#no body is home except for his fiance and me

[firstluvlatespring]

.

[peachdues]

FAMILY MATTERS

Shinjuro Rengoku x Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Reader

A/N: so uhhh… y’all remember my Red Dress one shot? Well, here’s the continuation of that, except now, it’s Shinjuro’s turn.

There is nothing redeemable about this. It’s pure smut.

CW: MDNI • 7.2k • explicit sexual content below • cucking • breeding • creampie • Kyojuro sets his fiance up tbh but she’s into it • just nasty filth • doggy • rough rug sex • desk sex •

Senjuro ended up departing for a neighbor’s after dinner, and the Rengoku patriarch retired to bed not long after. Though the two of you should have been well on your way home, Kyojuro had gotten distracted.

“I thought of you all through dinner,” his breath is hot against your ear. One hand flips up the skirt of your sundress as the other fumbles with his belt. “How you sat there, talking to my father and brother while my seed leaked out of you.”

“Kyojuro — oh —“ you’re cut off by his bruising, rough kiss. You break away only with a sharp gasp as your fiance’s practiced fingers drag over the lacy seam of your underwear, your hips bucking into his touch. His mouth only slopes messily down your neck. Kyojuro growls into your skin in approval at the wetness he finds between your legs — a mixture of his cum and your renewed arousal.

“You drive me wild,” the leather around his hips gives way, and his fingers are nimble as they unfasten the top button of his pants.

You can’t hide the way your mouth runs dry, or how your thighs unconsciously press together as Kyojuro pulls his stiffened cock free. A thrill flutters in your stomach at the thought of getting on your knees before him and offering your mouth for his use. That excitement is doubled at the prospect of being inside your future father-in-law’s study, a place you wouldn’t have dared to venture had Kyojuro not led you here by the hand.

But that arousal grinds to a sharp halt when Kyojuro’s fingers curl under the edge of your underwear and yank them down your legs. A quick rustle of fabric indicates he’s shoved them into the pocket of his loosened pants, for safe-keeping.

Kyojuro gives himself a firm pump before lining himself up with your entrance.

“This is — Kyo — your father’s study —“

“I’m aware.” With one mighty thrust of his hips, he forces himself to the hilt inside you. “Keep quiet, my Flame.”

Once he’s confirmed that your hand is braced steadily behind you on the rich mahogany of his father’s desk, Kyojuro pulls back, his fingers deftly pushing the straps of your sundress from your shoulders. He tugs the bodice down to your waist and your breasts pebble at the sudden exposure to the warm air of the home office.

Kyojuro hums at the sight of the marks he’d left behind; the way the light from the fire dances across your exposed skin.

He begins with shallow thrusts that grow deeper, more forceful with every passing moment. Before long, you’re forced to smother your whimpers against the thick curve of his shoulder, your fingers curling under the edge of the desk as it rocks and creaks with his movements.

“Fuck, my love,” Kyojuro groans into your hair. “God, you feel too fucking good to stop.”

He must be desperate, you decide, given the way he steadily lets his weight fall into you until you’re forced back against the flat surface of the desk. If you weren’t too busy muffling your sounds of pleasure by burying your teeth into your bottom lip, you would’ve smiled. Kyojuro was so adorable when he was like this; when he gave into his more base desires to rut fast and deep.

Your fiance quiets his own euphoria by sealing his mouth against your throat. His moans rumble across your skin, chased by alternating flicks of his tongue nips of his teeth His hands grip you firmly by your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, anchoring you to him as he pushes faster and deeper into you.

A floorboard nearby creaks, but neither of you notice; you’re too enraptured in one another, your body already thrumming with a need for more that hot, saltiness you can’t help but crave that you know Kyojuro won’t be able to resist giving you.

Thank goodness for the card of neat little pills waiting on your nightstand at home; though you’d likely be pushing your luck, you’re optimistic that your fiancé will give you his fill and still get you back in time for you to take your birth control.

Kyojuro tears his mouth away from your neck and straightens, his nails digging into your hips as he jerks you to meet his bruising thrusts.

“What do you think, Father?” Kyojuro’s jovial tone makes you freeze and the sweat which has begun to cling to your skin turns cold. “Is the view better than you imagined?”

Instantly you jolt up, clinging to Kyojuro’s massive frame in an effort to keep yourself concealed.

A dismissive scoff sounds from a distant corner of the study. “It certainly isn’t worse.”

Dread curdles in your stomach as Kyojuro’s father steps out of the shadows. His face is hard and severe, even as he draws closer to the fireplace adjacent to his desk, the light of the flames offering no warmth.

You begin to squirm against Kyojuro, who is bewilderingly still buried snugly inside your warmth. Your anxious little taps against his chest, his shoulders, however, do nothing to spur him into action, no matter how you urge him away.

“Now, now, my Flame,” your fiancé tuts, quelling your protests with a warning thrust, shallow, but firm enough to cease your squirming. “You cannot deny you’ve been tempting him.”

Across the richly manicured office, the elder Rengoku’s eyes burn in silent agreement.

“In fact, I seem to recall you mentioning how fuckable you thought he still was.”

Your mouth falls open in horror. Not only was it an exaggeration of what you’d actually said (he could still get it, don’t you think?), but you’d said it to tease Kyojuro. In private.

“And I think we both know this little dress of yours was intentional. You know how we love red.”

Shane burns in your cheeks. You did. You’d worn the red sundress to bait your fiancé, but you’d also done it knowing the significance of the color red in the Rengoku family. And while your comment about the fuckability of the family’s patriarch had mostly been lighthearted, some part of you had always been curious.

Perhaps Kyojuro was right; maybe you’d been enticing the senior Rengoku just as much as you had his son.

But there’s a faint tinge of jealousy in Kyojuro’s tone that has your heart thumping madly against your sternum. It’s the kind he rarely showed even when you were openly flirted with in front of him, whether the two of you were out on a romantic dinner or simply running errands together. A sort of dominance that only ever manifested when Kyojuro perceived a threat — a person whose eyes lingered too long, or when someone simply got too close for comfort.

It is that possessive anger which shows now that his competition is his own father. Perhaps he is hoping the elder will be exactly that — an old man, limited in his age and unable to satisfy you the way Kyojuro knows how. Though, from your blushing once-over of Shinjuro’s form where he waits across the study, you quietly think perhaps Kyojuro has underestimated his father. While he may indulge in his stash of fine alcohol too often, Shinjuro remains agile as ever, his body, strong.

Your curiosity flames, lashing at you until it can no longer be ignored. For every way Kyojuro’s personality contrasted heavily with his father’s, you could not help but wonder whether that opposition continued in other areas. Namely, the way Kyojuro’s switch flipped the second you got him alone, riled up and heated was in diametric opposition to his ordinarily warm and sweet disposition.

Because, no matter how gentle and kind and warm Kyojuro was, rile him up enough and he turned into a downright fiend when left alone with you.

Shinjuro, in contrast, was anything but sunny and cheerful. At best, he was a crass old man with a habit of letting alcohol loosen his already too loose tongue. Assuming consistency was a variable in play, perhaps that meant he would be softer; more gentle.

Despite your embarrassment at having been discovered, you cannot deny your own longing.

Kyojuro grinds once more into you before withdrawing from your heat entirely. You wince at the loss of his warmth, fingers clawing at air to bring him back, to cover you with the safety of his body once more, but he only steps aside.

“If you’re gonna fuck in my house, little girl, then you’re gonna have to abide by my rules.” Shinjuro’s voice carries that deadly sort of authority you’d only ever heard him assert when dealing with business, and it’s severe enough that you find your spine straightening in answer. “And I believe in sharing.”

Your mouth falls open as though you have any basis to protest when you’ve been caught red-handed, but Shinjuro cuts you off.

“That’s my rule from now on.” He looks to his son. “You fuck her in my house, then it’s free use. That includes your brother, once he’s an adult. Don’t like it? keep it in your fuckin’ pants.”

Shinjuro’s attention slides back to you, and a sharp flutter shoots through the pit of your stomach at the leering desire in his eyes. “And I don’t care if you’re here visiting with your future kids. I’ll fuck you once they’re asleep.“

Any cautious optimism you had that Shinjuro might embrace the softer side of intimacy flew right out the delicately arched window of his study.

And yet, your curiosity lingers.

Hesitantly, you lower your eyes and see the rigid bulge straining against the seat of his pants. It looks almost identical to Kyojuro’s, but from your quick assessment, it seems his father boasts a greater thickness.

The thought of how that thickness might feel, buried inside your makes, makes your mouth go dry.

Warm, gentle fingers catch your chin. “Only if you want to.”

It is a whisper only meant for you to hear, and suddenly, some of your anxiety eases. You know, by the burning sincerity in his eyes, that if this truly was beyond your realm of comfort, Kyojuro would cut it off without you needing to even utter your safe word.

With a light gulp, you nod, the movement almost as imperceptible as Kyojuro’s eyes become unreadable. But he says nothing more; instead, Kyojuro merely steps away, leaving no barrier between you and his father. Predator and prey.

Self-consciousness has your arm jumping to lock itself over your chest, a futile attempt to conceal what has already been exposed.

Shinjuro stalks silently across the rug, drawing short of where you’re still spread atop the edge of his desk. The shadows dancing along the walls of his study do not conceal the way his tongue flicks out from between his lips, moistening them, the longer he stares between your parted thighs. You clench around nothing under the heat of Shinjuro’s gaze, and his eyes narrow like he knows.

Some of that burning desire tempers as Shinjuro’s eyes flick to your face. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

The abruptness of the question catches you off guard, and you’re shaking your head before you remember to demand why he’s asking in the first place.

Shinjuro’s eyes harden. “You’ve had the nerve to fuck this girl under my roof and you still haven’t knocked her up?” He scoffs, turning his attention back to his son. “I impregnated your mother the first time I brought her here. Have you no shame?”

A quiet anger simmers in Kyojuro’s eyes. “She’s on birth control.”

“No fuckin’ excuse,” Shinjuro pushes past his eldest, his eyes locked between your thighs, still spread wide. “The Rengoku family is known for its virility. You’ve embarrassed that legacy. Go sit down.”

Wordlessly, Kyojuro backs away, his anger burning hotly on his face. He crosses to one of the great, stuffed leather armchairs to the side of the hearth where the fire roars and settles in, his eyes bright.

Shinjuro turns his ire back to you. “You see that ring on your finger? The one paid for with our family’s money?” And your eyes drop to the beautiful engagement ring sitting on your left hand, placed there by Kyojuro. “That’s not just a gift, sweetheart. Deal was you get the ring and you give this family your womb.”

Some fiery, rebellious part of you balks at that, overtakes your own common senses. “The wedding is still a few months away.”

“You think that fuckin’ matters? That ring means you’re part of this family, little girl. And being in this family means pulling your weight.”

He reaches for you then, and it takes a concentrated amount of effort to not flinch away from him, no matter how wetness pools between your legs.

Shinjuro’s fingers curl around your forearm, tugging it away to expose your breasts.

“Not bad.” He clicks his tongue. He palms one in his hand, rolling it, pinching it between rough yet warm fingers, as though testing it. With an alarming swiftness, the tension in your limbs eases, your body turning pliant and supple under his touch, confident and knowing. The faint moans trembling in your throat under your future-in-law’s inspections quickly choke off with a yelp as Shinjuro gives one tit a firm slap.

He smirks. “They’ll be better once you’re good and fat with a kid. What, with your milk and all.” He closes his eyes and shudders. “So fuckin’ sweet. I couldn’t get enough of it with Rukka.”

Shinjuro jerks his head at Kyojuro where he settles into the great leather armchair by the mantle. “He’ll like it, too. Little degenerate, just like his old man.”

He fondles you once more, pulling a small whimper from you that makes him smirk. Shinjuro eyes one of the hickeys near the top of your nipple, left behind by Kyojuro’s earlier attentions and with a faint sneer, he flicks it.

You gasp and arch into him, goosebumps skittering along your skin and you quietly present yourself for more. The way he continues to palm you — rolling each breast in his hand, testing its weight — leaves you with the distinct impression that you’re little more than some prized brooding mare and he, your inspector. That feeling is only amplified when Shinjuro suddenly grabs your hips and forces you back against his desk, maneuvering your body in different positions to see how you bend.

“Arches her back nicely,” he remarks casually, as though discussing something as tepid as the weather. “Feels flexible, too. But none of that means shit if she’s not fertile.”

Shinjuro steps back, his hands planted on his hips, expectant. “Let’s see what we’re working with, girl. On the floor,” When you don’t move, too frozen atop the desk and uncertain of what he’s asking, he nods at the rug. “Go on — present yourself for me. Need to inspect the goods.”

With shaking legs, you lower yourself off the desk. Cheeks flushed with heat, you cast one last, anxious glance at your fiancé. Kyojuro, however, says nothing, his eyes boring into yours as he waits.

You’re doing this; you’re actually doing this. You are willingly lowering yourself to the great, ornate rug sprawled across the floor of the study, knees first, and then your hands, followed by your forearms.

Your heart hammers away at your chest as you wait, ass held high in the air, your cunt on open display. A soft thump of a body lowering itself behind you is followed by rough fingers that spread your ass cheeks, forcing your thighs to shift and widen. The faintest tickle of warm breath fans over your heated, drooling center, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying out in desperation.

“Pretty little pussy,” Shinjuro hums with faint appreciation. Two, thick fingers swipe harshly through your dampened folds, spreading your wetness from your clit to your entrance. “Glad he at least knows how to get you warmed up. You’re fucking soaked.”

His fingers circle your opening, pressing against it just enough to make you squirm into the rug, but not enough to alleviate the nearly painful way your cunt continues to flutter and clench around nothing.

“How does she take it — oh,” you can hear Shinjuro’s leering smirk as he slips his finger inside your fluttering entrance. “Sucked me right in. Least she knows what to do when she’s got somethin’ in her.”

He pumps another finger lazily into you as you moan your encouragement. “Does she taste as sweet as she smells?” Shinjuro’s voice is faintly hoarse as he addresses his son.

There’s a pause that seems to stretch on for an eternity. “Sweeter.” Comes Kyojuro’s answer, strained, though you cannot see his face from where his father has crowded you into the rug. “Father —“

“I ain’t gonna taste her.” Shinjuro brushes off your fiancé’s warning, flippant. “Don’t need to. She’s ready for a good breeding, I can tell just by the smell of her.” A sharp slap of a hand against your sex pulls a yelp from you, and yet you can’t stop from wiggling your hips in a silent plea for more. “But you have failed your duty in bringing about the next generation of our family. You both have.”

There’s a rustle of clothing behind you followed by the distinct click of a belt buckle. “So I’m correcting it.”

Shinjuro’s fingers find your clit again, his quiet signal that he is addressing you even though he turns your brain to mush beneath his expert touch. “Looks like I’ve gotta show my boy how to properly breed a woman, since he’s yet to put his brat in you.”

Your stomach clenches. If not for Shinjuro’s leg wedged thickly between yours, keeping you spread for him, you would’ve pressed your thighs together in anticipation.

Shinjuro shifts behind you, pushing his pants down past his knees. Your curiosity is too great to resist, and slyly, you throw a glance over your shoulder, eager to see if your predictions about the Rengoku patriarch’s endowments ring true.

Before you can confirm, a rough, demanding hand ensares itself in your hair. With a hard shove, Shinjuro forces your head down, deepening the arch in your back. Behind you, Kyojuro makes some faint noise of discontent at his father’s roughness with you, but he does not interfere.

“I can only assume it’s ‘cause he’s not fuckin’ you properly. That’s what happens when you spread your legs for boys. They don’t know what you need.” He lines his tip up with your entrance. “Need a man to fuck you right.”

With a single, deep thrust, Kyojuro’s father bottoms out inside you.

He does not bother to give you time to adjust to him; he’s moving before you manage to choke out a small sound of surprise, one that’s lost to the fierce smacking of skin meeting skin.

“You need to— fuck — her — like — this —“ Shinjuro grinds out, each word punctuated with a sharp slap of his pelvis against your rear. The fat of your ass jiggles with every lurid thrust, and the elder Rengoku’s balls — heavy and full of cum that you know he’s going to insist on unloading inside you — smacks against your clit in time with his movements.

A responsive moan vaguely registers to your right, and with great effort, you turn your head toward the sound, eyes squinting through the stray strands of hair that have fallen over your face.

You spy Kyojuro, seated in the great leather armchair by the study’s fireplace. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright as he watches where his father appears and disappears into your body. In his hand is his cock. Its tip matches the color of his lips, parted as he pants against the languid pumps of his fist.

Shinjuro must catch sight of his son too, and it only spurs him to move faster; harder. “You like looking at her while she gets fucked, don’t you?”

You crane your neck further to watch for your fiancé’s answer, but a pointed slam of Shinjuro’s cock deep into your warmth forces your eyes back into your head. The stretch from him is incredible and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, even with Kyojuro; a burning fullness that is almost as uncomfortable as it is pleasurable.

Kyojuro must nod, for his father only scoffs in dismissal.

“Yeah, I see why. She’s a pretty fuckin’ thing, isn’t she?” A harsh slap of his hand against your ass nearly sends you jolting forward. “Bet you treat her like a little princess; too delicate to handle a good pounding.”

