. 

“Noona? Do you need more time to think about it?” Taehyung asked gently. Did you? You looked up at both of them, their soft gazes making you feel like the most treasured woman in the world. Ever so subtly their hands brushed together, fingers intertwining. Something in your gut told you this was the right thing to do, and you reached up to take a hand in one of theirs.

“I’m willing to try.” You told them, biting your lip to soften the huge grin. 

“Really?!” They both exclaimed in unison, eyes wide and you were suddenly tugged into their embrace. Uncontrollable giggles consumed you, and you pecked each of them on the lips.

 “I have a feeling the three of us will go together like sugar, spice and everything nice.”

It was still rather early in the morning, the sun only very faintly peeking through the curtains in your bedroom window. Still, your body was beginning to make its demands known no matter what time it may be. Jungkook was warm against your back, his arm slung over your waist, and you couldn’t stop the way you squirmed and panted softly. God, you had woken up so aroused it was almost painful. At your excessive movement he pulled you tighter to him, and you gasped at the feeling of his morning erection pressing against the soft flesh of your behind. He grumbled something unintelligible into your neck but you didn’t care, you needed him right now.

“Jungkook,” you whined, turning to face him a little more. “Please baby, please.” 

“Oh?” He definitely heard you loud and clear as he raised his head, but before he could even say more you threw your leg over his hip and began grinding your sopping apex against his clothed length. The angle was awkward but you didn’t care as it provided some well needed friction. 

Immediately his hands gripped at your swollen breasts, fingers pinching your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your nightgown, and you cried out  from the sudden pleasure. “God,” he growled in your ear. “You need me that much, huh? Can’t even wait until Tae gets here?”

“No, I can’t wait. I need you right fucking now Kookie, please.” There was desperation in your tone now, and you sounded like you were on the verge of tears.

“Alright noona, of course. You know I could never say no to you,” he whispered into your cheek, pressing a soft kiss there. His hands travelled further down your body, smoothing over your swollen tummy like he always loved doing. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, aren’t you? So desperate for me, begging to be stuffed full of cock. I can’t wait until I can fill you up with my cum and get you nice and pregnant again, with my baby.”

You rolled over onto your knees, propping your weight on your forearms. Jungkook groaned at the sight it presented him with as your gown slipped down your back, your weeping cunt glistening with your arousal, so engorged and throbbing with your pregnancy. He shot up, coming to kneel behind you so he could get a closer look. Jungkook ran his thumb through your folds, cock aching at the way you clenched and whined. There was so much slick, he couldn’t believe how wet you were, a little leaking down and dripping onto the bed from his ministrations. You became pliant, pushing back against his fingers as far as your stomach would allow, desperately wanting him to bury them into you, anything to ease that empty feeling.

“Careful sweetheart, gotta make sure you and bub are okay first,” he murmured into your ear, hands smoothing over your stomach again as he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Let’s take this off.” 

His hands bundled up the bottom of your night dress, patiently waiting until you lifted each knee off the bed so it wasn’t caught and gently peeled it from your panting form. The cool morning air nipped at your exposed skin, every inch of you flushed hot. You leaned back, Jungkook’s chest plastered to you, your puffy nipples hardening quickly when Jungkook pinched them between his fingers. Milky droplets began beading and dripping down your front, drawing a long moan at the sensitivity of them. 

“You’re so amazing, oh my god. Do you have any idea how often I’ve imagined you like this? So perfectly swollen and pregnant, so incredibly fertile. Breasts so soft and brimming with milk. You’re such a good girl for Hyung and I, you’re gonna let us fill you up again and again aren’t you?” He continued his groping while whispering filthy things in your ear, you were so worked up it was almost painful. 

“I-If you keep doing that, uhh fuck Kookie, baby. I think I might come, oh.” At your whining he gave an extra hard pinch, and little droplets of white sprinkled across the bed sheets, some dripping down your chest onto your stomach. He relented for a second to tear off his pajamas in record time, giving you barely a second’s warning before the hardness of his scalding cock was sliding into the cleft of your asscheeks, a moan breaking out from him at how soaked it got. With one hand your fingers twisted in the bedsheets, the other trying to reach behind and line him up. However, he chuckled and gripped your wrist to stop you. So close yet so far, and you began muttering a sting of incoherent and almost hysterical gibberish, undecipherable other than the occasional please. Given how wet you were he easily sunk in, and it made the stretch of his girth a little more tolerable as he bottomed out with a curse. His teeth bit softly into the flesh of your bare shoulder and you whimpered loudly as he drew back to sink straight back in at a torturously slow pace, always giving you a few seconds to accommodate his thickness. The teasing was driving you near insane, but thankfully he had such a fat cock it still felt incredible. He was always so gentle to begin with, treating you as if you were fragile. However, as he said before he could never say no to you. Once you really whined and whimpered for him to go harder, boy did he give it to you.

He adjusted his hands on your soft hips, gripping them tighter so he could tug you back onto his length as he began slamming into you. Loud slaps filled the room as his pace quickened, pounding eagerly from behind and you wailed, this angle always making him feel so much deeper than usual. “You just get more beautiful everyday, ugh,” Jungkook huffed in your ear, voice strained from the feeling of your velvet walls gripping him eagerly.

Your softness dug into his hip bones as his thrusts grew more powerful, his incredible thighs flexing with the brutal pace he set. Pleasure twisted in your abdomen acutely, the pressure building up easily with your swollen belly. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come already. You feel so good baby, oh!”

At your words he used his impressive strength to pull you against him even more, the angle had his cock rubbing against that special spot and your high hit you harder than it ever had. You reached up and behind you to anchor your hands on his thick, vascular neck, sweaty skin sticking slightly. Your thighs trembled right as you began to peak, and just as the door swung open and you locked gazes with Taehyung. You felt a delicious pressure release in your abdomen as you gushed with a broken shriek, clear fluid squirting all over the tangled bedsheets. He watched you with eyes blown out wide, grip on the doorknob so tight it almost broke and you couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled back into your head. Each jolt caused your ever growing breasts to sway, and the way your hands were above your head only accentuated all your lovely curves which he happily consumed with his gaze.

