#only one more chapter left!!!! ahh!!

[lostxmelody]

4/5.... what do you mean my last chapter was in june?

ah, sorry, sorry for the wait. here's chapter four, we're almost done! please enjoy. its the same length as the last chapter which, in case you forgot, was 40k. i have no words left to spare

[arminsumi]

S. Geto ★ Adult Store | 3

★ Chapter index | Part 1 | Part 2

★ Synopsis : Sooo... his apartment. At six. Sex. No toys. Just you and him. Sound good?

★ Warnings : 18+ content, smut, semi-public m*sturbation (at work), sexting, exchanging nudes, dirty talk, creampie, cunnilingus, toys, solo male m*sturbation, squirting, multiple orgasms, wet dreams, mentions threesome with Satoru, "sl*t"

Home | Library | Geto works | Reblog for a cake slice! 🍰

"Just like that... I'm so close."

Suguru moaned your name to himself and rolled his head back, pumping you full of his sensitive cock. He was so close to blowing inside your soft pussy.

But just before his wet dream got to the good part, he woke up. Grumbling awake, he felt sticky precum smeared on his inner thigh. So much had dribbled out his cock while dreaming of you. He nearly came in his sleep.

Hardly giving himself time to blink the sleepiness out of his eyes, he rolled over to grab his phone. Seeing your morning message made his lips curl into a smile.

📨 1 NEW

You: morningg 🥱 Suguru: morning pretty girl Suguru: i woke up a bit too excited 🙈💦 You: aw hope you dreamed of me Suguru: i did [IMG] You: needdd 🤤 the curve ahh Suguru: bet you wish it was inside you huh 🖤 You: yes pls You: so excited for tonight. i can't think about anything but you

Suguru got butterflies.

His head got foggier, and his boner was still throbbing hot against his inner thigh. Your texts got spicier, so he lazily squeezed and jerked his cock through his pants while struggling to reply with one hand.

Suguru: i'll buy extra condoms just in case You: oh... dw i'm on birth control Suguru: oh? 🙈 what are you suggesting...? You: you can cum inside me 🤍

Suguru let out a shuddery moan and accidentally came in his pants.

****

Work was slow. The adult store was quiet for most of the day. Suguru lazed around and texted you.

Suguru: this one's also a best seller atm [IMG] You: wow i wouldn't even suspect that to be a toy 😂 what is it? Suguru: it's a suction pulsation toy. you put it on your clit. You: oh? 😵‍💫 hmm sounds fun but i'd prefer your tongue Suguru: 2 more hours left of work 🥲 You: 😔💔 Suguru: glad the store is quiet tho. i'm too horny to work. You: me too. i keep squeezing my thighs together when i see your texts. you got me all sensitive and you're not even here lol Suguru: aw you should have brought a toy with to help calm you down You: yeah 😔 rlly tempted to just take a bathroom break Suguru: you could just rub yourself under your desk 👀 You: only if you guide me through it 🤍

Suguru raised his brows and felt his cheeks warm up a little. He glanced around the store. Quiet. Not a single customer had entered for over an hour.

Suguru: stroke your middle finger up and down your pussy Suguru: very gently make it almost ticklish You: okay 🤍 Suguru: cup and squeeze it too for me pretty girl Suguru: how's it feel? You: really goodd 🤤 Suguru: yeah i bet. Suguru: rub circles on your clit nice and slow. just take your time. You: okayy You: this is rlly risky 🥺 Suguru: but you're turned on aren't you? You: yess Suguru: slut 🖤

Your clit got puffier and more sensitive as you started following Suguru's instructions over text. Every now and then you had to stop for fear of someone spotting you getting off under the desk.

Your chat with him got filled with spicier messages. Suguru kept turning you on more and more, making your clit buzz.

Work? What work? It was playtime.

Suguru: good girl. don't worry about anything just get those panties wet for me. You: are you stroking yourself too 🥺 Suguru: mhm. wanna see? You: yes please Suguru: [IMG] Suguru: all for you 🖤 You: omg You: need you inside me so bad :( Suguru: uh huh bet it sucks to clench around nothing You: meanie You: go faster with me please

He'd abandoned the checkout desk and went for a "bathroom break". Suguru stroked himself faster, imagining you touching yourself with him drove him wild. And the fact you were doing it under your desk while at work?

Suguru: i'm close 🖤 You: me too please cum with me Suguru: ok pretty girl. let's cum together.

His heart fluttered at your message, and he quickly felt his orgasm build up in his cock. Suguru threw his head back and bit his lip to hold in his moan while cumming a thick load.

Suguru: oops i made a mess brb You: lol 😂 Suguru: was it good? You: really good 🤤 thank uuu Suguru: mhm. see you later 🖤

****

He was practically shaking from desire while making out with you against his apartment door; moaning into your mouth then sucking on your tongue, eagerly squeezing your hips with his veiny hands.

He was breathless, "G—good to see you." he said.

"Y—yeah. Good to see you too." you replied.

He had you pinned against his front door. Yup, immediately after having arrived at his doorstep and walking in, the two of you just lunged for each other like two pathetically horny people.

He felt delightfully dumbed by the sexual friction between you and him. His hard-on pressed flush against your body, you could feel him already leaking precum.

You kissed, he backed away playfully. You followed. Then he kept backing away to tease you.