If you weren’t so fixated on the way your breasts scrape against the coarse rug beneath you in a dizzying blend of pain-tinged pleasure, you might have laughed. Kyojuro was an adventurous lover, and a considerate one at that. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to pin you down and fuck you when you wanted him to. Though, even Kyojuro’s roughest moments did not compare to the way his father now brutally fucked you into the floor of his study, his cock fat and heavy; as hard as steel.

Unlike Kyojuro, there is nothing loving about this; no tenderness. Shinjuro’s movements are nothing more than pure domination. He is not demanding your submission; he is forcing it.

The conversation between father and son is accompanied by a score of wet, sticky slaps of Shinjuro’s hips against your ass and the tiny little oh! oh! ohs! that you whimper into the rug. You soon find it impossible to fix your gaze on anything other than the diamond sitting delicately on your left ring finger; the way it glints and shines in the firelight as your fiancé’s father fucks you harder into the floor.

“That’s where you’ve gone wrong, boy. Fertile little things like this don’t want to romanced.” One broad, rough hand snaked up your spine to grip the nape of your neck, pushing your head down hard into the rug. “They want to be used.”

Shinjuro laughs, a harsh, jeering sound. “Just wanna be fucked stupid, isn’t that right?” His fingers tighten around your neck, commanding your attention despite the way he’s fucking your brain numb. “You just want someone to pump a baby into you. You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?”

The skin of your kneecaps burn from the way they scrape against the rug under your future in-law’s unyielding pace, and it’s because of that stinging pain that you’re able to ground yourself enough to manage a single, jerky nod of your head.

“Tch. Then why are you on birth control?” Shinjuro growls between vicious, forceful thrusts, his pelvis slapping hard against your backside. “You holding out on this family?”

Shinjuro draws nearly all the way out before he slams back into you, the blunt head of his cock bullying right up against your sweet spot. A slew of profanities pour from your mouth into the rug below, and your toes curl violently as he shifts his hips forward and keeps himself pressed right against it, stilling his movements.

You want to howl; he’s pushed right against the most sensitive part inside your body, one that Kyojuro knows will have you making a mess of both yourself and him after only a few grazes. And yet, his father, the bastard that he is, has the head of his cock jammed right against it, with seemingly no inclination of moving anytime soon.

Nor does he seem to care how you writhe and whimper into his rug, either. Your legs vibrate against the floor, and your hips move of their own volition, desperate for relief, but Shinjuro’s hold on your neck strengthens.

It’s torture and he must know it. “Answer me.”

“Not ready!” You gasp, your hands balling into fists against the carpet, your nails biting into your palms as the throbbing deep in your cunt becomes nearly excruciating. “We said — ngh — we said we weren’t ready yet!”

You cry out at the sting of a hand smacking hard at your ass. “You’re marrying into an old family, sweetheart.” Shinjuro spanks you again, and tears spring into your eyes. Yet, despite the pain, you only throw your hips back, desperate for more. “Money ain’t a concern. Your job is to birth the next generation of Rengokus.”

Despite his admonition, Shinjuro resumes his movements, easing back into his previous pace as though he hadn’t paused to start. You nearly cry out in relief, your hips circling and grinding against him for more, just more.

“Doesn’t matter, now. Don’t worry, you pretty little thing. You’ll be begging me to put a son in you soon enough. But until then —“ a rough, bruising hand snakes its way into your hair, balling it between his fingers. Shinjuro jerks hard on your head before he mashes it into the rug below, your cheek chafing against the rough carpet. “I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you. My son needs to be taught a lesson.”

Your eyes strain to seek out your fiance once more. Kyojuro’s blush has deepened to a fierce crimson, though his eyes darken at the way his father shoves you down into the floor.

Kyojuro is a passionate lover; while he can and does fuck you hard, he always keeps well behind the line between rough sex and cruelty. His father, it seems, toes that boundary far more closely. You can tell this bothers your beloved fiance by the hard set of his jaw and the wait his teeth grit together.

And yet, as the noises pouring from your mouth out of you slide from high-pitched, breathy whimpers to deep, sultry moans, and the study fills with pointed wet schlicking sound as the Rengoku patriarch continues fucking you without mercy, Kyojuro does not interject.

His hand only tightens around his cock; the tempo of his movements, only growing in speed.

Shinjuro’s grip on your neck loosens before his hand pulls back to rejoin the other at your hips. A low whistle blows past his lips. “If only you could see the way she’s creamin’ all over me, Kyojuro — filthy thing loves being used.”

He grunts appreciatively as he jerks you back to meet his rapid movements. “Does she always make this mess on you?”

A deep, rumbling groan is Kyojuro’s only answer, and his father chuckles.

“I figured. Look at her, suckin’ me in like this. Practically beggin’ me to fuck a child into her.”

A sharp smack cuts through the air like a knife, the skin of your ass stinging as Shinjuro cocks his hand back and spanks you again. Harder and harder he rides you, and the bruising ache blooming between your thighs is one you know you’ll feel for days.

Shinjuro’s next thrust is forceful enough that it lays him nearly flat against your back, his chest heavy and hot, dampened with sweat. The coarse hair covering his sternum scrapes at your shoulders as the elder Rengoku tightens his hold on your hips.

“You picked a ripe one, Kyojuro, I’ll give you that. Pretty little cunt like this was meant to be filled.” A hand winds under you, and Shinjuro’s palm presses flat against your lower belly. “With hips like this, she was made to give this family more sons.”

“Pussy is even better pregnant.” Shinjuro declares to no one in particular, his whiskey-tinged breath hot against your ear. “All the hormones and shit. Makes things tighter. Wetter.” You twitch violently into him as his thumb glides harshly over your clit. “More sensitive too. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“You want her pregnant, don’t you, Kyojuro?” And before his son can answer, Shinjuro snorts. “Yeah, you do. Bet you’ve even beat off to the image of it — her all fat and swollen with a kid, tits leaking, pussy sweeter than wine. I know I would.”

Beads of sweat roll down the thick planes of Shinjuro’s chest and abdomen, staining your back. Each jolt of his body into yours produces a wet thwap that joins the lewd squelching your cunt as it gushes around his cock, as his body suctions to yours.

Teeth, sharp and brutal, nip harshly at your neck. “I like to think I’ve spoiled my boys, Y/N.” Your future in-law growls lowly in your ear. “They may not agree. But they didn’t want for nothin’. And I still like to indulge ‘em, every now and again.”

Shinjuro’s rough hand reaches under you to palm at your tits. “You love being a big brother, don’t you, Kyojuro? How about I put a new baby brother in your fiancé’s womb for ya? How’s that for a gift?”

You clench hard, your stomach nearly convulsing at how tightly you grip onto the thick cock bullying relentlessly into you right as Kyojuro looses a great, cracked moan.

“What my boy wants, he gets.” Shinjuro sounds so casual as he peels himself off you, straightening back up on his knees. One hand moves to press down on your lower back, deepening the arch of your spine until your ass returns to its position high in the air.

His grip on your hips tightens with bruising force as he resumes jerking you back to meet his movements. “You ready to beg yet, sweetheart? You gonna let me breed this tight little cunt? Give your fiancé a new brother to spoil?”

You hardly recognize any of the sounds pouring out of you, unable to concentrate on anything but the way the ache in your groin deepens, your desperate need to be filled becoming damn near painful.

Behind you, Shinjuro chuffs through gritted teeth. “Yeah, you’d like that, huh? You’d love walking around, plump and round with your father-in-law’s bastard, wouldn’t ya? It’d be your dirty little secret.”

There’s a frenzy to his movements now, the more Shinjuro becomes lost in his own fantasy. His balls slap harshly against your clit, the coarse thicket of his hair scraping against your raw flesh as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten. “Everyone would see you and my boy together and think such lovely things; a new family starting out. No one would know — no one would guess that you were pregnant because of how much you like bending over for your fiancé’s old man to let him breed you like the sow you are.”

The image of it — of you, attending some fancy gala with Kyojuro, happy and glowing while his father’s baby grows steadily in your stomach — has you throwing your hips back, circling and grinding with a desperation that makes your fiancé’s father laugh, harsh and bitter.

The sound only makes you clench harder around him. God, you need it; him, of all fucking people.

Shinjuro.

“Please, please, please —!” The request rolls freely off your tongue before you can think the better of it. Across the room, Kyojuro cries out, as wanton and desperate as you.

“Please,” Shinjuro mocks. “Please what?”

“A baby — give me a baby, please! Oh please please —“

“You want to give me another son, huh? Fucking mine isn’t enough for you?”

“Yes!” You sob, the skin of your cheek burning where it mashes against the rug, but you’re far too gone to care. “A son, please, oh please put a son in me! I want to be good, let me be good —“

You’ll do it, you’ll give the Rengoku family as many heirs as they need to know your worth; to know that Kyojuro made the right choice when he got down on one knee and presented you with a ring worth more than your own salary.

“Bout damn time you see things our way,” Shinjuro growls, and he shifts forward, planting one foot by your knee. “I’ll stuff you full.”

He bends over you again, his chest forcing your back to flatten, and you nearly drool at the coarse prickle of chest hair where it rubs between your shoulders.

The scent of woodsmoke and fine whisky clouds your head. “Tell me, do you think my son will still fuck you even while you’re carrying his brother?” Shinjuro’s eyes dart to where Kyojuro sits, his head thrown back and thighs spread wide as he pumps himself, a deep, drawn-out moan rumbling in his chest.

Shinjuro conceals his grin against the side of your head, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “Yeah, I think he will. Your pussy’s too fuckin’ sweet to resist, isn’t that right, Kyojuro?”

“Yes.” Comes Kyojuro’s single reply, little more than a strained groan.

It’s too much; the obvious need in your fiancé’s voice coupled with the way his father so ruthlessly pumps into you, his cock stretching and filling you so perfectly as he hammers away all the right spots forces your eyes back into your head, your fingers clawing at the rug chafing your skin raw. The pressure in your stomach mounts until you feel almost ready to burst, every inch of you trembling as you wait for that familiar coil to spring.

Shinjuro swears lowly, once, sensing just how close you are to breaking apart, before he recovers.

“Just think, boy.” He calls out to his son, his voice boastful despite how he clenches his jaw. “Once her milk comes in, we won’t have to take turns having a taste. All we gotta do is sit her between us and each take a tit. Fun little father-son bonding. Whaddya say?”

Your eyes fly open. The image of it — of you straddled between the two Rengokus, both mouthing hotly at your swollen, aching breasts while your stomach sits round and full with a child that might have been fathered by one as much as the other — is your undoing.

Somewhere in the depths of the Rengoku ancestral estate, Kyojuro’s brother sleeps. You can only hope that his slumber remains peaceful, given the loud, cracked scream that rips free from you, burning your throat as your climax slams into you like a freight.

The coil in your stomach does not unwind; it explodes, blows apart in a mess of shrapnel capped with prolonged cry as your walls squeeze around your lover’s father’s thick, demanding cock.

“Oh fuck, she’s good,” Shinjuro throws his head back, eyes rolling into his head at the way your cunt seizes around him like a vice. “Harder, Y/N. Your father in law wants you to cum fuckin’ harder.”

One hand unlatches itself from its bruising grip at your hip, curling under you. Shinjuro pinches your clit firmly between the roughened pads of his fingers and your stomach seizes. A violent spasm of hot, searing pleasure rips sharply through your groin, sparking gush of sticky fluid to spring forth and coat the rug below.

“Daddy!” You cry out, too fucked out of your mind to fully register what has escaped your mouth; the slip you’ve made.

Daddy is reserved for Kyojuro — and under specific circumstances. Only after you’d been your most difficult, your most rotten, such that Kyojuro knew you were baiting him, waiting for him to pin you down and give you exactly what you wanted and set you right. Only after you were looking up at him through glassy eyes, so unbelievably fucked out of your head did the word Daddy ever leave your lips.

In a way, you suppose those conditions were present here. After all, it was your fiance who suggested you’d pranced around the Rengoku ancestral estate in your red dress to frustrate both him and his father. And Shinjuro is, in fact, fucking you halfway to hell and back, your brain having nearly liquified in your skull.

So really, he can’t fault you for getting your wires crossed.

“Daddy! Fuck — oh fuck, yes, yes, Daddy, daddy —!”

Kyojuro moans back in response, and that single sound — a ragged, pleasure-delirious thing — only makes you clamp down harder around his father’s thick cock.

“Yeah,” Shinjuro snorts, his laugh dark and cruel. “Yeah, I’m your fuckin’ daddy, aren’t I?”

You continue to howl for him until your voice gives out, quieting down in time with the slow ebbing of your climax, your body turning limp limb by limb. When the last of your orgasm echoes through you, you nearly collapse prostrate into the rug. You would have, if not for the bruising grip of hands latched firmly to your hips, keeping you in place.

You’re only permitted to relax for a moment before Shinjuro decides it’s time for him to make good on his oath to fuck a son into you.

A single, long draw of his hips nearly pulls his cock free of your sopping heat. But before that can happen, Shinjuro’s fingers dig into the fleshy part above your waist and without warning, he slams back into you, hard and brutal.

Air wheezes out of your lungs and you’re forced out of your post-orgasm haze, yanked right from the clouds of bliss and dropped back in the study as he repeats the movement once, twice.

You scramble to find purchase, your arm flailing out before you as you scramble to find purchase. Before you can, however, one rough, callused hand wraps firmly around your bicep, holding you down against the floor. The other snakes to your wrist and wrenches that arm behind your back, pinning it in place at the bottom of your spine.

And Shinjuro fucks you. Hard. Even more so than before.

You’re utterly at his mercy; little more than a toy, bouncing between his body and the floor of his sprawling study as Shinjuro chases his release. Your legs will be rubbed raw with friction, both from the rug beneath your knees and your hamstrings where Shinjuro’s thighs press firmly into yours, his hair as coarse and wild as what grows from his head.

Behind you, the elder Rengoku’s breaths have turned ragged.

“Hold her — fuck — hold her down like this when you cum.”

Whereas Kyojuro’s climaxes are always accompanied by loud, strangled groans, euphoric and lilting, Shinjuro comes with a deep, snarling grunt. With a final, bruising thrust, fiancés father-bottoms out inside you. His hips shove heavily into yours, pushing hard against your ass as he presses his cock as deep as possible. The force of it bends your spine, making Shinjuro distribute half his weight between his hips and his arms where he holds you down. He comes as powerfully as he’d claimed you, his orgasm every bit as punishing and relentless as the rest of him.

Your eyes roll back into your head at the first spurt of his cum, your mouth falling open. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth, trickling down your cheek and dampening the fibers of the rug.

Deep; your father-in-law’s cock is so fucking deep in you, his cum hot and thick as it coats your womb. Distantly, you hear the pleasured cry of Kyojuro as he reaches his own climax, his seed spilling hot and fast over his fist as he watches his father unload himself inside you.

“Feel me pulsing, doll?” Shinjuro grits through clenched teeth. “That’s me puttin’ our next heir in you.”

The only response you can manage is a faint moan. It takes a moment for you to feel it; the tell-tale gush of cum that always leaks out of you after you’ve been filled, tangible proof of how thoroughly you’d been claimed. And it strikes you that the delay is the result of how deep inside of you Shinjuro had been when he came.

Deeper, you silently concede, albeit begrudgingly, than Kyojuro has ever reached.

But then it comes; a thick trickle of hot fluid spilling over where your bodies are connected, Shinjuro’s balls twitching against your throbbing clit as he continues to unload himself inside you. Dizzy with the pleasure of feeling his cum, so warm and viscous, you cant your hips back into his, mewling your gratitude.

Full; you’re so very full of your father-in-law’s cock and cum. So very sated.

There’s a triumphant exhale behind you, and you don’t need to turn to know Shinjuro wears that self-satisfied smirk of his, the one he always had whenever he successfully trounced his son in front of an audience. His hand releases its crushing grip on the wrist he’d pinned behind your back in favor of rubbing your ass where it circles against his base, though whether it’s out of appreciation for you or a further brag to his son, you can’t say.

The elder Rengoku holds himself in place for a moment longer, ensuring every last drop of his seed is properly deposited into your waiting womb. Only when he’s satisfied nothing remains, does he pull out, not bothering to give you any warning as your body spasms and winces at the loss of his warmth.

The air at your back turns cool, no longer invaded by his lumbering body. A chill snakes down your spine at the sudden draftiness of the study as the sweat glistening along your back and staining your dress cools. Some of your awareness — and your contempt — returns to you as the spell cast over you by Shinjuro dissipates. You focus on each muscle of your body, identifying what you’re still able to love as you prepare to push yourself up from the floor, when two, broad hands latch around your waist.

Shinjuro cares not for your small whimpers and whines as he forces you to turn around on your raw knees, not letting you rest until your rear faces Kyojuro.

“There, that’s a properly bred pussy,” Shinjuro announces with a not-so-gentle smack of his hand against your swollen, dripping folds. “Take a look, son.”

A derisive snort shoves its way through your nose. Of course, it isn’t enough for Shinjuro to have fucked his son’s fiance right in front of him; now he has to show off his work.

But do you resist? Of course not, nor does Kyojuro protest, panting as he comes down from his own high where he sits near the fireplace.

“See that?” Two rough fingers catch a thick bead of Shinjuro’s cum as it slides down your inner thigh. “You want a baby? Don’t let a single drop go to waste. Fingers or your cock, it doesn’t matter — just make sure it stays inside.”