Jungkook let out a few loud, high pitched moans as he released inside you, the warmth making you shudder as you began coming down from your orgasm. A warm, sweaty forehead pressed against your back as you both panted from the effort, Jungkook’s hands steadying you as you lay down onto your side. The shortness of breath was really beginning to kick in now that you were almost five months pregnant. Wordlessly you reached out for Taehyung, making grabby hands at him as he set his things down and shut the door.

“Good morning princess.” He stalked over to the bed, eyes raking over your glistening body, also flicking back to take in Jungkook who had flopped back against the pillows. “Do you want more? Does daddy get a turn?” He leant down and whispered in your ear as he pressed kisses all along your cheek. You whined and nodded yes, immediately seeking out his lips with your own. God, you just came but you were always ready and wanted to feel both of your lovers, so insatiable these days.

“Good morning my sweet,” he murmured, bed dipping under Taehyung’s weight as he joined you. His fingers ran through Jungkook’s dark curls, and he bent down to capture his other lover’s mouth in a sweet kiss, the younger tugged Taehyung toward him and eagerly began pulling at his clothes.

While the two of them locked lips and stripped you scooted up and flopped onto your back, skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat and legs wide open to accommodate your ever growing stomach. Both men’s gaze immediately fell to your core, looking so pretty with Jungkook’s cum slowly dripping out. Taehyung couldn’t resist, he shifted toward you, dropped to his stomach and pushed your legs further apart. “Look at you, such a messy girl. Daddy should clean you up, hm?” You bit your finger coyly, head clouded with lust as you nodded. Taehyung took another few seconds to stare at your engorged centre, his breath fanning against your wetness causing you to squirm before he quickly dipped down to run his tongue through your folds, groaning at the mixture of sweet and salty taste. He lapped up the juices, tongue seeking out your clit and drawing it into his mouth ripping an almost scream from you from finally getting stimulation on your sensitive, blood fattened nub.

Taehyung started to moan louder, and you lifted your head up until you were almost sitting - you had to otherwise you wouldn’t be able to see past your growing stomach - only to find Taehyung still had his head buried between your legs. However, Jungkook had his own agenda, and his teeth nibbled at one of Taehyung’s buttcheeks before his tongue dipped down between them. One hand snuck down underneath Taehyung’s hips to stroke at his cock which he had previously been grinding against the sheets. 

You’d quickly learned that Jungkook had a bit of an oral fixation, he was obsessed with leaving hickies wherever he could. More than once the two of you would be working early in the morning, then the next thing Jungkook would haul you up onto the unoccupied part of the workbench and eat you out. You had to have a door installed that separated the back workroom from the shop because of his high libido, though as he grew more explorative you’d also have to scold him about food safety. 

The elder sat back on his knees, a hand coming to sink two fingers into your sopping apex. His thumb rubbed circles against your engorged clit, and with each thrust of his wrist he pushed out some of the thick white mixture. Now that he was sat up, Jungkook crawled up and laid on his side, coming to lap at the drops of precum on his erect length. The elder pulled his hand from between your legs and popped them into his mouth, a soft groan accompanying the taste he so adored, the cum of both his lovers combined.

“Kookie? Can you go again, baby?” Taehyung asked, his other hand gently threaded into his hair to ease him off his member. Jungkook nodded eagerly, pumping his own cock in his hand, already hard again. The stamina that boy had frightened you, once you were ready for another baby he’d have you pregnant again in no time. Taehyung motioned for him to lay on his back, and gently guided you over to where Jungkook was propped up with his head resting against the pillows. You turned around and straddled his hips with your back to him and he sat up a bit to steady you.

“Are you okay to keep going? You’re not too tired?” Jungkook whispered in your ear, to which you quickly nodded. No matter how tired you were, you rarely turned down sex with your two lovers. However, on the odd occasion that you did want to rest instead they had no qualms, as they happily indulged in their own intercourse often. The sudden need to twist around and kiss him overcame you and you whined softly, seeking out his lips. They were both so sweet and attentive, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. 

“Kook?” You murmured. He hummed in response, a warm palm soothing on your arm. “I love you, so so much.” 

He couldn’t suppress the grin that broke out across his face no matter how hard he tried, because he was so undeniably happy. “My (Y/N), I love you so much, more than you could imagine.” He leaned forward to peck your lips again before an insistent tap on your thigh brought your attention back to Taehyung.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, already pouting at him for a kiss as well. “I haven’t forgotten about you. I love you too, Taehyung.” At your words he seemed to melt a little, his lips brushing against yours over and over in soft little pecks. 

“I love you too, petal. All of you.” He touched your stomach gently, also looking back at Jungkook behind you. The hand that was just on your tummy came up to cup your cheek, however, you’d grown quite impatient and turned your head to draw two of his fingers into your mouth. 

“That’s it, such a good girl,” he hummed, smiling as you suckled while looking up at him with wide eyes. The sweet tone turned to a growl as you dropped his hand only to bend down, now practically on your hands and knees, and licked a stripe up his fat, throbbing length. The taste of his salty precum had you keening, popping the tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head. You lapped at his frenulum, occasionally running your tongue across the slit to catch the droplets as they continued to bead. 

Jungkook behind you kneaded your soft rump, pulling the cheeks apart and running his tongue from your clit up to your tight hole. Your excessive juices mixed with his cum made for a perfect lubricant as he lapped at your rim, his thumb coming to spread the slick around it and you clenched at the threat of intrusion. He watched in fascination as you clenched again, lightly pressing on it to test the resistance. Given how wet you were the digit sunk in easily, and you immediately clamped down. Taehyung growled as he felt the vibrations of your moan on his cock, his hand threading into your hair softly. Jungkook worked his thumb in and out of your ass, giving your muscles time to slowly relax. A thrum of excitement rushed through you as he pulled the digit out, only to slick up two more fingers and ease them in carefully. You always got a bit more worked up when you knew you were going to have both men at once, it felt incredible being so full of them.