You focus on calming your own breathing, relief settling into your bones as Shinjuro pulls his hand away at last.

A moment passes, undisturbed except for the labor of your mutual breathing, when Shinjuro breaks the silence once more.

“But I’m gonna let you fuck my seed back into her.”

And with that, he leaves you crumpled helplessly on the floor, departing only with a sharp smack to your ass, still held high in the air.

He motions for Kyojuro to move and confounding, his son complies, half-jumping out of the leather armchair in his haste, his pants around his knees. Wordlessly, Shinjuro settles into his seat, one arm folded behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand wraps around his drooling cock, still hard and shiny with the combination of your cum and his.

“Go on, boy,” the elder Rengoku juts his chin to where you lay limp on the floor, your red dress pulled down bunched around your waist. He gives himself a firm pump with his fist and his mouth settles into a leering smirk. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

I’ll see you all in hell

[nanamiscocksleeve]

I don't know how your "thirsty weekends" works, but all I'm thinking about now is #16- glory hole with sylus.

That's exactly how Thirsty Weekends works! You pick a prompt and a character and inbox me!

And I had so much fun writing this! Hope you kinky kittens like reading it!

Glory hole

--------

There was a week left for your wedding with Sylus and you decided to surprise your fiance with something you knew would please him immensely; a private glory hole, featuring you.

With the help of a friend, you'd gotten naked and slipped into a narrow box with holes on opposite sides, one for your pussy, another for your mouth, and two on the sides so that your tits could be groped. A sign had been posted over the side of the box saying 'use me'. You waited on your hands and knees in anticipation, growing wetter by the second knowing he'd be home any minute.

Your core tightens when you hear the click of the door, then your grin falters as you hear other people's voices, your heart leaping into your chest when you recognize them. A mix of men, all of Sylus's acquaintances; Rafayel, Xavier, and Zayne. Why were they here?

"Why is there a box in the middle of your living room? Did you get a pet?" Rafayel's voice fills the room and you panic, unsure what to do.

"It says 'use me' on the side of the box." Zayne's footsteps can be heard approaching the box and your eyes widen as you try to think what to do.

"Sylus you didn't plan something did you? Like some sort of final wild party before getting hitched?" You hear Xavier ask in disbelief. Your eyes are glued to the limited view from the holes in the side of the box and you recognize Sylus's expensive shoes as he approaches, then dips a hand in through the side, finding your breast and squeezing.

"It appears it's a final present before I say goodbye to my bachelorhood gentleman," Sylus says smoothly as he withdraws his hand and you feel your senses float out of your body, leaving you weak. What was going to happen now?

"Enjoy yourselves."

Before you can comprehend what's happening a cock is shoved into the hole near your mouth. It was a nice organ, but you hesitate, then hear the voices outside. "Nothing's happening Sylus!"

You weigh your options. You could end this right now and have everyone see you like this. But also...something about the anonymity appealed to you. You give a tentative lick to the cock before taking it into your mouth. The action causes the person to let out a groan and the group jeers. "Is the whore in the box good Rafayel?"

You let out a squeak of surprise as hands come in from both sides and roughly grab your boobs, squeezing and pulling at your nipples. Stuck and unable to turn in the narrow space, you're helpless to do anything except take it. You moan against the meat in your mouth as another hand enters the back hole, a finger tracing your folds before it pushes into your cunt, fingering you from behind.

The sudden assault on your body brought a powerful turn on that your weren't expecting. They had no idea who was in here and the thought of being used was filling your brain with a haze of sexual need. Rafayel suddenly withdraws and another cock, longer and thicker this time, enters the glory hole. You suck it without hesitation and the men whistle.

"Damn Zayne, the way your eyes rolled I thought she sucked the soul from your body!"

You moan and whine and whimper as they squeeze and abuse every inch of your body that they could reach through the holes then gasp as you hear Sylus ask, "Who wants the honor of fucking her first?"

You hear condom wrappers being ripped open and before you could think, a cock starts to penetrate you from behind, splitting you open around it's covered girth. You let out a needy groan and the men laugh.

"Sounds like she's having a good time!" You wished you could rub your clit as you were getting fucked but the box was too narrow for you to reach so you settle for having your nipples tweaked and pulled. Another cock enters the glory hole and you obediently take it into your mouth, bobbing your head and letting your pussy be abused to their liking. You can feel whoever is using you getting close to their climax, then feel their cock twitch and shoot it's load, caught by the condom before it's withdrawn from your slick depths.

You barely had time to recover when another cock pushes in, and you feel your senses heighten because you recognize this one; it's unmistakably Sylus, and his cock adjusts inside you to graze against your g spot with each stroke. Your voice now becomes a pathetic string of moans as he gets your sweet spot each time. In your sensitized state, you cum immediately, a loud keening sound ripping from your throat and echoing through the box as you climax. There's cheering for Sylus as he withdraws.

You take two more cocks after this, and service everyone for a few more rounds before all the men decide they've had their fill. With sighs of satisfaction, they leave, thanking Sylus for the evening's entertainment and wishing his good luck with his wedding.

You lay there, covered in sweat, your pussy sloppy from being used so many times, wondering if you could somehow escape out of the box now that everyone had left, then yelp in surprise as the panel on the side is lifted up, and Sylus smirks down at you. Your face turns red as he assesses you before slowly lifting you out of your confines, settling down on the sofa with you on his lap.

"Did you have fun sweetie?" he asks, chuckling as you hide your face in his neck.

"You knew it was me?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you stop it then?"

"Did you not like it?"

"I...I did..."

"Then what's the problem?" Sylus presses a kiss to your head. "My sweet bride, do you think I was unaware of your fantasy to be used as a glory hole? I thought it would be best for you to get it out of your system before you officially become my wife. And you just made it so easy tonight."

He laughs heartily as you punch his arm, your face turning a brilliant shade of crimson before kissing you senseless.

---

I am horny and need an immediate gangbang from all of them now *hides face*

[mustainegf]

SUMMARY: James has a fantasy, involving you and his motorcycle….

𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 ¹⁹⁹⁹

I could hear the garage door closing and the sound of James motorcycle revving.

I jumped up and scampered my way to the garage to greet him. He's been working with the San Francisco symphony recently for a Metallica concert.

I open the door to the garage and step inside, my eyes landing on my handsome fiance. James took off his helmet and smiled at me "Hey, ba by." he said. 'Hi!" I squealed. "How was your ride?" I smiled, walking down the steps the greet him.

"It was alright, glad to be home with you though," he hummed, taking my waist as he pecked my lips.

I could already sense by his tone that he was in a needy mood and I reciprocated, cupping his cheek and smiling into the kiss before lightly pulling away.

"You know.." he began playfully, "I've been having this fantasy... allilll day..." he says lowly.

My heart skips a beat in anticipation.

"Ok... and what's that?" I purr curiously.

"Bending you over my bike..." he trails off. I laugh a little, stepping back a bit to let him close the garage door then moving back in front of him.

My hand goes to his crotch, giving it a gentle squeeze through his jeans. "And then what happens?" I tease.

"Then I fuck you..,' he growls, reaching around me to grab my ass and squeeze.

A rush of arousal passes through me and I bite my lip, feeling slightly lightheaded. 'Mhmm, and you've been thinking about this all day?" I ask teasingly.

His hand rubs my hip as he leans forward to speak in my ear "Ever since we talked on the phone today, I've been so hard from thinking about doing it," he groans, taking a step closer and pushing his erection against my thigh. I smile up at him and feel myself becoming wetter just from being this close to him.

"I'm all for it.." I whisper seductively.

He smiles devilishly, kissing my neck softly. "Come on then, bend over."

I giggle and do as he commands, facing towards his beautiful ride. He kisses my spine softly as he places his hands on either side of my hips, bending me down until my head is resting on the handlebars.

"Take your shirt off babe," he instructs, starting to unbuckle his belt. Without hesitation I raise my arms above my head and remove my top, letting it fall.

"Take your shirt off babe," he instructs, starting to unbuckle his belt. Without hesitation I raise my arms above my head and remove my top, letting it fall to the floor behind me.

"God, you look hot," he hums, quickly stripping out of his pants, leaving them in a pile on the ground. The feeling of his warm breath caressing my bare back makes me shiver a little.

James meanders down my body and tugs my pants down with a soft moan.

"Wearing your pretty lingerie just for me, baby?"

he asks huskily. "Of course," I respond dreamily.

"Such a good girl." he whispers.

He lifts one leg at a time and pulls my shoes off, placing them next to his pants and mine. Now completely naked except for my lingerie, James grabs my hips once again.

"See that? see how desperate I've been for you all day?" he groans, giving his cock a few lazy strokes. He is visibly throbbing and already leaking with pre-cum.

He reaches down and spreads my legs wider with his foot, pressing himself flush between my thighs. "Ooohhhhhh shit," he grunts, grinding harder into me. We both whimper in pleasure.

With the suddenness of a bear mauling its prey, he slams himself deep inside me in one thrust. I gasp loudly, clutching the handlebars tightly as a spike shoots through me.

He doesn't waste any time fucking me like an animal, using every inch of his length and spreading my juices everywhere.

James's dick feels amazing sliding easily in and out of my heat. "Look at you, so pretty, all fucked out already on my bike..."

he says in a voice full of lust. The sound of our skin slapping together echoes throughout the garage.

It sounds so dirty and erotic. I cry out loud whenever he hits a certain spot deep inside. James grunts a little when I try to push back against him but it only makes him pound me even harder.

I don't think there has ever been anything more intimate than making love on his bike. Something about the imagery of us, naked on his beautiful Harley Davidson gives me butterflies.

"So pretty... you and this fuckin' bike... so gorgeous."

"James... James!" I whine out, gripping at the leather of the seat.

"Fuck, you look so sexy on my bike..." James groans loudly, throwing his head back.

His balls slap my clit every time he bottoms out. My pussy is so wet and ready for his seed. "I'm gonna cum, James!" I yell, clinging to the bike for dear life.

"Cum all over my bike baby.." He moans right back at me, holding me by the waist tight and slamming deeper into me. I buck wildly against him, humping his shaft with everything I've got.

I cant stop myself or even get a thought in before I'm cumming, squirting over his cock and bike, the juices dripping down the glimmering silver metal.

That was enough to push James over and he lets out a growl, shooting rope after rope of thick semen into me. We pant heavily as we catch our breath.

After a few moments he begins pumping slowly in and out of me, enjoying the sensation of my pulsating walls squeezing his cock and milking every drop out.

James smirks playfully at me. "Gonna have to get some leather cleaner tomorrow," he chuckles softly.

I blush bright red, shaking my head in agreement. James removes his member gently from my drenched entrance. A small trail of cum drips down my leg, coating his bike seat with its warm sticky texture.

"You're such a mess... let's go clean up..." he murmurs sweetly, running his finger along my cheek.

[bangtanficsforyou]

Hello, Love! (JJK)- 03

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don’t know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister’s fiance wasn’t it.

Word count: 6.2K

Warning: for this chapter; there's some heavy mentions of drugs. Except, for that, there's so much happening 😩.

Fun fact: the picture in the middle is actually a screenshot of a scene from the movie this series is based upon 🤭

Series Masterlist

“Any update?”

“Sir, we haven’t heard anything back yet.”

Jungkook sighs, having expected that answer. “Keep trying to contact them, and as soon as you hear anything back from them, let me know.”

He emphasizes the word anything because at this point, he genuinely believes rejection would be better than being kept hanging. At least, a rejection would help him have a practical understanding of the scenario and remaining options.

“And how are the preparations for the party going?”

“Sir, we have arranged most of the things, if you like you can pay us a visit and inspect things yourself,” his manager replies.

“Yeah, maybe after my meeting with Mr. Han, I’ll drop by at the hotel,” Jungkook nods to himself, thinking that, that will be the ideal way to go about things. “Remember, everything should be perfect. If everything goes as planned, I’m sure Riya will be impressed.”

“Don’t worry sir, we will look after it.”

You wake up to the sound of your alarm.  

You look around, taking in the room, and notice the soft blankets that are currently wrapped around you. For a moment, your mind feels blurry, having no recollection of last night whatsoever. However, once the memories come back to you, you relax into the soft mattress and sigh at the comfort.

Your eyes start drifting again and you feel this weird sense of giddiness at the thought of having slept so comfortably after ages. Unfortunately, you are stopped from going back to the world of dreams by a constant dribbling of a ball against the floor.

You frown and raise your head slightly to figure out what is causing the noise. From the slight space that the open door leaves, you see a young kid playing with a small ball.

The sight causes you to jolt awake.

You quickly grab your handbag, which was thankfully lying right next to your bedside. You shuffle through your bag and heave a huge sigh of relief upon finding the item you were looking for; a golf sized ball.

It’s safe, you think to yourself and put the ball back in its place.

Knowing that the drowsiness you were trying to lean into, is gone, you decide that it would be smart to utilize the time to reply to any texts or e-mails you might have received.

However, your face drops when you see the notification of several missed calls on your home screen. Your entire body freezes in panic, and you feel an overwhelming sense of fear take over your body.

You gulp and press the ‘call back’ button.

You don’t think that the call goes past even one ring before it’s picked up on the other side.

A very panicked and worried voice greets you. “Y/N, yǒu gēngxīn ma?” Y/N, any update? 

You shake your head, “hái méiyǒu.” Not yet.

“Qǐng jǐn nǐ suǒ néng. Xùnsù de. Fǒuzé yīqiè dūhuì huǐ diào.” Please do whatever you can. Quickly. Or else everything will get ruined

“Wǒ zhèngzài jìnlì. Bié dānxīn, wǒ huì xiǎng bànfǎ de.” I'm trying my best. Don't worry, I'll figure something out.

As you cut the call, you’re left with nothing but a pile of emotions that you have no idea how to deal with. You rub your temples and try to take a few deep breaths in hopes that this feeling of being paralyzed would pass.

However, you give up within less than a minute, and at the very next moment, you find yourself shuffling through your bag again. 

Open app

bangtanficsforyou

Hello, Love! (JJK)-03

New

4 days ago

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don’t know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister’s fiance wasn’t it.

Word count: 6.2K

Warning: for this chapter; there's some heavy mentions of drugs. Except, for that, there's so much happening 😩.

Fun fact: the picture in the middle is actually a screenshot of a scene from the movie this series is based upon 🤭

“Any update?”

“Sir, we haven’t heard anything back yet.”

Jungkook sighs, having expected that answer. “Keep trying to contact them, and as soon as you hear anything back from them, let me know.”

He emphasizes the word anything because at this point, he genuinely believes rejection would be better than being kept hanging. At least, a rejection would help him have a practical understanding of the scenario and remaining options.

“And how are the preparations for the party going?”

“Sir, we have arranged most of the things, if you like you can pay us a visit and inspect things yourself,” his manager replies.

“Yeah, maybe after my meeting with Mr. Han, I’ll drop by at the hotel,” Jungkook nods to himself, thinking that, that will be the ideal way to go about things. “Remember, everything should be perfect. If everything goes as planned, I’m sure Riya will be impressed.”

“Don’t worry sir, we will look after it.”

You wake up to the sound of your alarm.  

You look around, taking in the room, and notice the soft blankets that are currently wrapped around you. For a moment, your mind feels blurry, having no recollection of last night whatsoever. However, once the memories come back to you, you relax into the soft mattress and sigh at the comfort.

Your eyes start drifting again and you feel this weird sense of giddiness at the thought of having slept so comfortably after ages. Unfortunately, you are stopped from going back to the world of dreams by a constant dribbling of a ball against the floor.

You frown and raise your head slightly to figure out what is causing the noise. From the slight space that the open door leaves, you see a young kid playing with a small ball.

The sight causes you to jolt awake.

You quickly grab your handbag, which was thankfully lying right next to your bedside. You shuffle through your bag and heave a huge sigh of relief upon finding the item you were looking for; a golf sized ball.

It’s safe, you think to yourself and put the ball back in its place.

Knowing that the drowsiness you were trying to lean into, is gone, you decide that it would be smart to utilize the time to reply to any texts or e-mails you might have received.

However, your face drops when you see the notification of several missed calls on your home screen. Your entire body freezes in panic, and you feel an overwhelming sense of fear take over your body.

You gulp and press the ‘call back’ button.

You don’t think that the call goes past even one ring before it’s picked up on the other side.

A very panicked and worried voice greets you. “Y/N, yǒu gēngxīn ma?” Y/N, any update? 

You shake your head, “hái méiyǒu.” Not yet.

“Qǐng jǐn nǐ suǒ néng. Xùnsù de. Fǒuzé yīqiè dūhuì huǐ diào.” Please do whatever you can. Quickly. Or else everything will get ruined

“Wǒ zhèngzài jìnlì. Bié dānxīn, wǒ huì xiǎng bànfǎ de.” I'm trying my best. Don't worry, I'll figure something out.

As you cut the call, you’re left with nothing but a pile of emotions that you have no idea how to deal with. You rub your temples and try to take a few deep breaths in hopes that this feeling of being paralyzed would pass.

However, you give up within less than a minute, and at the very next moment, you find yourself shuffling through your bag again. 

“Auntie, I only drink black tea,” one of Jungkook’s distant cousins declines politely.

Jungkook’s aunt only smiles in response and moves to the next person, offering them the milk tea.

“I am sorry, but I will have coffee,” comes the response.

Another polite smile from Shweta.

“I only drink black coffee.”

“Oh,” she responds and again moves on to the next person who so happens to be Jimin.

“I will have—“

“Shut up and drink it,” Jimin’s words are cut off immediately.

Jimin without a single protest picks up a cup and starts sipping on the tea. No matter what age, he knows better than to disobey his mother when she is annoyed.

“What’s wrong with a simple milk tea?” she mumbles to herself on her way back to the kitchen. “Back in our day,—“

Her words come to a halt when a loud bang of a door opening with more force than required, resonates through the entire living room. The sound catches everyone’s attention and the usually loud room goes quiet.

And then you walk in through the door.

You walk in without any awareness of the eyes on you and make your way straight to the dining table. Pulling out a chair, you take a seat. You grab a bottle of water and instead of pouring yourself a glass, you start drinking directly and empty the bottle.

Then, you look at the breakfast that has been arranged on the table and take two slices of bread and start spreading butter on them. Once done you look around for the salt pot and find it resting on the table, away from your reach.

“Salt.” You speak the one word sentence to the old lady that has the container right next to her.

Everyone in the room breaks out of their trance of watching you and albeit a little weirded out, go back to what they were doing.

The old lady passes you the salt pot and she too, returns back to the conversation she was having with Jungkook’s mother (who is also sitting at the same table, a few chiars away) before your wild card entry.

“It is too hot today to go out shopping. Can we not go some other day?”

“I know, but there are absolutely no chances of the weather getting better any time soon,” Jungkook’s mother replies, sighing at the thought of having to step out in this heat. “Plus, we don’t have much time.The wedding is right around the corner.”

The older lady hums in understanding. “But we should visit a few shops first just to compare the prices and quality of clothes.”

“Don’t worry about that,” reassures Jungkook’s mother. “We will go to Mr. Roy’s showroom in Amy Avenue. They will give us everything at discounted rates and we won’t have to worry about the quality at all.”

“But who will take us there? The place is pretty far!”

“What a coincidence!” You speak up suddenly, mid-chew. “I’m also going there. You guys can come with me.”

Another round of silence falls in the room.

“But dear, who are you?”

You look up at the old lady upon hearing her question.

First blink.

Second blink.

Third blink.

“Who are you?” You shoot her question back, instead of answering her.

The lady frowns, finding your tone rude. “I am Jimin’s grandmother.”

“I am Jimin’s friend.”

Jimin’s eyes almost pop out of his sockets at your sudden declaration. This is the first time he is getting to know about your existence. How can you be his friend?

Jimin’s mother steps out of the kitchen quickly at the mention of her son’s name. “You are Jimin’s friend? He never mentioned you before.”

You simply shrug as if to convey that it is not your business to wonder about the strangeness of Jimin not mentioning you before.

“So where do you stay?” Aunt Shweta queries further, finding her curiosity spike at the information of her son having a girl friend she has never heard of before.

“People’s Republic of China.”

“Make sure—“ Jungkook’s sentence is cut off mid way when the sound of your voice reaches his ears. “I’ll call you later.” He promptly cuts the call and rushes out of his room.

“Ch-China?” Shweta is perplexed, thinking she is hearing things wrong. “Jimin has never stepped out of this city.”

Jimin looks around in confusion having no clue whatsoever as to what he’s supposed to do. It is then that he sees Jungkook rushing out of his room. The moment his eyes lock with Jungkook’s, Jungkook puts a finger on his mouth asking Jimin to stay quiet and play along.

Jimin glares at Jungkook, realizing that he has somehow become the scapegoat, again.

“How did you two meet?” This time the question is aimed at Jimin, as his mother seems to be totally confused by this revelation. Since, when did his son start making girl friends from other countries? And how? 

Jimin gulps, knowing he will have to face the  MID (mother-investigation-department) later. “O-online?”

Jimin’s words come out more as a question than as an answer and this only heightens his mother’s confusion.

“Online?” She asks, reflecting her son’s unsurety.

Jimin looks at Jungkook who is thankfully hidden from Shweta’s view and as Jungkook nods, he looks back at his mother. “Yes, online.”

Shweta looks at Jimin with a look that clearly says that he has got a lot of explaining to do. She then looks back at you to ask you something, but decides otherwise upon realizing that you seem entirely focused on eating your breakfast.

And that marks the end of the conversation.

Everything resumes back to normal. Shweta heads back to the kitchen. Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief. Jimin convinces himself he shouldn’t murder Jungkook right before his wedding.

However, unbeknownst to everyone, two people in particular have taken a certain interest in you.

One, Tae Oh, Jungkook’s maternal cousin.

Two, Jeon Baek Hyeon, Jungook’s father.

There are a total of three cars. The one in which you’re currently seated in has you in the passenger seat, with Tae Oh and Jungkook’s mother in the middle row.

Jungkook takes a peek inside the car and sees that his mother is on the phone with someone while Tae Oh is listening to some music with his earbuds plugged in. He takes this opportunity to speak to you.

“Listen,” he whispers. “Please don’t let them know who you are.”

You look at him, over the rim of your sunglasses, which rest on the bridge of your nose. “Who am I?”

Jungkook looks at you as if the answer to that question should be obvious. “You’re Riya’s sister.”

You nod at him and with a click of a button, pull the windows of your seat up.

“I-Wha?—”, Jungkook knocks on the window, asking you to pull it back down.

You look at Jungkook and then look at the driver who is currently in the process of turning the engine on. Then you look back at Jungkook and shoot him a two-finger salute as a way of bidding him goodbye as the car takes off.

Jungkook stares at the now moving car and wonders as to what turn of events will this shopping day-out take.

In the fifteen minutes that the car has been on the road, you have finished an entire bottle of water. A fact that Jungkook’s mother finds concerning.

“Dear, are you okay?” she asks wondering if you’re drinking so much water because you’re not feeling well. With the sunglasses that you have on, she cannot even read your expressions properly.  

You look at her through the rearview mirror. “I’m as okay as a squirrel with an acorn stash for winter.”

Jungkook’s mother is confused by your choice of words but decides that you must be intending to convey that you’re alright. She nods, although the worried frown on her face refuses to go away.

Tae Oh on the other hand, keeps stealing glances at you, through the rearview mirror. You’re the prettiest girl he has ever seen. When he realizes that  you’re humming some song to yourself, he decides it’s his time to shine.

He clears his throat. “Auntie, you know right I was about to be the next big music idol?”

“Is it so?” Jungkook’s mother queries. As someone who is trained in classical music, she finds herself interested in this conversation.

“Yes,” Tae Oh confirms. “Unfortunately, the judges didn’t have the depth to understand my style of singing.”

“What song did you sing?” You ask, now looking back at him through the rearview.

“Wannabe,” he replies, feeling shy now that you’re directly speaking to him.

“By spice girls?”

“Yes,” he replies, sounding proud and confident about his ong choice. “Would you like a demo?”

“Sure.”

The clearing of his throat is the only warning Jungkook’s mother gets.

"Ha ha ha ha ha—YO, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!"

He starts aggressively beatboxing, but it’s not beatboxing so much as random noises that sound like a train derailing. He keeps going anyway, hands waving like he's orchestrating a symphony.

Suddenly, you join and start "beatboxing" along—by loudly spitting sounds that vaguely resemble a wet cat sneezing."Pfffsh—tch-tch—PFFFssh-tch-tch!"

Tae Oh, not realizing the absolute disaster unfolding, presses on, getting  way too into the song. He sings the next line, stomping his foot like he’s a rockstar who just broke out his big hit. "So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!"

You are nodding along aggressively.  "I’ll tell you what I want—what I really, really want!"

You both are absolutely butchering the rhythm, singing in completely different beats. Tae Oh continues dramatically, as if he’s hitting the high note of a power ballad. You are adding extra "ha’s" where they don’t belong. "I WANNA, (ha), I WANNA, (ha), I WANNA, (ha)!" 

You try to match him but totally miss. "PFFFT—ha ha—PFFT—zigazig ahhhhh!" 

Jungkook’s mother watches in utter disbelief, frozen in shock. Nothing could have ever prepared her for this. It's like a car wash you just have to see through to the end.

You both try to keep the song going, but at this point, you both are so off-key and off-beat that it’s devolved into a chaotic mix of random noises and misplaced beats.

"If you wanna be my lover—YOU GOTTA GET WITH MY FRIENDS!"

“Because—“

"FRIENDSHIP NEVER ENDS!" You both belt out, together.

“Nice try.” You give Tae Oh a nod of approval as the duet comes to an end, who smiles back shyly at you.

Jungkook’s mother reminds herself to close her mouth which was wide open during the entirety of your performance.

On a brighter side, at least now she’s assured that you aren’t feeling sick.

Jungkook sits in a sleek, modern reception area, fidgeting with a notepad in his hands. Dressed in a crisp suit, his leg bounces nervously as he mentally revises his speech for the upcoming meeting. His lips move slightly as he murmurs the rehearsed lines to himself.

"Right. I just need to be clear, confident... just ask directly, no big deal..."

The door to the office opens. A tall, authoritative man, Mr. Han, steps in, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Jungkook. Jungkook stands, straightening his jacket and putting on his best business smile.

"Jungkook, I presume?"

Jungkook bows slightly. "Yes, sir. It’s an honour to meet you."

They exchange firm handshakes. Jungkook gestures toward the chairs, and they both sit down. Just as Mr. Han opens his mouth to begin, Jungkook’s phone buzzes loudly. He glances at it – and realizes it's Riya. His brow furrows. He hesitates, then looks at Mr. Han.

"Sir, if you could please excuse me for a minute."

"Oh yes, absolutely."

Jungkook receives the call and speaks in a hushed tone. "Hey, Riya, I’m in the middle of—"

"Which guesthouse did you drop Y/N at?"

Both Riya and Jungkook speak at the same time, although somehow, Jungkook’s words get drowned out.

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard. "Uh... I brought her to my place."

A beat of stunned silence follows on the other end, as Riya waits for Jungkook to add that he's joking. When he doesn’t, she loses her cool.

"What?! You brought her home?! She’s a drug addict, Jungkook, you cannot trust her with anything!" she exclaims. "Where is she now?"

"Relax!" Jungkook speaks calmly, even though the revelation of you being a drug addict shocks him. But he can’t sound panicked, not while sitting right in front of Mr. Han. "She’s just taken my family shopping at your dad’s showroom in Amy Avenue."

Riya gasps sharply, followed by a barrage of words. "Shopping?! Jungkook, you idiot! Alpesh Uncle is at the shop today—if he sees her, we’re in serious trouble!"

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he realizes the gravity of the situation. Panic begins to creep in as he nervously rubs the back of his neck.

"Alpesh Uncle... oh no. Okay, okay, don’t worry! I’ll fix this."

"You better fix it."

He quickly ends the call, his heart racing, and looks back at Mr. Han, who’s been politely waiting. His expression has shifted from professional to slightly puzzled.

"Is everything alright?" Mr. Han asks.

"Sure, sir," Jungkook forces a tight smile, though his mind is racing. "How is Mrs. Han?"

"Mrs. Han?" Mr. Han looks perplexed by the sudden change of topic but answers anyway. "There’s some medical issue, you know, with her gall bladder. But the doctor was also wondering if it’s related to her knee—"

Jungkook nods, trying to seem interested as Mr. Han goes on.

"—there’s a lot of pus that's collected there—"

"Sir, can I meet you after two hours?" Jungkook suddenly blurts out, unable to hide the stress building inside him.

"Today? I’m sorry, Jungkook, but I’m really busy today."

"Sir, can you give me six million dollars?" Jungkook cuts to the chase, knowing why he's really there. But before Mr. Han can respond, Jungkook starts gathering his files and stands up. "I’m sorry, sir, I have to leave. It’s an emergency."

Mr. Han stares at him in utter confusion as Jungkook rushes out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. 

Jungkook bursts through the hotel doors, adjusting his suit jacket as he hails a taxi. He jumps inside, running a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the chaos he's just unleashed.

The sun hangs high over Amy Avenue, casting a warm glow on the busy street. Lively storefronts line the avenue, and the air is filled with the sounds of chatter and laughter. In the midst of the hustle, is you, who leads Jungkook’s family in a single-file line, a colorful chain of chaos and utter confusion.

You stand at the front, a beacon of energy and casual confidence. Your dark hair sways as you turn back to check on the group, your hands raised to maintain the chain. The family follows your lead, though not without fair share of difficulties.

"Come on, everyone! Let’s stick together! Hold hands tight!" You shout.

Behind you, Jungkook’s family members talk animatedly among themselves. The line weaves slightly, and a few members begin to pull away from the chain.

"Hey, don’t pull so hard! I’m not made of rubber!" Aunt Young grumbles.

"Watch out! We’re going to bump into a car!" Uncle Choi says, nervously.

The street is bustling, and the noise only adds to the jovial confusion. You glance over your shoulder, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Just a little further! We’re almost at the showroom! You’re all doing great!"

You look at the entrance of the showroom which although is now visible, still remains a few meters away. You turn around and face your followers and address them. “You see that? That’s our destination. A few steps more and we will get there. Don’t stop now.”

You speak like a coach motivating their team on how to win a champion’s trophy.

As you all approach the entrance of the showroom, Alpesh Uncle steps out. Adjusting his glasses he squints at the screen of his mobile. “Lord knows, what happens to the tower.”

“C’mon, c’mon. Just a few steps more.” With the volume at which you’re speaking, it’s all thanks to the hustle of the market that your voice doesn’t reach Alpesh uncle.

“Hello? Hello? Is my voice audible?” Alpesh uncle speaks loudly into the phone but when he is met with silence, he removes the phone from his ear and waves it in the air in a zig-zag motion, hoping that it will catch the tower.

“Very good! Very good!” You encourage with your back facing the showroom, motioning your hands for the line to keep moving forward.

Alpesh uncle is about to go inside his showroom, having given up on trying to find the mobile tower when he spots Jungkook’s mother in the crowd. “Ah! Look who it is!” He exclaims cheerfully, and starts climbing down the small flight of stairs that connects the street to the showroom.

Now, the entire family’s attention has shifted to Alpesh uncle, the line has broken as everyone comes forward to greet him and you’re about to turn around when you feel a firm hand grip your arm and yank you with a swift tug.

Before you can react you come in contact with a hard chest and you look up to realize that it’s Jungkook, whose attention is fixed on his family and Alpesh uncle greeting each other, having totally missed your sudden disappearance.

“Let go!” You snap trying to free yourself from his grasp but his arms only tighten around you.

“Shh,” he looks at you, a sense of urgency in his eyes as he waits for Alpesh uncle to go inside along with his family. “Alpesh uncle is here and you cannot be seen by him.”

“But I need to go and talk to him,” you argue, although Jungkook pays no attention to your words even though you keep squirming in his hold. “Let me go!”

Jungkook watches as one by one everyone starts getting inside. He sees Aunt Young and aunt Shweta discussing among themselves and looking around, most likely searching for you, before they, too go inside.

It is only when he’s sure that it is safe that he releases you.

That was a close call.

Jungkook stands outside Riya's vanity van, his hands gripping the door frame as he leans in slightly. His eyes flicker to you, who sits a few feet away on a folding chair, quietly eating from a plate of food meant for the cast and crew and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration.  “There were full of mosquitoes there, she wasn’t eating—”

“So you could have gotten her food. What was the need for you to bring her home?” Riya argues, from where she’s currently sitting inside the van with her hairstylist brushing her hair.

“She’s your sister, Riya,” Jungkook points out as if that should make it obvious why he brought you home.

“Exactly! She’s my sister,” Riya agrees to Jungkook’s statement but refuses to acknowledge the emotion behind his words. “Just do what you’re told to do.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing there is probably no point in having this conversation. Not to mention the fact that he still remains unaware as to why you were supposed to remain hidden from Alpesh uncle. He somehow figured that no one from your family except for Riya knows about your return, but he has absolutely no idea why Alpesh uncle spotting you would have been such a big deal. 

However, a shooting set is definitely not the place for that kind of conversation.

“Have you managed the funds yet?” Riya asks.

“I’m on it,” Jungkook replies, not mentioning that he left a very crucial meeting like a bride leaving the altar, right after receiving Riya’s call.

“Then please just focus on that.”

Jungkook sighs again and with a nod, takes his leave.

As he’s walking in your direction, he notices that you’re entirely focused on eating and he takes this opportunity to verify something.

He quickly changes his direction of walking and walks towards the parking lot. He unlocks his car and finds your bag lying on the passenger seat. He only has to unzip the first chain to find several small containers filled with pills.

A sick feeling spreads through his body and he quickly zips back your bag and places it exactly where it was before.

Slowly things start making sense to him.

The day when he met you at the hotel; you were completely absentminded and hardly bothered to pay heed to basic social cues. Whereas, when he drove you from the hotel back to his house, you were rather normal. You even remembered the fact that you both had met seven years ago.

Your odd behaviour could all be explained by you being under the influence of these pills.

Jungkook rubs his temples, feeling a headache surfacing.

After a few moments, he takes a deep breath, locks his car and heads back to the shooting set.

“Eat quickly we need to leave,” he takes a seat right next to where you’re sitting. However, now that he knows what he knows, it is like he has started to put the puzzle together and for some reason, a suspicion occurs in his mind when he realizes that you’re wearing your sunglasses. “Can you remove your sunglasses for a second?”

You stop eating and look up at him. “Why should I?”