“God noona, you’re taking my fingers so well. You love getting your tight little asshole played with, don’t you? Such a good girl.” Jungkook hissed, scissoring the digits until he could work in a third finger. You pulled your lips from Taehyung’s cock with a pop sound, the pleasure was so overwhelming, especially when Jungkook’s thumb came to rub circles on your clit.

“Are you close again, princess?” Taehyung asked, stroking your hair. You nodded furiously, pushing back to try and get the younger’s fingers probing deeper.

“U-Ugh! Daddy, Kookie! I’m com-oh!” you didn’t even finish your sentence before your orgasm washed over you, toes curling and skin tingling with the euphoric feeling. Jungkook’s fingers continued to rub against your sensitive walls, the completely unique feeling causing you to clench even harder. When your cries subsided you slumped back a little and Jungkook withdrew his hand. “Please,” you whimpered, pouting and looking between both your lovers.

“Please what, my love? Use your words.” Taehyung ordered.

“Want more, want you both.”

“Oh? Is one cock filling you up not enough for you? Greedy girl,” he tutted. “Can you sit back for me? Want Jungkookie to fuck your ass while I have your pussy?”

Your empty orifices clench at his words, wanting so desperately to be filled and to feel the push and pull of both their lengths fucking you. Eagerly you nodded, reaching down to touch your clit again but Taehyung’s hand grabbed your wrist.

“Did I say you could do that, hm?” He growled, tugging your hand away. Your eyes widened at his commanding tone, shaking your head slowly. “What did I just tell you to do?”

“Sit on Jungkookie’s cock, daddy.”

“Exactly, go on then,” Taehyung growled, the softness of his hands as he helped you move back contradicting his tone. You hovered over Jungkook's length, the tip pressing against the seam of your ass. A faint gasp escaped you as he ran the head of his cock through your folds to soak it in the wetness dripping from you, before moving back to line himself up. Ever so gently he pressed the tip against your asshole, applying a soft pressure, coaxing the muscles of your rim to loosen. 

Gradually your ass relaxed to grant him entrance, the head of his cock slipped in aided by your excessive slick. Once he pushed past that initial resistance the rest of his silken length sunk in easily, creating a delicious stretch and you moaned. Taehyung drank in the whole image, watching the younger's cock bottom out as his hips met the flesh of your behind and you sat fully impaled on his length.

Your pussy fluttered and clenched rhythmically, more droplets of your nectar running down to coat Jungkook’s heavy balls. The feeling had him crying out with a choked whimper, you were so tight and warm and he was so sensitive from only just coming.

Gently you rested back against his chest, Jungkook’s torso propped up safely by your pillows and your legs flopped open wider, beckoning Taehyung forward. The elder man sauntered over to you both, his precum dribbled down to join the mess between your thighs as he drew closer, rubbing the tip of his cock through your soaked folds.

You squirmed, unconsciously opening your legs wider for Taehyung to swear softly at the view he was blessed with.

“Daddy, please. Want you too,” you whined, pleading with your eyes as well. You continued shifting and grinding, making Jungkook’s grip on your hips brutally tight. He might leave a few bruises on your soft flesh but he couldn't help it, not when you felt so good. Besides, he would kiss it better later.

“Hyung-” He grunted, not able to get anything else out as he felt Taehyung’s fat cock push into your empty cunt, the thickness still stretching you despite how wet you were. In one smooth, slow stroke he bottomed out and a choked cry was torn from your lips at how full you were, already teetering on the edge and so close to tipping over. In a desperate lust filled haze your hand shot down to rub at your clit furiously, jolts of pleasure still shooting through your abdomen even though both men weren’t moving.

Instead of stopping you this time, Taehyung watched on with a smirk as you rocked yourself back and forth slightly, so desperate for release. He withdrew his cock slightly from your walls and you cried out in displeasure, pussy trying so hard to suck him back in. However, not a second later he plunged back in to the hilt slowly, right as Jungkook pulled out only to fuck back into you. The room filled with your loud cries, nothing got you to moan quite as loud as when you were stuffed full with two cocks, and not to mention the grunts and groans from both men as they picked up a rhythm, one thrusting in right as the other pulled out. 

Taehyung’s eyes glazed over as he watched his length bury into your sopping, swollen folds over and over with each thrust. The sight made him harden further, heavy balls smacking against Jungkook’s length occasionally where it sunk into your slippery ass. It didn’t take long for your next climax to come, the only warning you gave them was a broken whimper of, “hgn, c-oming!” before your legs were trembling, a little sprinkle of clear fluid gushing forth as your eyes rolled back.

“Fuck-,” Taehyung grunted, quickly circling your clit to help you ride out your orgasm as he looked at the wet sheen covering his abdomen. “This is new. Does having your tummy nice and swollen make you squirt, sweetheart?”

All you could manage was to nod furiously, hips still being jolted from each push and pull. Suddenly the urge to shift positions came forth and you pushed on Taehyung’s chest gently, still trying to find the words after your powerful orgasm that left you feeling like jelly.

He slowed his pace, an expression of alarm appeared across his features and he gripped your hand. “What is it my love? Did we do something wrong? Are you hurt?”

“N-No, I just. Can I go on top please?” You breathed out, fatigue beginning to take its toll. He visibly relaxed, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple. 

“Of course.” He eased out gently causing you to wince at the sudden empty feeling when Jungkook did the same a moment later. Your hand gripped Tae’s wrist, tugging him softly so that he turned and flopped on his back on the bed and you swung a leg over to straddle his hips, two sets of hands touching you gently, always prepared to steady you. Taehyung’s fingertips trailed up from your hips, coming to cradle the small swell of your abdomen. The tender moment had you pausing, before you leaned down to kiss the grin off his lips. 

You reached down to grip his length, lining him up before you sunk down on him. A content sigh left you at being reacquainted with the feeling you’d come to love and crave. The younger eagerly jumped up to close in behind you once again, his large hands groped the flesh of your ass, parting your cheeks to look at your twitching asshole. He was quick to ease himself back in as well, the elder giving him a moment to adjust before they picked up the pace, and from the way they were both moaning you could tell they were getting closer. You were glad as you were definitely getting tired during the rigorous fucking sessions these two always put you through. 

Jungkook’s strength astounded you, he was practically picking you up and pulling you back back onto his length, doing most of the work while Taehyung fucked up into you with practiced ease. It was more frantic now, all three of you driving towards that blissful finish as you often did to start off the morning, although you’d be having an extra long sleep in for sure after this. 

Your swollen breasts were now perfectly in Taehyung's face, bouncing with each thrust and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to draw one of your puffy nipples into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth. Your moans grew louder at the sensation, not to mention the way his chest began glistening as droplets landed there from the other peak. Not in a million years would you grow tired of seeing one of them latch onto your chest and suckle on the sensitive nubs, particularly now that you were pregnant and lactating. It just made them far more keen, the hormonal men brimming with spunk always ready to fuck their cum into you in whatever hole they could, showering you in praise after for being so good and fertile for them. Jungkook particularly would stare at your belly, definitely daydreaming about you pregnant with his child next. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind too much that you didn’t have his baby growing inside you, it only antagonised him and gave him cause to try and outdo his hyung. It was a blessing you had such high libido or this relationship certainly wouldn’t have worked out so well, but the three of you had somehow achieved harmony.

“I-ugh, hyung! I’m gonna, uhhhh, gonna come!” Kookie cried.

“You can come Jungkookie,” Taehyung growled, his own words strained as his high approached. Jungkook was the one to peak first, pushing his thick cock into the hilt, stilling slightly as the warmth of his cum flooded your ass and he let out a string of high pitched moans. You were next, thanks to Taehyung furiously slamming into your swollen, sensitive cunt. As soon as you gripped him tightly in the throes of your ecstasy, he finally came as well, filling up your pussy with his warm, thick seed.

You collapsed forward onto his chest, panting hard and he pressed a kiss into your hair. “You’re always such a good girl for us, isn’t she Kookie?”

The three of you were dazed in your sweaty, post orgasm bliss, soaking up the sweet moment. The younger man hummed in agreement and parted your cheeks, staring at the copious amount of cum oozing from your spent orifices. You were sore but satiated, happily soaking up the tender moment until Jungkook exclaimed,

“Now that is the best creampie I’ve ever made!”

➻ A/N: This fic took me six months to write...so I would really appreciate a little bit of feedback! 

Part Two: & Everything Nice coming soon! 

[inkweaver22-blr]

Welp. Here's the first chapter of that Tang fic I was talking about. Hopefully the characters aren't too out of character for this first chapter. They will be for sure in the future though. No content warnings yet but if that changes I'll make sure to add them. There's going to be lots of pairings in this one but I don't really know any of the ship names so if people want to call them out as they appear I'll add them to the tags.

AO3 Link

Chapter Two

Scattered Cicadas - Chapter One: The Cycle

Tang seems to be stuck in a strange cycle. Might as well make the most of it.

-------------

Tang was certain by now that whatever was happening wasn’t a time loop. The starting points of each new cycle were too inconsistent, as were their endings. After nearly three dozen of these strange restarts and only a third of them beginning on the day MK received the Monkey King’s staff, the scholar was fairly confident in his conclusion.

“Alright, let’s see what this timeline has in store for us,” the man said as he stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror next to his dresser. He had started this little exercise around the seventeenth reset or so after noticing something else that only added more evidence against his original time loop theory.

“My name is Tang. I work at the public library.” So far nothing out of the ordinary. “I share an apartment with my good friend Pigsy.” Ah, the first and most common change he had noticed throughout this strange experience. And it was a change. He was fairly certain he had his own place originally. “While I am not in a romantic relationship with Pigsy, I harbor a small crush on him.”

Tang continued listing things about his current life as they came to him. He had discovered the various discrepancies compared to his original time fairly early on. So far the differences had been relatively minor. Demon Bull King being freed in the Winter instead of Spring. Mei’s family being descended from a blue dragon instead of green. Sandy’s ship being filled with therapy ferrets instead of cats.

The scholar was at first thrown by the changes, and had gone through some rather embarrassing freakouts the first few times. Luckily he discovered early on that while he never personally experienced the events of these worlds or timelines, if he focused enough, the memories of them would appear. Thus his new little routine he did at the beginning of a new cycle. He found looking at himself in the mirror seemed to speed up the recollection.

“It has been roughly two weeks since Demon Bull King has been freed and MK received the Monkey King’s glaive, thus becoming his successor.” Now that was interesting. This was the first time the Monkey King’s signature weapon was different.

It was all these changes to the world and the new memories that matched them that had squashed the initial time loop theory. In all his reading of both fiction and historical events, Tang had never heard of time travel that worked this way. His second theory, that he was somehow trapped in the Calabash by Jin and Yin, was also quickly discarded. He had the displeasure of experiencing its effects first hand several cycles back and it certainly did not implant new memories into his head.

Tang finished up the recap of his new memories and paused. Nope, nothing else it seemed. With a shrug he finished preparing for work. Hopefully it would be a slow day so he could get a bit more research done into what might be happening. Perhaps this was a celestial punishment as opposed to a demonic curse? He hoped that wasn’t the case but he wouldn’t be a scholar if he dismissed any avenue of investigation just because he disliked it.

Locking the apartment behind him, Tang made his way to the nearest bus stop with a spring in his step. While the situation was certainly less than ideal, the thought of some thorough research was always something he looked forward to.