“Just remove them,” Jungkook deadpans, running thin on patience.

You shrug and remove your glasses. Letting them hang from your shirt, you resume eating.

Jungkook watches you closely, and his suspicion is proven right when he notices that you’re blinking your eyes quite frequently. He does not recall this being the case when you were your normal self.

So, this fast-frequent blinking thing is a characteristic of the Y/N that comes out after popping the pills.

“Do you take drugs?” He asks you.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the ‘p’, not being phased by the question at all.

“Then what are those tablets that you take?” Jungkook refuses to back down.

You look up again, even in your high state looking slightly taken off guard. Although, nothing that derails you. “They are medicines,” you reply matter-of-factly, looking straight into his eyes.

Jungkook stares right back. “What medicines?”

“Dichlorosystrin, zincodestrin and oxidisulphide.”

“Are you ill?” he counters, trying to get you to admit that you do indeed take drugs.

“Nope.” You pop the ‘p’ again. “I feel weird sensations in my body and these pills control them.”

“What kind of sensations?”

“Sensations such as shivering, palpitating, irritability, trembling, sheepishness—”

“Just finish the food and then we will leave,” Jungkook cuts you off with much annoyance, understanding that you’re high and no matter what he says right now, you will always have an answer. You aren’t even in the right state of mind to understand the seriousness of the conversation. 

You and Jungkook walk through the gates of the banquet hall of the hotel, where Jungkook is organising the surprise party for Riya. Jungkook walks a few steps ahead of you, while you follow his trail.

While Jungkook is scrolling through his phone, checking his mail, you rip open a packet of chips. The sound of which annoys Jungkook to no end.

You take a chip out and munch on it loudly. Jungkook turns around and glares at you. You almost collide with him not realising that he has stopped walking. However, upon noticing Jungkook’s glare, you look to your left and right, checking if it’s really you, he’s glaring at.

Before, you can ask him what’s wrong, he is walking again.

You don’t think much of it, resume your munching and follow Jungkook.

However, it couldn’t be more than ten steps before Jungkook is facing you again, causing your steps to halt as well.

“So you are sober now?” Jungkook snaps, unable to hold it in any longer. “Do you have any idea how many side effects those pills have?”

“There are plenty of them,” you reply, without missing a beat. “Memory loss, definitely a gain in appetite which is reduced considerably when you eat, increased thirst and if I pop in a lot of pills, my heart would race to 300 and when so much blood is being pumped, there will be nosebleeds and—“

—“and?” Jungkook waits for your next words with a bated breath, hoping you won’t say what he thinks you’re about to say.

“—and hypoglycemic shock, then coma, then death.”

Jungkook releases a breath, a mix of disbelief and sheer horror coursing through his veins. He looks at you and the look of pure calmness on your face as you say these things astonishes him to no end. How can you know about all of this in great detail and still choose to pop those pills? Most importantly, how can you speak about all of this so casually? You aren’t even high now!

“You’re addicted to those drugs,” he says, as if explaining the seriousness of the situation to you.

“Nope,” you deny. “I have formulated them 15 days ago. It takes 21 days to get addicted.”

Jungkook scoffs. “That’s what all drug addicts say,” he resumes walking, feeling undeniably frustrated that no matter your state, you refuse to take this seriously.

“I’m not a drug addict,” you mumble, voice soft and for the first time since he has met you, vulnerable. “I haven’t touched them in seven years.”

Jungkook looks back at you and some of his annoyance melts at the childlike expression on your face. He huffs and decides it’s for the best to focus on why he’s here.

“Jun!” Jungkook calls for his manager, who comes rushing towards him. “Is everything ready?”

“Almost, sir.” Yeonjun, or Jun as Jungkook likes to call him, replies.”Only the swing is missing it’s seatbelts. That will be organised by this evening. So we cannot make the swing fly yet. Except for that you can test everything out.”

Jungkook nods and stands nervously in front of the crew, his eyes darting from the large red swing (which looks like a loveseat) to the sky, where fireworks were meant to bloom on the big day. This is supposed to be a perfect dry run for Riya’s surprise, and he wants everything to go smoothly. He tugs on his shirt collar, feeling the weight of the moment and takes a seat on the two-seater swing.

“Jun, be Riya for the time being,” Jungkook pats the space next to him, motioning for Jun to take the seat.

“S-Sir, me?” Yeonjun is slightly taken off guard by his boss’ words.

“Yes you, Jun,” Jungkook confirms, with a small flicker of amusement.

Yeonjun follows his instruction and takes the seat. He crosses his legs, places his hands on his lap in a very ladylike manner and looks at Jungkook with a loving look.

“Okay, you didn’t have to go the extra mile,” Jungkook tries to seem stern but the wide grin betrays him.

Yeonjun only looks away and flips his non-existent long hair to the other side.

A loud cackle coming from you grabs both Yeonjun and Jungkook’s attention.

“Ma’am, you’re finding this very funny,” Yeonjun says with a grin of his own, breaking from his character. He also takes this as an opportunity to invite you to be in his place. “Why don’t you come and sit here?” he gets up and offers you the seat.

“There’s no—”                                                                                 

“Sir, it’s better this way,” Yeonjun insists. “Let the lady try.”

You look at Jungkook wondering if it’s okay with him. Only to realize that he’s also looking at you with the same look.

You put aside the chips packet and dust your hands, and make your way to the swing. The moment you’re seated Jungkook explains to the entire crew the planned sequence.

“Listen carefully, the music comes on first, then the drapes, then the flowers, fountains, then the crane will lift the swing up and finally the fireworks. Okay?”

Numerous ‘yes,sir’s are received from the crew.

“Cool. Let’s go. ‘Riya’,” Jungkook looks at you and only then does he realizes that you’re not listening to any of this. Instead you’re examining the ropes that attach the swing to the crane very carefully. “Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“We’re about to start.”

“Oh, Okay,” you nod and get ready for whatever it is that is about to happen.

Now Yeonjun takes over as he addresses the crew working under him. “First play the music,” he instructs, to which the guy inside the crane, who’s responsible for all the buttons and keeping things in sync, shoots a thumbs up.

You look around and notice the two large speakers that remain hidden from the party section and expect them to blast any second now. However, moments pass and nothing happens. You look at Jungkook who with each passing second looks more and more impatient and give him a reassuring nod.

The guy inside the crane repeatedly presses the button that is supposed to be connected to the speakers but the speakers remain dead.

Jungkook loses his patience and yells at the guy to be heard over the distance. “What is wrong? Start the music!”

At that very moment, a strange metallic groan echoes from the crane above.

“Why is the swing…?” Jungkook begins, but before he can finish, the swing lurches upwards, leaving the ground behind.

“Whoa, wait!” Jungkook yelps, one hand tightly gripping the rope of the seat as it lifts into the air. While the other instinctually comes in front of you, in a protective manner, trying to work as a makeshift belt. You do not notice that however, as you burst into laughter, your head thrown back in sheer joy.

“This wasn’t part of the plan!” Jungkook panics, eyes wide as he sees the ground getting smaller beneath them.

“This is awesome!” You exclaim between giggles, your hair flying in the breeze. “This is awesome!”

Jungkook isn’t listening. His breath quickens, as the swing refuses to be still. One moment it moves to the right. The other, it moves to the left. “Get us down!” he shouts.

Oh you don’t remember the last time you had so much fun.

Now the music starts to play.

“A little unsaid, a little undone,”

The swing rotates a complete three-sixty and you holler in excitement.

“Fleetingly it stays, in a twinkle it’s gone”

The crew starts putting a blanket underneath just in case either of you fall.

 “Such a silly feeling.”

Just as Jungkook thought things couldn’t get worse, one of the drapes that is supposed to cover whoever is sitting on the swing from getting wet by the fountain, comes loose. It gets caught in the wind and wraps itself around his face. Blinded, he flailed his arms. “Help! I can’t see! I can’t see!”

 “Hold still, hold still!” You say, unwrapping the cloth with care. As you peel it away, you notice the look of panic and distraught on his face. “You’re okay. Look at me. You won’t fall”

Jungkook, heart pounding, blinked rapidly, his vision clearing as your calm yet excited face came into view.  

“There, better?” you query, your voice steady now.

Jungkook nods, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He leaned back into the swing, still slightly nervous but trusting your calmness. “You’re way too comfortable with this,” he mutters.

“Well yeah, I wasn’t expecting this,” you express, the laughter in your eyes contagious.

By now, although the swing is in the air, thankfully it has stopped moving.

“Well, are we getting down anytime soon?” Jungkook hollers to the crew below.

“Sir, we are trying,” comes Yeonjun’s  reply. “The machine malfunctioned.”

You two hang in air in silence, both carrying two completely different moods. The quiet however gets disrupted when the fountains start, which is then followed by confetti of petals. With no drapes to cover the both of you, you two get wet.

You enjoy the flower petals falling on you, whereas Jungkook only feels cranky at his entire plan turning out to be a major disaster.

When the fireworks take off, you gasp and look behind you where the sky is lit with all sorts of beautiful colors.

The gasp catches Jungkook’s attention and he looks at you. You’re grinning wide, with your mouth parted and your eyes reflecting the fireworks. Although, he thinks the sparkle in your eyes might have everything to do with the joy you feel inside.

You notice Jungkook looking at you and can’t help but explain the rush of emotions you’re feeling. “I feel new sensations, as if fountains of cool water are breaking out underneath while fireworks are going off above, while we are swinging through it all.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” he smiles at you reluctantly. “But this whole thing is a mess. Nothing went according to plan.”

“Isn’t that the best part though?” You quip. “Had everything gone to plan, it wouldn’t have been much of a surprise. You too got a surprise, thanks to this mess.”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth tug upwards and you can’t help but grin wider in response.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” He says but the tension in his voice has melted, replaced by something much lighter.

“Not as impossible as the chances of this being a success on the day of the party,” you say in a low voice, as if the words are not meant for Jungkook’s ears and look around innocently.

Jungkook lets out a laugh, this one free and genuine. In this moment, for some reason, the thought of all his efforts of impressing Riya, going down the drain doesn’t scare or disappoint him.

One thing he’s slowly learning about you; high or sober, you always have an answer .

A/N: *clears throat* just note the line about her mentioning this sensation about fountains of water underneath and fireworks above. Will come in handy later 🤭💓.

Also, I'm dropping my new fic "All that Sparkles" (Ceo Tae, Arranged marriage au) on my Patreon tomorrow! So if you'd like to check it out, you're most welcome 🤗❤️.

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fraturday

It's November! Hope everyone had an amazing Halloween. NGL October lasted approximately 84 years, and I am so so sleepy, but nevertheless I'm back with a fortnight of fic that I've read and loved recently. As always you can find previous rec lists here. Some light spoilers for the season.

2 November 2024

Buck, naked by @starlingbite has Eddie taking an art class on advice of Frank, but the only class left is a life drawing class. That wouldn't be a problem...except you'll never guess who the model turns out to be! Once again obsessed with the idea of Eddie picking up an artistic hobby, and I loved the both the artistry and the physicality of this fic.

You Can Leave It Late With Me by @ponyregrets oh this concept was delightful! In which Maddie becomes a firefighter and Buck becomes a librarian, running a book club for kids. Eddie, in need of more after school childcare support, enrols Christopher. Sweet and such a lovely character exploration. I loved this AU!

drench yourself in words unspoken by @eddiediazes one from 2022, this has Eddie keeping the fact that he's secretly a famous but anonymous romance novelist a secret from the rest of the 118, but when Buck finds copies of his books hidden in the closet, his secret soon comes out. I loved the way this fic showed Eddie processing his emotions and slowly embracing his sexuality through his fiction.

teach me how to love, and how to stay by @sharpbutsoft the sequel to a previously recc'd fave, aka the Chris finds out about the will fic. This is from Chris' POV and deals with the aftermath. His voice is so strong in this, I love his sarcastic teen thoughts that sometimes sway uncharitably into judgey Diaz mode, but are really his shield from the soft underbelly of wanting his Dad and Buck to be happy and his family and not leave him. He truly gets to say his piece here, whilst still ultimately giving Eddie grace and listening to him, and it's very cathartic.

With Eyes on the Stars and Hands in the Earth by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels been working my way through all of Lincoln's Halloween fics (read the ghosthunters, were!Buck and were!Eddie fics next!) but this one had me gripped earlier this week. Buck has plant magic, an unusual set of skills that set him apart from most of the natural witches he knows. Eddie is from a long line of witches but doesn't demonstrate magic of his own...but perhaps he's repressing more than just his emotions. Romantic, full of twists, and truly magical.

the kiss that lingers by @greenbergsays 5 times Eddie kisses Buck's birthmark and 1 time he doesn't fic! What I really loved about this one is the way Buck's sense of home in his own body grows with the ever evolving romantic butterflies of Eddie showing him such specific affection.

There’s No Place Like Home-Spun by icewhisper ahhh undiagnosed adhd!Buck being offered learning accommodations by his high school teacher who helps him learn to crochet to keep his hands occupied whilst his mind focuses. Traverses through his personal growth until he ends up at the 118, gifting his creations along the way. But no one exactly realises he's making these himself.

a world to rediscover by @itsactuallycorrine the 'what if Chris DOESN'T come home' fic. In which Chris is a young man, settled and about to get married. Eddie followed him to El Paso to repair their relationship and stayed. They're back on somewhat steady ground, when Chris learns the truth about why Buck is no longer in their lives. His fiance plots with him on how they can fix it. Lovely and complicated and ultimately uplifting despite the premise that initially made my heart go oh no! Worth it.

been broken one too many times by @glorious-spoon an episode coda to 8x05, in which Eddie is struck by the realisation that yes he absolutely *would* kiss Buck if he weren't covered in boils.

That's it for now! Bring on the Eddie-sode.

[faghubby]

PANTS DOWN FOREVER. "THE CONCLUSION "

Olivia met us at the airport she grabbed Stephanie, kissing her hard. Olivia's hands slid under her clothes even in this public setting. Stephanie just melts into her arms. Olivia picks Stephanie up and carries her out of the airport leaving me to gather all the bags and try and chase after them. Olivia opens the back door to her car sliding Stephanie in and climbing on top of her. I again rush to get the bags in the trunk. As Olivia strips Stephanie right in front of the airport. I jump in the car. Keys are in the ignition and I drive away. As Olivia now has her cock buried in Stephanie's pussy as Stephanie moans how much she missed her.

I drive to our appartment as Olivia continues to use Stephanie. After she finished fucking her. She let's Stephanie suck her cock until it's hard again.

"Sit on it bitch. Give me that tight asshole" Olivia orders. Stephanie obeys without a word. But cries out as she is fucked dry with no lube. Only after Oliva fills her ass as well with cum does Stephanie just slump over.

"Paulie wants to be your slut too" Stephanie tells Olivia as she clings to her. Not even trying to cover herself up as I continue to drive.

"I knew he would" Olivia laughs. When home I park in the garage. Again Olivia carries Stephanie into the house and places on the bed.

"Go clean my sluts holes" Olivia tells me. But before I can she kisses me. She stripped me tearing my clothes off. Till I am naked in front of her. Olivia loves that I have no pubic hair. My dick is throbbing as she gently strokes me. Without thinking I reach out and stroke her cock thru her shorts.

"Did you put this little thing in my girl?" Olivia asked.

"No, only the toy" I moaned.

"You are never going to put this in anything again" Olivia told me. She then leads me to the bedroom. And I lick and suck both Stephanie's pussy and ass. Olivia then has me dress. Complete with a pair of Stephanie's panties.

"I am taking Paulie. Rest I will be back later" she tells Stephanie. Olivia takes me. She drives to a salon. She takes my hand and leads me inside.

"Paul is here for a wax. From his chin down" Olivia announced loudly. I was rushed into the back. A large man enters he watches as I strip. He first cuts my body hair with clippers. Then starts on my back. He is gently and rubs my skin after he pulls a strip off. By the time he has reached my ass I am numb to the pain. Till he does my balls. This takes forever. Felt like hours. By the time he was satisfied. Even my pits smooth. Re then rinses and washes my body. His hands running over me I become aroused. As I do he grabbed my balls and squeeze. I cry as pain shoots through me. I lose my erection. He fumbles with something as I realize he is locking my dick in a steel cage.

"What are you doing?" I ask he just smiles as he locks it. He leaves and Olivia comes in. She had a bag. She pulls out a pink lingerie set out of the bag. She helps me put it on. I ask questions only to be silenced over and over. I am standing in front of a mirror wearing a corset, stockings, and a thong that holds the cage perfectly. Olivia also produces a pair of slip on shoes. She leads me out of the salon just like that. I get stares and horn honks and she walks me to the car. As she drives me home she grabs me and pulls my head down to rest on her lap. I just lay there I feel her hard cock against my cheek. When we arrive back at my appointment. She again leads me inside. My sister in law Jamie is there. But also her fiance Brad. And a third man. I didn't know.

"What's all, the noise about" Stephanie says as she appears. She sees me and smiles. I notice she is wearing matching lingerie except it's red and she wear stiletto heels. Another woman I didn't know is leading her by a leash attached to a collar. The man I didn't know grabs Stephanie and pulls her to him. While Jamie approached me holding a pink collar. I don't move as she attaches around my neck. And a leash is attached. Jamie leads me to her fiance

"Suck his cock" she tells me. I can't look him In the eye. I just drop and unbuckle his pants. I pulled out his soft cock I start to suck it. He grows quickly. I can hear Stephanie moaning but can't see her as my head is pushed further into Brad's crotch. I am suddenly pulled off my knees. Now on all fours I feel someone pull my panties down. Lube is applied and a huge cock is worked in. It must be Olivia I think to myself. I see Jamie naked getting fucked by the unknown woman with looks like the biggest dildo I had ever seen.