------------

Tang slowly stirred the noodles in his bowl, his brow furrowed in distraction. One of his favorite reference books for ancient mystical history at the library had been changed. Well, to be more accurate, it was different in this timeline. The author was the same, but the contents were certainly not.

Why had it not ever occurred to the librarian that if the current history around him could change, that ancient history could as well? If that was the case, then how could he trust whatever lead he might find to be actually helpful to his situation? What if the knowledge he needed didn’t exist in the timeline he was currently in? What if it only existed in his original timeline?

With a despondent sigh, Tang continued to swirl around his untouched noodles, his negative thoughts seeming to spiral in the same circular loop.

“Oi! Earth to Tang!”

Tang jumped, almost spilling his bowl as he jerked at Pigsy’s shout. He looked up to see the pig demon across the counter with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“If you’re going to be a freeloader you might as well appreciate the food I worked hard on,” the chef scolded without any real heat in his tone. “Something eating you?”

“Uh, y-yes I suppose you could say that,” Tang stammered. Pigsy raised an eyebrow and Tang flushed. The lack of confidence he normally projected had certainly been noticed by Pigsy.

“Well spit it out then. Don’t have all night.” Despite the gruffness of his words, Tang could pick out the small bits of concern in the chef’s tone.

“Well, I seem to have hit a stumbling block in one of my research projects,” Tang explained as he pushed his glasses back up and began to relax. While Pigsy always acted angry at Tang for the mooching of noodles, the pig demon, across every timeline so far, never forced the scholar to pay and was always a great listener. “I’ve come across some evidence that many of the historical texts I’m looking into might be presented differently to the events that actually transpired.”

“Isn’t that how most of history is like though?” Pigsy leaned against the counter, his scowl replaced with a puzzled frown. “Didn’t you say something last month about how history books were mostly the writers' biases or something?”

Tang blinked at that. He did somewhat recall the conversation as he focused on it, but hadn’t thought Pigsy had been paying enough attention to his rant at the time.

“Yes I suppose that is true,” the scholar conceded.

“What do you normally do when you come across these changes?”

“I keep looking for a more accurate version of the text or form an educated guess based on all the evidence I gather.”

“Then what’s the problem? If you already know how to solve the issue then there’s no reason dwelling on it. Just keep going until it's fixed,” Pigsy said bluntly.

Tang just stared at the chef for a moment. Was it really just that simple? A smile slowly spread across his face as he realized that, yes, yes it could be. Even if the knowledge in this timeline was different, that didn’t make it useless. Knowledge was power, and who knew what tiny pieces he could find to fit together into a workable solution. Leave it to Pigsy’s pragmatic outlook to cut straight to the problem and efficiently solve it.

“Thanks Pigsy,” Tang said, smiling sincerely.

“Yeah, no problem.” Pigsy waved his hand in dismissal and, was that a blush Tang saw? “Now eat your noodles before they get cold.” The pig demon quickly moved off to help a new customer that had walked in, leaving Tang to his bowl.

As he ate the delicious noodles, Tang watched Pigsy as he worked.

He had always admired his friend, even in his original timeline. What he was unsure of were the romantic feelings he had for the pig. Outside of sharing an apartment together, the relationship status between the pair was the second most common change he experienced. The first time he had woken up in the same bed as Pigsy had resulted in one of his earliest embarrassing freak outs that had resulted in a few hurt feelings for a while.

While Tang could see how these feelings could have blossomed, he couldn’t quite remember if he had felt this way in his original time. He had simply gone with the flow the many times they were romantically involved and if he was honest, they had been some of the most pleasant moments he could remember since this whole timeline jumping mess had started.

He studied the chef as he gracefully moved about his kitchen, chopping vegetables and rolling dough. The pig demon had a gruff exterior, but obviously cared about those around him a lot. He was steady and sensible, always scolding someone for doing something stupid but always there with straightforward advice if asked. He made sure that no one would ever be hungry while he was around and woe be it unto any customer who insulted his family within his earshot.

Pigsy, as if sensing the eyes on him, looked up and met Tang’s gaze. He gave the scholar a brief smile before returning to the broth he had been stirring.

As a warmth filled his chest that didn't have to do with the noodles, Tang made a decision that he was sure Pigsy would have approved of. It didn’t really matter what their relationship was. Platonic or romantic, Tang loved Pigsy for being Pigsy and always would. If these alternate worlds seemed set on making them more than friends, well then who was he to complain.

Drinking the remaining broth in his bowl, Tang grinned as he decided to act on Pigsy’s advice. This version of him had a crush on the chef and he already knew the solution for fixing that.

“Hey Pigsy! You free for a date this Friday?”

His grin grew wider as Pigsy dropped his ladle into the pot of broth and whirled around and began stammering. Behind him, the scholar heard Mei crow in victory and began demanding that MK ‘pay up’.

These strange jumps in time were certainly a less than ideal situation, but Tang decided to not worry too much about them. He knew it was only a matter of time until a solution presented itself. While he waited for that to happen, who would blame him for trying to enjoy himself in the meantime?

----------------

First chapter done wooo! Now the following chapters won't be in a strict chronological order as Tang jumps around, but some events do come before others. As for what's going on... You'll just have to wait and see~ See you in chapter two!

[professortennant]

shall we dance? (a ted/rebecca ficlet)

The phone lights up, vibrating on the kitchen table, startling him. It’s the Diamond Dogs group chat sending thumbs up and encouragement. When he and Rebecca had started seeing each other, he had pretty firm boundaries about discussing the particulars of his relationship with his friends. Rebecca wasn’t a one-night stand (his only one-night stand, for that matter), she was their boss. But more than that, she was special.

And, honestly, up until now he hadn’t needed them. The transition from employer and employee to friends to more had been smoother than anticipated. They shouldn’t work on paper maybe, but there was something electric and addictive about being with her. Perhaps it had something to do with seeing each other at their lowest--sabotage and panic attacks and cracks in the veneer. 

But dang it, some things just called for a little support and back up.