I swallowed Brad's load. Then am feed another load from I think Stephanie pussy. Olivia pumps a load in my ass. And a toy replaces her. Over and over I am used. I swallow four no five loads of cum. I can't even remain on my knees as I am fucked while laying on my side. I am finally left and covered with a blanket I fell asleep there on the floor. I wake later and all is quiet. I find Olivia and Stephanie in the master bedroom asleep. I go and shower. It is still early the sun not even up yet. As I get out of the shower I literally walk right into Jamie. She rips my towel off of me. I still wear the collar unable to remove it. Jamie grabs my cage and leads me to the guest room.

"Jamie I just cant" I try and tell her.

"You couldn't satisfy me if you tried" she laughs.

"Olivia has taken your place in master. bed. So she has set this room up for you. She opens the closet.

"Lots of petty panties for you as well" Jamie laughs.

"You are going to be such a good nanny to the baby" she laughs and leaves me to get dressed. I only find lace, sexy panties in bright colors. The more humiliating the better it seems. I get dressed. Even my outer clothes. All seen tight and in bright or pastel colors. Some of them are woman's clothes but could pass unless looked at close that they could be a men's. There are books on child raising everywhere. Dressed I head to the kitchen. Olivia is there naked.

"You look cute" Olivia smirks. "Bring Stephanie and I some breakfast in bed" she takes her juice. She smacks my ass as she goes back to the bedroom. As I start breakfast I realize Almost everyone is still there and I am suddenly, making breakfast for 6 people. Everyone else eats in the kitchen as I bring Olivia and Stephanie breakfast in bed. As I enter I see Stephanie sucking Olivia's cock. Just as I set down the tray. Olivia cums filling Stephanie's mouth. Stephanie jumped up kisses me feeding me the load. She had not swallowed any. I serve them both breakfast.

"When the baby is born, you will take Olivia's place here in my bed until she can start serving me properly again" Olivia tells me. "You will raise our children as your own. But I hate all that macho manly crap. So you will be a good femine daddy" Olivia tells me. And other then your regularly scheduled appointments at the salon the cage will never come off unless I wish it." Olivia told me. "But don't worry you will be used more then enough to learn how to get pleasure from it.

The next several months, Olivia was very generous. She paid for me to take classes in massage. Also cooking and nutrition classes. She was very concerned that I get in better shape. And I found myself in Yoga and pole dancing classes. Which also made me learn how to walk in high heels. I made some friends in classes. But was also laughed at since I did yoga in bright pink yoga shorts and a pink sports bra. With my perfectly smooth skin.

When the baby was born I was there. Olivia finding it gross. Olivia named her "Luna" I was given the job of primary care giver. I also spent every night in Olivia's bed. She was a machine demanding sex twice sometimes three times a day.

Once a month, Olivia invited friends over. During this time both Stephanie and Me wore our collars. And served whoever however anyone wished. I often found myself giving guest massages after a evening of sex.

Stephanie became pregnant rather soon.

10 years later. As I decorate for Luna's 10th birthday. Our 5 children 3 boys and 2 girls playing outside. My parents excepting them as there grandkids even thought the known there is no way I could have fathered any of them. Often I hear jokes how my boys are more manly then I am. Olivia is assist coach of the baseball team where I assist the girls cheerleading squad. Stephanie is proud mom of all of them.

The cage is less then an inch now. And hasn't come off in more then a year. After laser hair removal has made it so it doesn't have to be removed. My hair is also long now as well. Olivia likes to be able to pull it when I suck her cock. Our oldest son told his teacher that his father was gay. Stephanie went to school to deal with it. But she told me she never denied that I was. As she had me orally please her.

I have to admit I feel more like a stay at home mom. Then their father.

[aziraphales-library]

Heya!

I've read a LOT of GO fics in my time, but I can't remember if I've seen crossovers/AUs of the following movies with Aziraphale/Crowley, can you help please?

So my favourite rom coms of all time are the following, and I'd love GO versions (if they don't exist I may have to write them)!

French Kiss (Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline)

You've Got Mail (Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks)

When Harry Met Sally (Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal)

Runaway Bride (Julia Roberts and Richard Gere)

Never Been Kissed (Drew Barrymore)

I won't bother asking about Pretty Woman because I've read so many versions with either of them in either role lmaooo (and I have loved Every. Single. One.)

Or basically any late 80s/early 90s rom coms with Meg Ryan (except Sleepless in Seattle because I find it incredibly boring) or Julia Roberts!

Thank you so much for everything you do! You've helped me discover so many amazing fics and writers and it is much appreciated!!! 💖💖😇😎

Hello there!

Did you know there is a whole collection from the Good Omens Rom-Com Event that was run a couple years ago? You might find what you're looking for there! (Some of the fics are unfinished so keep that in mind)

We have previously recommended a bunch of You've Got Mail/She Loves Me fics HERE, so check those out.

As for the other ones you've asked about:

French Kiss AU:

A Bit of Crumpet by Fyre [E]

With a handsome, successful fiance and a respectable home in Manhattan, Aziraphale Fell thought his life was more than adequate. He never expected to be jilted in a long-distance telephone call and so he sets out for England to find out exactly what's going on and gets a lot more than he bargained for.

When Harry Met Sally AU:

it had to be you by curtaincall [M]

“What I’m saying,” said Aziraphale, looking fixedly ahead, “and please don’t take this as a personal insult in any way, is that an angel and a demon can’t be friends.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” said Aziraphale, firmly. “It’s against the order of things. You’re supposed to tempt. I’m supposed to thwart. We can’t go being friends.”

*

A canon-divergent AU inspired by When Harry Met Sally.

I don't know of any fics with your two last wishes but there is also:

Notting Hill AU:

Soho by Lurlur [E]

Aziraphale lives a quiet kind of life, running a quiet specialist bookshop in one of the liveliest districts of London. He's content with his lot, happy with his friends, tolerant of his probably-human housemate, living vicariously through the gossip pages.

One day, a chance encounter with Anthony Crowley, lead singer of wildly successful rock band The Demons, threatens to turn his whole world upside down.

Music and Lyrics AU:

pop! goes my heart by attheborder [E], WIP

When has-been musician Anthony Crowley is recruited by pop singer Anathema Device to write a song for her new record, he jumps on the chance to resuscitate his career with a hit. There's only one problem: he can't write lyrics to save his life.

But a chance meeting with a stranger by the name of Aziraphale, with a poetic streak that's a perfect fit for the song, changes everything for Crowley. Together, they'll create something beautiful, fight the forces of the music industry, and perhaps even find a way back into love...

A Music and Lyrics AU for the GO Rom Com Event, complete with all-new original songs written and recorded by the author!

Kate & Leopold AU:

Until by Nadzieja [T]

“I don’t want to go home.” Half-asleep Aziraphale murmurs into his ear and Crowley's heart clenches. His grip tightens reflexively around the warm soft body in his arms, around the smell of old books and sandalwood.

“Then don’t.” He’s trying not to sound like he's pleading, but his throat is tight and his voice hoarse.

*

Crowley lives his average life, working in a high-end advertising company at London that pays just enough to get him a room in a shared accommodation. That's just his luck that he ends up living with a literal witch. One day she brings home an even more eccentric man that has a taste for 19th century fashion, as if Crowley didn't have enough things to worry about. Little he knows that the man will turn his world upside down. Literally. And that's just the beginning of his problems.

~Mod N

[bidisasterevankinard]

“So, this is what you do when I’m not around?”

Or

“Is this… turning you on?”

If it inspires ♥️

I combined it and here have this hot thing love <3333 NSFW-ish. I think about continue to make it E rating and post whole thing on ao3 then, so let me know if you want more

prompts

In Buck's defense, it wasn't his idea to buy panties, but Chim's. Years and years ago, during Buck's probie year. They were drunk and Chim dared him to do it. Buck did. Then came home, put them between boxers he didn't wear much and forgot about them. He couldn't throw them away because they're expensive and pretty panties. And that's how these panties lived the last six years. They were moved in that exact stack of clothes, which Buck didn't want to sort when he moved to the loft. He just put it on the top shelf and forgot about it.Right till that moment.

He is alone in the loft, sorting his things between boxes to decide what he will move to the Diaz house. And what he will throw away or donate, because it's finally time to get rid of the clothes he would never wear again.

That's how he found these lace black panties. And if the boxers should go to trash because his size is bigger now, the panties on other hand look like they can fit him.

Buck in his life tried a lot of things, even crazier than wearing some panties. Just last night Eddie tied him up to their bed and made sure that it is hard for Buck to move today, especially bend, without remembering how good his fiance railed him. Trying some panties shouldn't feel so exciting and thrilling, and a little bit forbidden, like something he shouldn't desire. Except that Buck feels all this mix of different emotions like that and he wants to sense the lace around him.

He slips out of his sweatpants and boxers, but leaves the shirt. It is like a shield from feeling like he does something wrong. The lace fits him like a second skin, highlighting his cock and how pale he is. But that makes Buck feel good about them, it's how he looks like something precious and cute. Not like a 6 '2 guy, but like something that needs to be handled very gently, like a porcelain vase that is so easy to break with a careless movement. Buck feels good. He feels pretty.

Admiring himself from different angles in the big mirror, still not daring to leave himself only in black lace, he doesn't hear how he is not alone anymore.

“So, this is what you do when I’m not around?” Eddie's voice scares Buck and he rushes to cover himself, tugging on his shirt hard.

“I saw you naked, mi amor. No need to cover this ass or cock from me,” Eddie licks his lips not taking his eyes from his bottom. Even if Buck tries hard to hide himself, he still knows Eddie can see quite enough. “Especially when they are wrapped in such a beautiful package. Like a beautiful present.” 

Buck doesn’t know what to say. He opens and closes his mouth for seconds till his eyes catch the lines of Eddie’s cock in his sweatpants. Catching the way where Buck looks, Eddie puts his hand pulling on his pants so that the line of his half hard cock is seen better. 

“Is this … turning you on?” 

His fiance comes close, putting his big warm hands on his t-shirt, lifting it up till he can take it off from his body, stopping to ask Buck with his big caring eyes if it is OK, not moving till he sees the nod. Eddie leaves him almost naked in his almost empty loft. 

“How can it not? My future husband looks like a fucking model, meeting me in these cute lace,” big hands holds him by the waist, bringing Buck close to his body. Their cocks touch and they both moan. “You look so beautiful Buck,” Eddie murmurs and kisses his neck. “Do you like the way you look? Or should I leave to let you put your clothes on?” warm chocolate meets his sky and Buck one more time falls even more in love with this perfect caring man.

“I think I look pretty. I-I feel good. Really good,” Buck whispers, still feeling guilty to admit how he loves it, even if he knows Eddie loves it too. 

“Do you want me to make it better?” Eddie traces his long soft fingers over the lace till he touches his hard cock, smirking when he feels a wet spot. 

“Yes, please,” Buck gasps as Eddie speeds up his movements, passing the lace over his tender skin. “But we-we moved the bed already,” despite his words Buck just let Eddie leave more hickeys on his skin.

“You still have a kitchen counter. I haven't bent you near it for months,” Eddie kisses him, biting his lip. “What do you think, cowboy?”

Buck smirks remembering why Eddie calls him cowboy. Sue him for telling his “just best friend” he always liked to ride a man anytime he had a chance. He wanted to drive Eddie crazy with this idea. He succeeded even if they still had a crooked path after Buck's confession. Eddie their first time admitted that he called him cowboy several times to hint he wants Buck to ride him. 

He licks his lips, acting like he thinks about it, taking the clothes from the body he needs to see naked. The way Eddie looks at him when he kneels to take his sweats off intoxicates him as well as the musky scent. 

Touching beautiful abs, Buck kisses his man again before breathing into his lips.

“Yeah, not a bad idea, but what about me riding you on the balcony? These panties allowed it,” Buck puts Eddie’s hand on his bare ass. “And I found my cowboy hat,” Buck nods towards the hat. “Should I wear it or -”

Buck’s question is interrupted by Eddie’s lips and the body pining him to the wall. Grinding their cocks, they kiss till Buck is ready to hit Eddie’s hip to have a chance to breathe, but Eddie ends the kiss right at that moment, leaving Buck alone near the wall. He takes the hat and comes back, putting the hat on Buck’s head.

“ Are you ready for the ride, cowboy?”

[prosperdemeter2]

Teaser Tuesday - foundation

Nora yanked Eddie back by the handle on Christopher’s bag, her light eyes searching his with concern. “Maybe buy some ear plugs?” She always made it sound like they had been talking about things before they actually were - he's going to say yes. I'm worried about you. Your divorce was pretty tough, huh?  Eddie still didn't believe more than every fifth word out of her mouth. He adored her, though. Nora was quite an amazing woman, in his opinion. He rolled his eyes at her and relaxed the line of his mouth into a soft smirk. “I actually have those stocked in the bathroom.”  Specifically, in the first aid kit in the bathroom, but Eddie didn't know how well they worked or how old they were. Buck had taken over tracking and stocking it way back when he had first moved in, and he had crafted a whole spreadsheet for it (well, copied the one they had at the station) back when he was out of work. Nora tugged the backpack strap again, “Don't be smart with me, Eddie. Use them if you need them, okay?”  “Yes, mom.”  “Noise can be overwhelming.”  “Yes, mom.”  “Get to bed, son.” Joe teased with a winking laugh. “See you at the gym this week? Your PT cleared you to come back, yeah?”  His PT had, actually. Frank, though… was potentially dragging his feet on all angles and avenues. Give yourself time, Eddie. You don't have to rush back into any of it. It's not a burning building and no one needs to be saved. Except his fiance was working without Eddie watching his back, and Eddie trusted the entire 118 but he trusted himself more. “Yeah,” still, Eddie didn't know what real danger Joe’s boxing gym could pose to him. He missed it, and he had been holding off going back for a month longer than he should have for his physical well-being. “Send me the schedule?”  “You bet!” Joe bumped their knuckles together and eased his SUV into drive. “Congratulations, you two! We better get the first invite.”  “You'll get the fourth and thank me for it.” Buck yelled back from the porch and he seemed a little tired of all of it already, all of it being the instant question of plans and wants and ideas. Helena had been… a little much once she had admitted to knowing about their engagement. Eddie had told her to calm down, but Helena had countered with overcompensation. She hadn't been much of a supporter at all during Eddie’s first wedding, and as much as Eddie regretted the way things had turned out, apparently his parents had to. Helena had offered to take over planning the whole thing when Buck had tensely told her that he hadn't really thought much about the wedding at all yet.  That… hadn't really gone over well.  “You should take that thing off,” Eddie said in a joke, nodding down to the ring on Buck’s left hand. He rolled his eyes at him but his smile lost the majority of it's edge. “Everyone's just going to keep asking.”  “I'm not taking this thing off unless I'm dead.” Buck countered and quietly latched the door shut behind them, flicking the lock with ease.  “What?” Eddie teased. “You're going to want to marry someone else in the afterlife?”  “Find you and marry you again, maybe.”  Eddie flushed and bumped their shoulders together, carefully dropping Christopher’s bag on the couch and allowing himself to, thankfully, be wrapped up in a warm, full bodied hug. Home. 

[sweetheart4you]

In celebration of Ranma 1/2's remake (And the fact I completely forgot about it until I just binged the series), I make Ranma Headcannons <3. I'll get to my requests, I've been meaning to, but this new fixation won't leave till I get to write about my husband :3

You're Akane's twin brother, and seeing as you were a boy, your father never considered you to be Ranma's husband; even though you had come out as gay.

You were unlike Akane by a landslide; with crippling anxiety, not being into martial arts, liking to read and getting relatively good grades, etc.

Ranma and Akane always overlooked you since, unfortunately, you always faded into the background. Even in your own home you were forgotten about. That was, until you found a cute little black pig with a bandana around it's neck scrambling into your room.

Ranma was chasing it, not realizing the other cursed shifter you'd found out who's name was Ryoga, had jumped into your arms. You screamed, having previous experiences with pigs that freaked you out. Ranma obviously heard this and ran into your room, only to see you panicking and holding Ryokga away from your body but still holding him gently.

You had only been wearing an oversized sweater, one that was slipping off your shoulder. It was then that Ranma started to gain feelings for you; seeing as you were adorable and kind. He was confused as he'd never had feelings for men before, but you seemed like the exception.

Over the course of the following week, Ranma never saw you at your own home other than when you were going to bed. He also started to visit your room when everyone else was asleep; appreciating your night owl tendencies. You both talked about everything and anything, he found you adorable and kinder to him than Akane. You were understanding and even while overthinking and anxious about what his next words would be, you tried not to jump to conclusions and would only act once he said the full story.

You started to have a crush on him too, but you refused to start drama by confessing to your twin sister's fiance, especially since you were a guy too. You found him charming and he made sure that you knew he saw you, he made sure you knew he noticed and remembered little things you told him too. He was just sweet and endearing, even if not the sharpest tool in the shed sometimes.