(”I told her I loved her and suddenly she’s acting like I didn’t get my cootie shot and I tell you, fellas, circle circle dot dot, I’ve been vaccinated since second grade when Penny Johnson wouldn’t play kickball with me until I--You know what, I got off track there, because I’m nervous and a little worked up and--”

“Ted,” Beard interrupted, looking even more sympathetic than normal. “Rebecca isn’t Michelle. She’s got her own set of baggage and maybe she doesn’t need you to give her all this space. Maybe she needs someone to stop her running away.”

Murmurs of agreement from Nathan and Higgins and a single grunt from Roy sealed the deal. The Diamond Dogs had struck again.)

Ted took a healthy sip of the red wine he had poured for them both, the takeaway he picked up from their favorite Italian restaurant around the corner warming in the oven, he debated on lighting a candle but figured that would have been overkill. He just needed to play it cool, not let her dance around the pink, heart-shaped elephant in the room.

Beard was right. Rebecca wasn’t Michelle. He couldn’t judge his and Rebecca’s problems on past relationships. And he hoped Rebecca certainly wasn’t lumping him in with ole Rupe-a-dupes. 

“Ted?”

He startled, seeing Rebecca in the doorway looking surprised. “Did we have plans tonight? I thought I told you I couldn’t see you tonight, I--”

“Rebecca, listen, I know you said that but things have been feeling off between us and it’s driving me crazy and I couldn’t sleep--seriously, Ms. Shipley is going to evict me and--”

“Ted, everything is fine.” She leaned forward, pressing a soft, barely-there kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Really.”

But it rang hollow, the anxiety in Ted’s chest spiked. It felt like she was slipping away from him, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the words back: he loved her. 

He searched for something, anything, to make her turn around and face him, to see him and talk to him, to stop avoiding him. And then, like a chain of lightning, it hit him.

Taking her hand in his, he tugged gently, leading her to living room, calling out to her home device to play music. Soft, trilling piano filled the silence. 

“Ted, what--”

“Hey, hey--” He held out a hand to her, bowing slightly with a flourish. “Shall we dance?”

She frowned at him, eyes darting from his hand to his face and back. “I don’t understand.”

He shuffled closer, pulling her tentatively against him, one arm sliding around her waist and the other pulling their joined hands to his chest, slowly swaying them in a circle. His face nuzzled against hers, encouraging her to tuck herself against him. Maybe it would be easier to speak into shoulders and necks instead of open, vulnerable faces.

“I was thinking,” he said softly, voice low and rumbling in her ear. “Oklahoma worked pretty good, so maybe we could have something just for us? And I remember you recommending this particular phrase so, maybe when we have something we need to talk about, like, oh I don’t know, me telling you I love you--” She stiffens in his arms, moves to pull away, but he keeps a steady hold on her, pressing a reassuring kiss to her temple--”and you run off faster than a deer seeing headlights on a backroad in Missouri, well, I think we should talk about it and dance.”

For a moment, there is only the sounds of piano music and the sounds of the city. And then she sags against him, slides her arm up his shoulder and threads her fingers into his hair at the base of his neck.

“Okay,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against his neck. He closes his eyes, heart leaping. 

“You don’t have to say it back, you know, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he tells her, still slowly waltzing them around their living room. stroking the small of her back and occasionally pressing small kisses to the side of her head. “It won’t make me stop lovin’ you just because you’re not there yet. Unless,” he swallows hard, holds her a little tighter. “Unless you don’t think you’ll ever feel that way and--”

“No,” she says it so loudly, jerking back to look at him, eyes wide and pleading. “No that’s not it at all, Ted. I--” She closes her eyes and shakes her head as if trying to dislodge a wayward thought. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asks her, twang dripping off the pet name as it always does. “Because I gotta tell you, I don’t know what to do. I want to give you space, but the last time I gave the woman I loved space, we ended up with so much space between us there was no comin’ back and I don’t want that for us.”

“I don’t want that either,” she confesses into the crook of his neck, her breath hot and sticky on his skin. He feels her press a kiss to the hollow of his throat before pulling back. Her skin is flushed, eyes glassy. “You scare me, Ted,” she says in a rush. 

He stops swaying them side-to-side, but doesn’t let go of her. “What did I--”

She presses two fingers to his mouth, stops him from interrupting. (She had been delighted to learn that shutting Ted up was a lot more effective when she could simply lean over her desk and kiss him or occupy his mouth with other matters.)

“The last man that told me that he loved me, the last man who I thought I loved in return, took that love and twisted it into something that hurt me.”

“Rebecca, I would never--”

“I know,” she says with a small hiccup, tears at the corners of her eyes. “I know that,” she assures him, soothing her fingers over his concerned brow. “But old wounds linger.”

Ted trails his fingers down her jawline, cups her face in his palm and strokes his thumb over the sharp curve of her cheekbone. “I told you I loved you because that’s how I feel about you. No strings attached to that, not ever, not with me. Okay? And if you need your heart and your head to get on the same page, fine by me. I’m not going anywhere.”

When she kisses him, it is fierce and desperate, a week of dancing around each other has left them feeling disconnected. But she barely has to raise herself up onto her toes to press against him more firmly, slide her tongue against his, and scratch her nails against his scalp to light a fire in him. He grips her fiercely, kisses her back with everything he has, hands wandering over her backside and squeezing, pulling her against him. 

He’s a firm believer of getting control over one’s emotions, but he’s pretty sure no one’s been faced with a handful of Rebecca and it bubbles out of him like a groan as he breaks the kiss to suck and nip at her neck, “Love you.”

She pushes him away and he winces, can’t believe he let himself get caught up in the moment, he’s better than this. An apology is on the tip of his tongue when she takes his face in both hands. “I love you, too, Ted.”

She grins at him shyly, eyes wide and shining with love and, in some ways something even more precious: trust.