But as Ranma and Akane grew closer, or seemingly did, you distanced yourself. You wouldn't disrespect either of them by being infatuated by your sister's fiance. But Ranma wouldn't let you, he wouldn't let the boy he was falling more and more in love with leave him. Especially if there was seemingly no reason for it. Ranma kept pushing and eventually broke your walls down.

But the next time he saw you was when you were telling your family your were moving out. Ranma wouldn't let this happen. He confessed then and there, grabbing your hands and looking you in the eyes as he said, “You can't leave! I love you {Name}, I won't let you leave without me! You can't! I won't allow it!”

Obviously everyone was shocked frozen, especially as he kept going. “I notice the way you often forget to take care of yourself, I notice when you fidget out of anxiety; it's adorable, I notice when you think you're unwanted somewhere! I won't let you think no one notices and let alone I don't care!”

Surprisingly, everyone was okay with it after processing for a few days. You and Ranma became fiancé's and were the cutest couple anyone saw. Akane got a girlfriend and came out as a lesbian, and everything worked out.

[thatredheadwriter]

absolution

javi gutierrez x reader (2.7k)

Javi misses your date and has some making up to do.

A/N: This started because I was listening to MAMMAMIA by Maneskin on repeat and I couldn’t stop thinking about Javi G on his knees in front of his lady. These two love the pants off of each other (literally).

This is an NSFW oneshot for female reader with Javi Gutierrez of The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.

Content Includes (but is not limited to):

fiance!Javi

some D/s dynamics (not hardcore)

dom!reader

sub!Javi

use of religious language to describe sex (there’s a theme, idk)

oral sex (male + female receiving)

anal fingering (male receiving), just a little as a treat

a very sexy dress (link in case you’re having trouble visualizing)

Please read at your own discretion and remember to consume your fanfiction responsibly.

-

10:42 pm

You’re seething as the numbers tick higher on the small clock beside the huge king-sized bed. One thing that never changed in all the hotels you visited with Javi, they all had the same shitty, annoying alarm clock sitting by the bed.

Shooting for this most recent project had so many locations–between photography, location shoots, studio shoots–and Javi insisted on being there for all of them. You’ve spent the last eight months crisscrossing the globe after your fiance and his passion project, watching him work to the bone for some sort of perceived perfection while the rest of the world turned on without him.

Tonight was supposed to be different.

Javi made reservations at the hotel restaurant for seven o’clock and promised he would be there. In all your time knowing him, he’d never broken a date with you, or anyone for that matter. But when eight o’clock rolled around, you settled back in your chair, called the waitress over, and ordered.

The mushroom risotto was delicious and the chardonnay tasted as expensive as it billed. You had the rest of the bottle sent up to your room for good measure. And now you’re waiting. Because good food and wine have sated your hunger, but not your fire.

It’s not until 11:03 that you hear the electronic click of the lock and your fiance finally enters the room. He strides in with his back to you,

“Late night?” you clear your throat and retrieve your half-finished glass from the low table by your seat.

Javi turns on a dime and his mouth falls open. Even from your seat across the room, you can practically see his pupils dilate as he takes in your form, clad in the sexiest dress you’d ever braved. It featured a false wrap-style v-neck, and for the kicker–double thigh slits. If you moved a certain way, it was clear you weren’t wearing underwear beneath.

You’d shown up at dinner dressed to the nines, dripping in the jewelry Javi had bought you over the years. And you’d left the same way. In the suite, you’d dressed down, putting your heels away in the small closet and taking everything off except for the earrings you always left in and the pendant he’d gifted you for your first anniversary–a single blue-green sapphire set in white gold that hung just perfectly at the crest of your cleavage.

“It’s the same color as the sea back home. Reminds me of you, because well, you’re my home too,” he’d explained as you had looked over it speechlessly.

“Have you eaten? My dinner was delicious,” you stand and turn your body to face the window, but your eyes stay on him.

You see it in his eyes. The exact moment he remembers the date he planned and everything he promised you, swept up in time and replaced with this crackling tension between you.

“Mi amor,” his face pales instantly as he crosses the room to you, but you hardly give him a glance. Instead, you lazily sip at the wine in your glass and circle the room to maintain your distance. “Please forgive me. I got caught up at work. I’m so sorry.”

“I waited for you, Javi,” you finish the wine and set the glass on top of a dresser, striding languidly towards the bed. “Alone in that damn restaurant.”

“Fuck, my love, it was never my intention to leave you there tonight. The shooting ran late and then the director wanted to go over some things, and then one of the actor’s agents called about a contract dispute…It’s a poor excuse, I know. I just now got away, and…Please forgive me, mi amorcita.”

“I won’t be a bystander in your life, Javi,” you settle yourself on the end of the bed and part your legs so the fabric parts around them. “It hurt me, sitting there alone. I miss my fiance.”

Javi drops to his knees in front of you, his gorgeous face twisted in anguish. “Please, tell me how to make it up to you.”

Showing the slightest mercy, you reach for him and relish the way he leans into your touch. With the softest grip on his golden chocolate curls, you guide his cheek to rest on the inside of your bare thigh. “Beg.”

So close to what he wants, he’ll never take it without your permission, even as he eyes the wetness peeking out from under the slit in your skirt.

“I want to taste you, please. I want to drown in you and feel you cum on my tongue. Let me give you as many orgasms as you can take.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” you muse, pretending to be distracted by something on the bedspread. The truth is, you know you’ll cave as soon as you look him in those gorgeous brown eyes.

“Please, princesa, I know I fucked up,” his accent weighs heavy with his distress. Javi’s hand traces up and down the outside of your thigh, “Let me make it up to you.”

You look down at your fiance, and your heart breaks a little. He didn’t mean to forget dinner, and you know he feels awful. Besides, he’s been terribly stressed with his new project and it’s not like you two have spent much time together lately, not like you used to.

“Okay, Javi, I forgive you. Now make me cum,” you purr.

A giggle escapes when he hooks his arms around your knees, forcing you to land back on the bed with a light bounce.

“I am so fucking sorry, mi querida,” he growls, sucking and kissing up the skin of your inner thighs. “I swear on my life, on my father’s grave, it will never happen again.”

You want to remind him that maybe now isn’t the best time to bring up his dead father, but then he swipes his thumb against your clit and all that comes out is a high-pitched moan

“Fuck, Jav,” you reach down to bury your hands in his curls and feel him nip at your skin in response.

“Never leaving this bed again,” he licks the flat of his tongue up your slit and you buck your hips up, chasing the sensation. “Can’t leave you, can’t leave this.”

Javi is a man used to the finer things in life. It’s what happens when you grow up on a huge estate, surrounded by servants, never wanting for anything. But one thing has always sated him, left him content and pliant at the end of your fingertips, and he’ll drink at it for hours if you let him.

You’re still clothed, however the dress you’d specially chosen for the occasion is just garnish. He’d been meant to savor it all through dinner, feast his eyes before taking an indulgence of the flesh, but you were never one to deny your lover. Especially when his absolution feels so divine.

From the first time he took you to bed, Javi made it a point to learn you. He was certainly a skilled lover, but over time he’s grown incredibly attuned to every little sound, every little twitch and jerk as he works you over. And he’s certainly eager.

A steady-building pleasure grows in your belly as he licks from your entrance up to your clit, over and over. Each time you can feel the proud jut of his nose bumping against that little bundle of nerves as he dips lower.

Your first orgasm comes quickly, and your fingers grip hard at Javi’s hair. But he doesn’t stop. If anything it spurs him on further. The taste of your first release drives him on and you can’t help but cry out when he sucks on your clit.

-

You’re not sure how long it is, or how many times you’ve cum, but eventually you’re overstimulated to the point of pain. You push Javi’s head away from your core, making him whine.

“S’too much,” you pant, “Gotta give me a break.”

At the blown-out look in your eyes, he’s worried. “Did I do too much? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, Javi, you never hurt me. M’just sensitive is all.”

You reach for him and he obliges, laying down beside you on the bed. Now that he’s finally close, you pull him in for a deep kiss, whining when you taste yourself on his tongue. When you need air again, he just kisses and nips down your jaw, still putting his mouth to really good use.

“I’m so sorry, mi amorcita,” he murmurs into the tender skin he soothes with a kiss. “My mind has just been so-so…scrambled lately.”

“I know, Jav. I’ve been a little worried about you.”

At your confession, his face falls. You know he never wants you to worry about anything.

“You work too hard, Javi,” you continue, running your hand down his exposed chest. “Too much espresso, not enough sleep.”

Your love sighs deeply under your touch, a weight lifting at your words. “I will do better.”

“Let me relieve some of that stress?” your lip curls in a smirk as your hand slips lower and lower until you’re fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Just below, his zipper is struggling to contain an impressive erection, the thought of which already has you salivating.

Javi flushes, voice raspy all of a sudden. “I still have some making up to do, no?”

You shake your head as you slip from the bed beside him into nearly the same spot he was in moments ago. “This night was supposed to be about you, cariño. I’d like to get it back on schedule.”

He doesn’t breathe as you settle into position, a serpent preparing to strike. Your hands run up and down his clothed thighs, just to feel him tremble beneath you.

“Easy, baby,” you soothe. “Gonna let me get you all nice and relaxed?”

Looking up at him, you wonder how you got so lucky. His curls are disheveled, sticking every which way from your grip on them as he brought you to ecstasy after ecstasy. Sweat glistens across his golden skin, flushed from the summer heat and more. You want nothing more than to bite his bottom lip, the one that sticks out as he pants for breath, nodding eagerly as you finally cup his bulge with your hand.

“Words,” you click your tongue at him.

“Yes, please.”

With his consent, you take your time with his belt, removing it completely from the loops and setting it to the side. Then you’re undoing his pants, careful not to pinch or pull on the skin that pushes up against his waistband. As the button pops open, you lean forward and give the imprint it left behind a kiss, and Javi shudders above you. You’re just as methodical with the zipper, pulling it down tooth by tooth until it reaches its end.

When you look back at your fiance, his face is caught in a mixture of concentration and ecstasy, eyes pinched shut as his chest heaves with the struggle of staying still.

“Javi.”

Deep brown eyes find yours in a heartbeat, searching for answers, instructions, pleasure. Whatever you’re willing to give.

“I love you.”

Immediately he relaxes, the curve of his spine returning to normal as some of the energy pent up from his day releases, leaving only room for you and the pleasure that’s to come.

“I love you too, mi princesa.”

“Tell me you want me to suck your cock.”

A groan rattles somewhere in his chest and his knuckles go white as he grips the sheets. Javi is vocal about giving you pleasure, but tends to go mute when asked about his own. But you’re not doing anything else until he asks for it. You want him to get used to asking for what he needs. You won’t let him burn himself out like this anymore.

“I want-I want you…mierda. I want you to suck my cock. Please,” he rasps, little more than a whisper.

You grin up at him as your hand slips under the band of his boxer briefs to find the weeping head of his cock. “You’re so good for me Javi,” you praise as you run your thumb through the dribble of precum that’s gathered there. “Telling me what you want. I love that, thank you.”

He’s more than ready when you finally take him out, but you still take your time. The first sloppy kiss to his head and Javi is digging his fingers into the bed below, brow knit in concentration. You work your way down to his neatly trimmed base before coming back up the other side.

Javi’s fingers thread through your hair, not insistent, just an anchor to the present. He tugs lightly when you first swallow him down, curses dripping from his kiss-swollen lips. After all your time together, you know exactly what it takes to get him right to the edge. Your tongue works the underside of him as you lazily bob up and down.

Your eyes cut to his to find them glued on yours as you work him. “Fuck, Jesus, querida, stop or I’m going to-”

You pull off of him, but your hand still works up and down his shaft. “You’re going to cum for me Javi, just like this. Let this be your final penance.”

With that you go back to your task, taking him down your throat until your eyes water. Two of your fingers gather some of the spit and precum that’s dribbled down to his base and you use it to gently work against the tight ring of muscle just a few inches below.

Javi looks divine like this. The tendons in his neck bulge as he throws his head back in pleasure. He’s screwed his eyes shut and you wish you could be in two places at once so you could lick the bead of sweat away forming at his temple.

“Wanted to- wanted to, fuck- I wanted to fuck you like you deserve,” he pants through gritted teeth. “But this is…” He doesn’t finish, because that’s when your fingers press in to breach his ass, and a low groan rattles through his chest.

The taste of him hits as you curl your fingers against his prostate. His fingers scratch against your scalp as you swallow against him again and again until he’s a shaking, muttering mess above you.

You release his softening cock with a soft pop sound and grin up at your utterly wrecked, not-a-stressed-bone-left-in-his-body fiance. As he tries to catch his breath, you rise from your position on the floor and hope Javi can’t hear your knees pop as you slide onto the bed next to him.

Javi pulls you in for a kiss and tugs you up the bed so you can lay beside of him. He doesn’t pull away until you’re firmly tangled in his embrace.

“I love you, and I’m so sorry about dinner.”

You smooth a hand over his disheveled curls. “Javi, you’re forgiven. Just don’t forget that you have a life outside of work. I will do everything in my power to support you in whatever you choose to do, but I won’t watch you neglect yourself. I love you too much.”

“I hear you. And I will…I will try to do better.”

“That’s all I ask. Maybe one day this week you can let the cast and crew have a break and we can have a do-over for dinner?” you ask hopefully.

“Yes, I think maybe Tuesday, or Wednesday. We’re supposed to shoot with-”

“Details later, Jav,” you silence him with a peck to the lips. “You never answered my question earlier. Did you get a chance to eat?”

He winces a bit and gives you a look, “I had some crackers and hummus from food services.”

“Let’s call down for room service and then you should get some rest. I plan on letting you do some more making up before you head off to set tomorrow.”

[mendessi]

speak now | part four

pairing: fem!reader x joel miller

summary: joel saves you from the biggest mistake of your life

word count: 1.6K

warnings: smut probably, pre-outbreak, mentions of marriage, based off speak now by taylor swift, mentions of domestic abuse, joel is 26 & reader is 21, mentions of cheating, kind of slow burn, brief mention of death, angst, will add more as i think of them, not proofread

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five (finale)

minors dni

"I'll see you in a little bit." Joel said, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Tommy's askin for a ride from the bar."

"Go ahead." You smiled. "I'll make us something to snack on."

"Sounds good." He shut the truck door behind you and then got behind the wheel once more to go pick up his drunk brother from the bar. You loved that you had the place to yourselves and you couldn't wait for your idiot fiance to get back into town so you could call things off with him and go to Austin with Joel.

You pushed the door open and walked to the kitchen stopping in your tracks when you saw your fiance standing in the kitchen. You were silent, fear taking hold of your body.

"What are you doing home?" You finally managed to ask.

"The neighbors called. Said you had a man here every night this week while I was gone. I didn't believe them so I had to come see for myself." He said, crossing his arms. "I didn't want to believe that my darling obedient fiancee was a fucking whore."

You shook your head, tears brimming your eyes as you thought of any excuse. "I'm not."

"Then I go to the bar to see if you were at work and they say they've barely seen you in two weeks. So I come home and wait. Look who dropped you off. That fucking dick from the bar." He moved towards you slowly as he spoke and you braced yourself for the moment he'd burst.

"I'm-"

"Don't fucking speak when I'm talking to you! You come into my fucking house wearing another man's clothes." He yelled backing you into the wall, tugging at Joel's shirt that you were wearing. "Did you sleep with him? Like the fucking whore that you are, did you sleep with him?!"

He made you feel small. It wasn't just the fact that he was taller than you, it was the way his words felt laced with venom. Even when he called you pretty it made you feel disgusting. He knew that using certain tones and inflections, you'd admit anything to him. You lived in fear around him and he used that to his advantage.

"Just once. I didn't-"

"Fucking bitch." He slapped the wall beside your head making you flinch.

You fucked up. Sleeping with Joel should've never happened until you were fully out of this relationship. It didn't matter if he cheated on you numerous times throughout your relationship, you should've never done the same thing.

"What, did he promise you the fucking world or something? Tell you that he loved you? He's a fucking liar just like you. You think someone like him will stick around for trash like you?" He went on.

Then you felt angry. Hearing those words come off his lips made you feel sick. "Joel wouldn't lie. And he'd never put his fucking hands on me. He'd never sneak women behind my back in my own fucking house!" You yelled shoving your hands into your chest without thinking. "I want to break up, I don't want to marry you."

He threw you to the ground in an instant, his hand connecting with your cheek, standing over you. "Like hell. You will be at that altar on Saturday, wearing white. You will say 'I do' or I will kill you and your little boyfriend, do you understand?"

He was a horrible person but never before did he threaten to kill you or anyone around you. That terrified you. Nothing would make you marry this man except for the threat on Joel's life.

"I understand." You replied and he stood tall, brushing the wrinkles from his shirt and then turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen.

You grabbed his keys and took his car to The Lazy Eight and knocked on Joel's door. He stepped out, a smile on his face as he leaned in to kiss you. You pushed him away and stared at the ground for a moment.

"Tommy's asleep, I was just comin to see you, is everything alright?" He asked, reaching for your hands but you pulled them away too.

"I can't go with you." You said quietly, unable to make eye contact with him. "I can't be with you."

"What? Baby, you're talkin nonsense." Joel reached for you again, but you stepped backwards.

"I'm getting married on Saturday to someone who will be able to care for me, just like my dad wanted." Your voice broke as you spoke and it took everything in you to not fall to your knees in front of him.