Still, he has to make sure she knows he meant it about strings and expectations. “You don’t have to--”

But, as always, she’s three steps ahead of him. “I know, but I want to. I wanted to when you said it last week, but,--” She shrugs, trailing off. “Old wounds are still tender.”

He leans forward and kisses her softly on the forehead, lingering there for a moment, before pressing feather-light kisses to her nose and cheek and, finally, her mouth. She’s warm against him, pliant and loose, melting into him, pressing her hips against his, tugging at his hair. 

(The food is forgotten in the oven, both of them settled and certain in their relationship. She isn’t running and he isn’t panicking. The bedroom walls hear nothing but the soft grunts and moans, the curses and panting, and the gentle trading of I love you over and over again.)

[elriell]

Chapter Two—  

[Chapter 1]

In The Absence of Light

Restless sleep continued to plague her the following nights, just as she had feared the cold spikes of anxiety that crippled her mind refused to ease up their battle for control.

Azriel never mentioned their tense early morning encounter, but she could not deny that after his departure she had finally managed to succumb to a few good hours of rest, and for that she was grateful. She put it down to simply feeling calmer after seeing a friend and refused to look any further in to why that would be.  

So, when Elain saw him over breakfast, she offered him a genuine smile and accepted the muffin he silently offered her in return. She tried not to dwell on the fact that he did not in truth look as if he had been blessed with a good sleep, as she had.  

~

Several nights had passed since then and time trickled by slowly, each night she found herself staring up at the ceiling, tossing and turning among the expensive linens, unable to settle down. Vivid dreams swirled around in her head; the same thoughts as always, they appeared to be taking up permanent residency, she was less than pleased with that realization.  

Every noise poked at her subconscious, taunting her mockingly. She let out a sigh at the ridiculousness of her thoughts, as if the branches crashing in the wind could possibly be trying to ridicule her, she truly was losing it alltogether. Taking a deep breath, she gave up on her quest for sleep and slid her feet in the soft pair of slippers and set off for the kitchen, doing her best not to awake anyone on her path, though she doubted she would, everyone in this house seemed to sleep through most her terrors.  

Lost in her own scattered thoughts she barely saw him lent over, in truth he looked as though he too was in his own world. Strong powerful arms flexed over the sink as he gazed out the window in to the gardens below. The dark leathery wings hung limply behind him, he painted quite the sorrowful picture, moonlight casting down upon him.

A fallen angel, infinitely beautiful and untouchable in an heartbreaking way.  

“Trouble sleeping?” His honey voice caught her off guard, she really had to stop being surprised when it came to the shadow-singer, his instincts were sharp as the thorns that she tried to avoid when gardening.  

“Seems to be going around these days.” A soft shrug. “I was just going to make myself something warm, would you join me?”  

He turned towards her at that and it struck her as it always did how easily he concealed his emotions, as if he could carefully tuck them away in a box and forget about them. His eyes however spoke volumes, they were devastating to her mental resolve, a crack splintering straight to her heart.

“I would like that very much.”  Agreeing gently.

Elain willed herself to focus on the task at hand; warming up some milk for the both of them. She felt more than heard him shuffle amongst the kitchen retrieving mugs and placing them to her left, returning to his former place. “Thank you for the other night— No, no, no... Please don't stop me, I want to, no I need to. I haven’t gotten that much sleep-in months, so thank you.”

A small blush crept up his face much to her quiet delight, it was such a rarity to pierce his stoic exterior.

She poured them both a cup each and set out to retrieve some cookies from a jar she had baked earlier in the day, once she had set a sufficient amount on a plate, she joined Azriel at the small breakfast table at the far end of the room.

Though dark out it was a beautiful spot, the whole side of the wall was built from different shades of stained glass and under the moonlight it shone a messy pattern of colors across the cobblestone floor, it had quite easily become one of her favorite places once her nightmares began. A colorful sanctuary to be at ease.

There were so many questions on the tip of her tongue, she wondered so much about him, about his troubles, his travels, about Nesta, who she had not received any letters from since her departure though that was no surprise all things considered. She wished she could tell her she had not known of the plans, wished she could have at least said goodbye, god, she wished for so many things.

Perhaps she would ask Azriel to take her on his next visit to the mountains, she filed that away for another day.  

“I suppose the tonic didn't work then?” He inquired before dunking a cookie in to his mug.

“Ah—” Hesitating for a beat too long. “It's alright you needn't lie to me; your secrets are your own. If you do not wish to say I shall not bring it up again.”  He jumped in before she finished.

Truth. She knew without a doubt he would not push her, would accept whatever she was willing to give.  

“That is quite alright, to be honest with you Azriel, I am not sure I quite know myself.” She considered it carefully. “I think deep down, beneath every excuse, I just, well I just don’t want to be...”

“Medicated.” He finished for her.

It should not surprise her after all this time, he was always able to read her seamlessly and understand her completely even when she wasn’t sure she understood herself. He was able to deduce that she was a Seer when the rest thought she was going mad, even her own mate, scoffing internally at the word. It was a shame, she supposed, that it had nothing to do with Lucien. He was a good enough man but she simply couldn’t handle the burden that such a bond posed after the events of last year.  

“Exactly.”

He was uncharacteristically sheepish when he asked, “It’s not my place, but is something wrong? Lucien?” He stumbled over the last word as if he found it hard to roll off his tongue. Odd. Azriel rarely if ever spoke on the subject of the former spring court emissary, almost seemed to avoid it at all costs.

Upon reflection she could not think of one time through their many conversations that he had ever inquired about him if she had not started the discussion.  

It was eery some days, it was as though he could see inside her soul, study her like a well-read book.

And if she was following that analogy through then she was certainly an old nattered forgotten book that was far too damaged to be of much value... She heard Nesta’s voice as the thought formed scolding her for thinking that any book would not hold its own important value in the world.  

“No.” She replied honestly. “I am not quite sure what is fuelling my problems only that they are rather determined at keeping me from a peaceful sleep. But enough about that, let us talk about better things, happier things, tell me about your favorite places to...”