"What are you talkin about?" Joel asked, shaking his head. "What about everythin? These past weeks just been nothin?"

"No, of course not." You reached up wiping the tears from your cheeks. "Joel, I just-"

"Then what is it, baby? Tell me? Please." He looked down at you with pleading eyes as he cupped your cheeks, "Don't do this. I love you."

"I know." You replied. You wanted to tell him that you loved him too and wanted to be with him but you refrained and said the one thing that you knew would push him away from you. "But, I don't love you."

"That's not true." He said pulling away. "It's not. What's gotten into you?"

"You're going home to Austin and I'm staying here. We shouldn't be together, it never would've worked. I don't love you, you were just entertaining to me. I'm sorry."

Joel's heart felt like it was being ripped out and stepped on and then shoved back into his chest over and over again with every word you said but he refused to believe you. Something else was wrong and he could feel it in his bones.

"Hey, whatever is goin on you can tell me, honey." He didn't bother stopping the tears that fell from his eyes. He didn't know what love was until he met you, let alone did he think he'd be lucky enough to experience it and here you were in front of him the entire epitome of love. Everything to him. And you were leaving him.

"I don't want to see you again." You said through a broken sob but after that you composed yourself to be the most convincing to him.

"Please." He said, but it came out just above a whisper.

"I'm so sorry." You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned leaving him standing there as you got into your fiance's car and left The Lazy Eight.

You had to pull over because of how badly your tears were clouding your vision. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you hit the steering wheel over and over again, a mixture of anger and fear riddling your body. Anger at the fact you that you had to let him go to keep him safe, fear at the idea of your future with the man that had threatened to kill you and him both.

Joel didn't show up to your rescue, but how could you have expected him to after the things you said. The days were counting down to your wedding and you had a ridiculous amount of appointments leading up to it. Maybe you'd enjoy getting your nails done and a final dress fitting if your obnoxious future mother in law wasn't criticizing every tiny little thing you had chosen. The only upside to her being around was that your fiance was actually kind and loving towards you.

You had one last shift at the bar the night before your wedding, just for some sense of normalcy before you gave your life away to the man you despised. Your shift neared its end so you were cleaning some of the tables that were empty just to rush the closing process when you were stopped by Tommy.

"I was hoping you'd be here tonight." He said.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to get a drink." He said, following you to the bar. "And to ask what the hell happened between you and my brother."

There was never much time for you to ever have a conversation with Tommy except for hellos and goodbyes in passing while Joel was running to see you and he was running to see the girl that he had met the night Joel met you.

"How is he?" You asked, pouring a glass of whiskey for him.

"He doesn't really show weakness towards me, but I can tell its fucked him up pretty bad." Tommy said.

"You guys are leaving tomorrow so," you shrugged your shoulders, trying to not let yourself care too much, "He'll get over it. I'm getting married tomorrow. It was never going to work out."

"That's not true and we both know it." Tommy's tone grew harsh and you sighed understanding the place he was coming from. This was his brother and you had fucked everything up.

"I love him Tommy, but I'm doing this to protect him."

Tommy shook his head at the admission and set his whiskey glass down. "Your fiance threatened to hurt him didn't he?"

"Joel told you?" You asked.

"He didn't have to." Tommy gestured to his own cheek and you sighed realizing that your bruise was just almost completely faded. Perfect timing for the wedding.

"I can't risk anything happening to him. He's unpredictable and I'd never forgive myself if he hurt Joel." You sighed.

"Joel can handle himself." Tommy reassured you. "Look, I'm really sorry things didn't work out between you two. I've never seen him so head over heels so damn fast. My brother really loved you."

You nodded slowly and looked at him with a sigh, "He's a great guy. It won't take long for him to find someone who is actually worthy of his love."

"I just wish it could've been you." Tommy reached for his wallet and you held your hand out to stop him.

"On the house."

"It was a pleasure to know you." He said before tipping his head to you and then leaving the bar.

I wish it could've been me too, Tommy.

PREV | NEXT

[aliypop]

Fame and Fortune

Word Count: 1,257

Writers Note: In honor of the month Elvis left for The Military.

Warning: None

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: In March 1958, Elvis is in Texas for BootCamp, and Cecelia's as lonely as can be in Memphis.

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

@leapresley

@everythingelvispresley

@dreamondina94

@elvismylove04

@pocketfulofpresley

March 1958 Memphis, Tennesse

"I'll get it!" Carlotta shouted, hearing the phone ring. Carlotta Moreno was many things to Cecelia, her drummer. Her friend, right now, was helping comfort Cecelia while Elvis was away in Bootcamp, 

"Presley..." 

"Moreno..." Elvis sighed, "Is Cece near?" Elvis asked as Carlotta rolled her eyes, "She's helping your mama with something," Her accent sounded like venom to him, 

"I see could you tell my fiance I-" 

"I miss you too, El..." Cecelia said, taking the phone from Carlotta as Rosa watched alongside Gladys and Vernon. Cecelia had been wrapping the chord around her finger as she giggled, 

"Say, how's my favorite girl?"

"Well, mama's doing fine, but as for me, not good..." 

"What's wrong honey?" Elvis was worried as he heard her tone of voice shift. 

"You're not here, and it's getting lonely." 

"I'm here..." Carlotta mouthed as Cecelia pushed her away playfully, 

"I feel the same. I mean, the guys treat me regular sometimes, but I uhm miss your kisses and your honey biscuits."

"Which biscuits are we talkin about?" Cecelia smirked as Gladys cleared her throat playfully, 

"Was that my mama..." He blushed as she responded to him. Elvis missed home. He missed his family, his friends, his fiance, but. Elvis knew that in two years. He'd be back, and everything would be back to normal. He'd be asleep with Cecelia on his chest and a nice breakfast. 

"Private Presley!"

"I gotta go, Cece."

"Call me this weekend when you get to Fadal's?"

"Always." Hanging up the phone, Rosa and Gladys swooned as Carlotta groaned, 

March 1958 Fort Hood, Texas

"Who was that?" A few of the soldiers whistled as Elvis laughed, his face flushed with a rosy tint of red, "Oh, his lady friend?" Another soldier said as Elvis shrugged, "You could say that." He winked as he followed them into the mess hall. Boot camp was taxing and tiring, and as much as he could try to pretend to like it, he didn't. His body ached sometimes, and he'd remember how Cecelia would have told him not to be so rough on himself. Or how she'd be kissing the sore spots on his body with her "Magic" kisses on his skin. But when it came to him going to sleep, he'd imagine he was at home with his cousins and his mama and daddy and his grandmother and his Cecelia, who'd be tucked in his arms singing him songs. But it wasn't the same. He'd stare at the ceiling and count sheep or softly play his guitar. He'd re-read her letters or look at the picture clippings of her that he had on his wall, like a man with a pinup girl, except his pinup was Cecelia. 

"I mean... She's amazing," Elvis blushed, sitting on his bed, "I'm gonna marry her when I come back." He looked at her picture as the men began to laugh, 

"No offense, Presley, but you're definitely tired." One of the soldiers laughed, 

"I mean it, I'm gonna make her Mrs. Presley."

"Don't think that's possible," another voice said, that belonged to a black soldier. "But you got good taste." He smirked as Elvis laughed if only they knew he was serious about it, 

March 1958 Memphis, Tennesse

"So I was thinking Pink as a wedding color because Elvis and I like pink!" Cecelia squealed, flopping on the white couch as Daphane, Rosa, and Carlotta sat by her feet, "So blush and bashful?" Daphne asked as Cecelia nodded, 

"Yeah... and a Christmas wedding, we'll get married in a chapel and-" 

"And you'll kiss him in front of me..." Carlotta mumbled as Cecelia sighed, 

"Lottie..." 

"Cece..." She looked up at her as Cecelia sighed. In her eyes were their forbidden youth together,

 "We're going to bed, Cece..." Rosa mentioned as Daphne followed, "Night girls." She waved as Carlotta stood looking at her, 

"Now, back to us..."

"There is no us..." Cecelia looked at her, "I love Elvis, and you know that." Carlotta got close to her. Cecelia could smell her perfume on her skin, 

"Mi vida..."

"Elvis is my fiance. You were a fling in the past..."

"Why must you say these things..." 

"Because I don't like girls." Saying that broke Carlotta's heart, but it broke hers too. She was lying to herself, and they both knew it, 

"So you told Rosa the same thing, huh?"

"Rosa's got a thing for Scotty, and I'm getting married to Elvis," She blushed hard as Carlotta pulled her closer to herself, their eyes meeting as her hand was on her cheek, 

"Surrender to me, let's run away..." 

"To Texas..." Cecelia gasped, "Carlotta Mi amour, you are a genius !" she kissed her as Carlotta grinned, "I'm going to Texas to see my Elvis!"

"I got a kiss..."

July 1958 Fort Hood, Texas

It had been a few months now, and Elvis was adjusting. He'd go to Fadal's to hide out on the weekends and home to his family on the weekdays to make sure everyone was okay. But he was still missing someone, though he didn't want to sound like he was complaining. Cecelia's Pink Ford was in the wind as Daphne was sleeping in the back, and Rosa and Carlotta were humming to songs, 

"I don't see why you're so happy-go-lucky about Elvis..." 

"Two things, Coca-Cola and a Quarter," Rosa mentioned as Cecelia blushed. Rosa chuckled as Carlotta was confused, "What does a soda have to do with Elvis?" Carlotta asked as Rosa smirked, turning to face her, 

"Well, my little Latin Lover... It's more like his Cock- a Cola and-" 

"Okay, no more talkin about my fiance's soda pop plus a quarter and then some." Cecelia blushed as they got to Fadal's place. Cecelia and Fadal had been great friends. Thanks to her mother and promotional skills, no one would know that Cece and her Vagabonds The Garnets were in town, not even Elvis. Now, like herself, Elvis hated surprises, but she figured he'd like this one. 

"So... wait, were we talking about his Polla..." Carlotta questioned,

 "You'd rather take a Coke bottle than my fingers..." She questioned as they walked up the driveway,

"Sometimes.... Cecelia wasn't listening as she kept walking towards the door, 

"You know I could go for a nice tall glass of Coke-" the door had opened as Elvis was still in uniform. His hair was cut lower than what she was used to, but something in her wanted to hold him, 

"That's the coke you want?"

"It's not abou the bottle, Carlotta. It's about the flavor... Good night, girls!" Cecelia said as she was in Elvis's arms,

"Someone's thirsty..." Rosa smirked as they walked away,  

"What was that about?" Elvis asked as he held Cecelia in his arms, "Oh, nothing, baby... nothing..."She blushed as she kissed him, his hands in her hair as he kissed her sweet lips, 

"You look beautiful..."

"And you look tired." She rubbed circles on his cheeks as he leaned into her touch, "Couldn't sleep without'cha." His crooked smile warmed her heart, 

"Then let's get you out of this uniform and in bed."

"Yes, captain..."

*Bonus *

"Then I was playin' guitar and I-I..." Cecelia looked down as she heard him snore, "Elvis...Elvis!" She shouted. Softly, he woke up,

 "Huh?" 

"Did you fall asleep with a sandwich in your mouth?"

"What! No!..." He looked down as she laughed, "Maybe I did..." He kissed her arm and snuggled into her, taking in her scent. There was nothing like being in the arms of the woman he loved.

[daemon-in-my-head]

1 and 6 for the 4th edition past life durge asks <3

Apologies for the delay and thanks for the ask! The first one threw me for a loop lol

1. The song that describes you Durge best from your own perspective?

Knew the answer for this by heart when I created the asks but shit changes, so I'm gonna say 'Kleid aus Rosen' (dress of roses) by Subway to Sally. German song and German band so lemme give ya the gist of the song (also cuz it's hella ambigious and demands a backstory not a lot know)

A girl wants a rose tattoo, her family and fiance are against it however, saying lilies would suit her better. Now the girl, willful as she is, rejects their opinion and runs away from her home and her marriage promise to find the master who can give her the roses she wants.

The master, however, rejects her as well. Saying that sweet dahlias suit her and that roses come for a price she wouldn't want to pay. But once again, she rejects that opinion and begs him on her knees for days until he relents and starts giving her the bloody roses she so longed for.

She suffers greatly during the whole ordeal, bloody roses bloom on her neck as her skin grows pallid, but in the end, the master finishes his job.

Except the girl will never see the roses she so long for, as the price she had been warned about was her sight.

So TL;DR: wilfulness and ego became her downfall. She may have gotten what she wanted, but she's lost everything for it, including the joy of ever seeing what she so desperately desired. Pretty spot on.

There's also a bit of desperation and being tainted by sin going on in the story but that's ever more nuanced.

The chorus is basically 'master, master, give me roses. Roses on my white dress. Pierce the roses into the bare, untouched, maiden body.' As I said, there's a lot more with sin and sexuality going on too in some interpretations but the songs pretty much a 1:1 copy of an actual old as fuck lament and that's the 'og' meaning.

6. Sarevok, what was his relationship with your Durge like? Did they like each other? Was it complicated?

Complicated? Nah not rly. He despises him for what he does to Orin, but Sarevok bets on the pure Bhaalspawn. If it was up to him he'd gladly rid Sarevok of the curse of being a judge, but daddy ain't no fan of that so he gets to enjoy unlife I guess.

Did kill him in the end tho. But ofc only after turning Bhaal down and spitting in everyone's face. Slay. Literally.

[manylittleguys]

To any SCP-4231-A kins/introjects/fictives/links/etc:

I wanna start this by saying I'm writing this for me, Francis, Apollo, and Ukulele, not for any of you. We were never given closure, so now we're taking it by force. If this helps any of y'all? Great! If it doesn't? Well, it wasn't meant to.

I don't regret loving you, Lilly. Sure, you hurt Francis in ways the four of us will NEVER heal from. And I do blame you, because you did do that to him. But I will admit I can also see, now, with the perspective of other headmates who weren't there for it all, that there were things we could have done better. I'd say we were only human, but I know now that humanity is a choice you make and I'm not going to make that choice for you. We were young. We didn't know any better. We were each others' first for a lot of things. We were in our early twenties, we were reality benders, we were inexperienced. I don't blame you for making mistakes (although I do blame you for making them over and over again once you learned their consequences).

But I don't regret being your friend, and I don't regret loving you. You gave me Meri. Because of you I became one of those very same Jailors you so despised. I went from a Destroyer to a Jailor. And you know what? I might even be glad you did it all. Because becoming a Jailor was one of the best things to happen to me. I met my husband and my fiance and my partners because I was a Jailor. I met some of my closest friends because I was a Jailor. I met a guy who accidentally turned himself into a dog, a guy who spontaneously generated apple seeds, a guy who somehow always narrowly avoided death, and a lady who toyed with deadly viruses and bacteria (often anomalous) like legos to make tentacle creatures because she thought they were neat.

And I remember some nice times with you too. I remember how you helped me learn how to control what I always called my "disability" but you called our "powers". I remember playing in the creek with you, when there was no one around and our teeth were sharp and our eyes were many and our horns and antlers caught on the low-hanging tree branches and our hooves didn't help us at all in the rocky waters. I remember my mom doing her best to homeschool us because she didn't want us in public schools, and I remember neither of us could sit still very long because we wanted to be anywhere except my kitchen table sitting on wobbly chairs solving math problems in notebooks my mom had painstakingly printed for us in pen. I remember a treehouse in the middle of the forest and teaching my best friend to play ukulele, even though she was terrible at it. Because yeah, I never said it, but you were horrible with my ukulele.

I remember hiding from you in the forest because I accidentally told you that I felt more like a boy sometimes, and I remember holding your hand so tightly when we went and told my mom. I remember the three of us crying together because I should never have had to feel so afraid of my own mother, and I remember making cookies later because "bravery like yours should always be rewarded, Fran." I remember sitting up late into the night looking through baby name books we borrowed from the library so I could pick a new name. I remember when I decided I wanted it to be Francis, because it was a pretty name and it sounded so much like the old one that it wouldn't be hard to get used to the switch. I remember going to the first doctor's appointment and mom yelling at the doctors that "my son is perfectly fine! He just needs help with liking his body! A seven year old should get to love his body as much as any adult!"

I miss that. I miss the time before I slept with my legs crossed, where I was afraid to come home from weeks away at work with the GOC with the Ichabod Campaign. I miss the time before I would wake up in the middle of the night crying silently, covered in seemingly fresh bruises, coughing up blood. I miss the time before it felt like I couldn't remember anything but my childhood and that house with you, when I could never remember what I did for work. I miss the time before it felt like I couldn't remember anything but my childhood and blood and guns and the GOC. I miss the time before I was afraid of being asked to tell the truth. I miss the days before I dreaded going to sleep to the point it became hard to sleep at night.

Lilly, I hope you can see the extent of what you did to me. If you have an apology, I'll accept that you've given it, but I can't promise I'll forgive you. I can't promise that Francis or Apollo will either. I doubt that Ukulele will forgive you. If you have an explanation to give us, I'll also listen to that, but I can't promise more than that either. Regardless, I think you should know that I regret that Ukulele killed you, in the end. Apollo, and to a lesser extent Francis, had hoped that maybe, when Meri was born, it would finally stop and we could be happy again. But we also knew that the Ichabod Campaign was on it's way and we wouldn't let them have Meri.

Alto