And so, they would spend several hours hunched over the table talking in hushed tones about everything and nothing at all, refilling their mugs repeatedly as time faded away and all that remained was the moments within, the coloured light streaming over them bathing them in a pool of colours steadily shifting as the sun rose, not that either noticed until household staff awoke to prepare for the day.  

And when she returned to her bedchamber, she would not care on bit that she was still on the brink of exhaustion.

~

They developed quite a habit of it unexpectedly. At one point or another in the night when her sleep or lack there of, became too much to bare, she would wander down to the kitchen where inevitably he would be sat as if waiting for her.

She tried not to be so self-absorbed as to think it was solely because of her. But after the first few times happened and it became a reoccurring pattern, warm milk always lay on the table waiting for her, always warm, almost as if he could sense when she would arrive despite it changing most nights.

It did not help her ever growing endearment to him.

~

Although she knew Azriel would eventually grow bored of this habit they had formed, perhaps conversation would become tiresome to maintain for him but she promised to enjoy his company while it lasted.

He made her happy and the small private moments she would cherish among the bland parts of her day, though it wasn’t particularly healthy for either of them as it meant neither was sleeping much.

But it was a worthy sacrifice, all considered she was not sleeping before therefore she was not losing anything, however she did feel a twinge of guilt for the shadow-singer. Hoped it would not interfere with his day-to-day activities and not put him at greater risk whilst following out orders.  

But alas all good things must come to an end and last night would mark that for them both.

He had been uncharacteristically quiet all night, simply letting her ramble on about the new plans for opening up the back garden to prepare it for new flowers and wildlife, he had simply watched her for hours with a gentle “Mmm” and “Of course” along the way, in hindsight she should have guessed something was coming.

He arose from the bench first keeping his eyes locked to the ground, and fiddling with the lapels of his jacket seemingly trying to buy time, while the silence hung heavy in the air.  

“It seems there has been some problems arising in the northern territories and Rhys has asked that I head out for a few days to ensure it is nothing more serious.” Shifting his feet back and forth still reluctant to make eye contact.

“I see.” She really didn’t. “When are you to leave?”

The grimace was noticeable on his controlled face, “An hour ago. Give or take.”

He did not give her time to respond as he leaned over her, closer than they had been to each other in some time and he smelled like the woods after a rainfall if that could be a smell at all, fresh yet masculine. The kiss he planted on her forehead was so gentle had she not had her eyes open she scarcely would have felt it.  

Her lids fell and her breathing changed, and she wondered if one could feel as if their heart both stopped and raced at the same time, she was losing all sense of reason and by the time she regained her thoughts enough to open her eyes he was gone.  

His absence hit her quickly and she had to take a deep breath to hold back the tear stinging her eye, yet again she was left to her own devices. Perhaps it for the best that she not grow too reliant on his company, though she was infinitely grateful for his friendship and companionship she did not want him to feel burdened by her.  

This would give them some much needed separation and time to rebuild her mental walls and form some boundaries for herself.

~

The first night was not as bad as she expected and she tried to be optimistic that this was a new leaf for her.

Unfortunately, as she well knew nothing lasts for long, especially something good. Not for her. By the fourth night the dark void had returned in full to cause chaos on her mind, and so chaos spread, worsening night after night.  

Elaine’s nightly visits to the kitchen had not ceased they simply became a solitary adventure and as the week reached its end, she was near desperate for the relief of her favorite companion would provide.

Having overheard Mor speaking to Feyre in the lounge she was able to confirm that he had returned to the estate sometime midday, though his meetings with his High Lord kept him out of sight much to her disappointment.

She did her best to tame the growing excitement that bubbled up when she thought about his return.

Tonight, for a change she made no attempts to sleep simply busied herself with brushing out her curls and spraying her favorite perfume, feeling silly for going to such efforts. Truthfully though she knew that beneath whatever crush she had formed it had little to do with her attachment to him, it was his companionship and friendship she coveted most, he was a true and loyal friend, a rare thing to her these days.  

She made a promise to herself not mare it with her growing attraction. She refused to lose another person she cared about.

Which is why when she finally made it down to the kitchen after holding off as long as possible only to be greeted by an empty room, she felt her heart twinge. Feeling silly for simply assuming he would be there, for not even questioning it. Not that she blamed him, the kinder part of her hoped he was getting a descent nights rest again, refusing to think on it for long she made herself warm cocoa and set off for bed.

Unsurprisingly sleep did not come easy to her but at least on this night it was not the terrible evil that plagued her, rather the piercing eyes of her favorite spy.

As the hours ticked on and she grew more restless her body wrenched itself out of bed as if on its own accord, and paced a way across their home, it was as she reached the West Wing she realized where she had unconsciously ended up. It was not hard through process of elimination to work out which was his, no light shone beyond the door and no detectable sound either, though she doubted she would know if he was moving about.  

It was silly to have come all this way and she was well aware of how embarrassing her need to visit him was but as she stood with only a large oak door separating them, she understood exactly why she had come, because in that moment she finally felt calmer than she had all week, the anxiety that weaved its way through her reseeded slowly.  

She figured that it couldn’t hurt to stay for a few moments to calm down a little more before venturing back, it would not hurt anyone what they did not know.  

Unaware of when it happened, she found herself sliding down against the door until her bottom hit the cold cobblestones, it was a rather strange feeling that simply being in proximity to him would bring her such small comforts but so was the case as she felt exhaustion slowly creep over and when it came, she felt safe enough to let it take her, she closed her eyes and drifted away.

~

Pheeeeew, That was long and still a little sad but i promise it is going to get less DEPRESSING™️ I just want to lay the groundwork for what is going to happen 😉 I would love any and all critique as always, it is what fuels me!

Also i was almost finished writing the chapter but the title and colourful glass is inspired by the book I am re-reading with that name.

As always anyone who wants to be added or removed just let me know 🖤

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