"Are you luring me like a fish?" you chuckled.

"Yeah..."

He backed into his bedroom door and opened it swiftly.

Leaning down to kiss you, his hands cupped under your ass and felt it up while you slid your hands under his shirt.

"Take this off, please."

"Take it off yourself." he teased.

Suguru's tummy flipped when you took his shirt off. Your eyes caught on his pecs and he noticed, so he took your hand and placed it on them.

You were a little taken aback. A shyness showed on your expression as you felt how firm his body was.

"Don't be shy; touch wherever you like. Just feel my body."

"But I'm kinda..." you giggled shyly.

"Shy? It's okay, I'll fuck the shyness out of you soon enough." he said.

Yeah, you'll be too full of my dick to be able to think, let alone be shy.

****

While he rubbed his cockhead through your slit, his stomach tensed up in excitement.

Fuck, and there I was just telling her not to be shy... and now I'm so fucking nervous. What the hell... why does it feel like I'm losing my virginity all over again?

Suguru prepped you a bit more, he slid his fingers into your hole and stimulated your G-spot with ticklish circles.

Finally sinking his needy cock inside you felt like heaven. He slid in a few inches deep, and shuddered at the feeling of your shape, the ridge and texture, the little squeezes of your walls.

"It’s not too big for you, right?" he asked caringly.

"N—no."

Nah. She's gotta be lying. I can feel her cunt struggling to take me.

Yeah, you were lying — he was so thick that the stretch was all you could focus on. Your lips formed an erotic O shape, expression turning slutty even though he wasn't even bottomed out yet.

"You sure?" he smirked down at you, two veiny hands at either side of your hips, denting the bed with his weight.

Suguru inched inside until you gasped.

"Fuck! Oh that's — mmm! — big!"

Suguru groaned softly, feeling your ring of muscle constrict around him. He slid in and out slowly to get his cock soaked.

"I don't know if I can take it..." you moan.

His cock curved up into your G-spot and you let out a shuddery moan.

"Don't worry. I'll stretch you out." he purred before giving you a hard kiss. "Just hold onto my arms."

****

“Fuck! Right there!” you screamed into the pillow.

Suguru softly grunted and focused his eyes on the sight of his cock moving in and out of your pussy. You fisted your hands into the messed up bedsheets.

When he felt his orgasm start to build up, he suddenly pulled out of you.

“Nooo, put it back in!” you cried, kicking your feet.

“Just a second, baby.” he murmured sweetly.

He smirked down at you and planted a hard slap on your ass, causing you to jolt forward and groan.

Sliding back in made him momentarily close his eyes, because your walls hugged him so perfectly.

“Mmm!” you kicked your feet around again when he started up his thrusting again.

Suguru wasn’t merciless with how he fucked you into the mattress, but he really wanted to be. He was holding back so hard just to make sure you could enjoy yourself completely.

Sometimes he’d start pounding into you and then self-consciously eased off when he heard you whimpering.

“Are you okay?” he giggled into your ear.

“Y-yes! Do that again, please.”

He flipped you onto your back and pushed your legs back, splitting them wide open for him.

****

Suguru fucked you into a quick orgasm and his own followed immediately after he felt your pussy milking his cock.

“Oh my god…” he giggled into the crook of your neck, “I’m so sorry. I thought I’d last longer than that…”

You laughed with him. Suguru hovered over your back, his bangs dangling over his eye, and he kissed from your shoulder down middle of your back. His two hands roughly grabbed and pried apart your ass cheeks, thumbing into your creampied pussy. Some of his cum dribbled out.

You hummed and wiggled your ass for him.

Fuck. I think I just fell in love.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asked softly.

“Yes please. I feel so wet and sticky.” you laughed.

He smacked your ass again and slowly slid off the bed, scouring for your panties before his boxers. He helped you slide them back on.

****

While you went off to shower, Suguru dressed up and went into the thin kitchen.

He checked his phone.

📨 3 NEW

Satoru: stop ignoring me hoe Satoru: ARE U GUYS STILL HAVING SEX OMG IT’S BEEN 3 HOURS??? Satoru: WTF KINDA STAMINA DOES SHE HAVE Suguru: lol u sound lonely Satoru: omg finally 😿 Suguru: i think i wanna marry her 😔 Satoru: WAHT WAS IT THAT GOOD???? Satoru: UR STILL MY BEST FRIEND RIGHT?? Suguru: yes Satoru: is she down for a threesome???? 👀 Suguru: wtf satoru 😂 Satoru: JOKING 🙄🙄 ask her tho Suguru: i'm blocking you Satoru: babyyy don't b like this!! sharing is caring!! 😍 Suguru: 😑

****

When you got out the shower and clothed yourself, you smelled something good cooking. Suguru wasn’t in the bedroom anymore, so you went to the kitchen.

The tiny round table by the window was dressed up with a white cloth and a single candle in the center.

“What’s this, a dinner date or something?” you asked.

“Yeah, well, I just I thought you might be, uh, hungry…” he said shyly. “… after all that exercise, you know.”

You gave him a flirty look, then sat down to eat.

****

He was giggling hard. His cheeks were hot.

“So, what’s for dessert?” that’s what you had asked to fluster him.

“What if I eat you out right here on the table?” he suggested, and you both went silent.

Suguru tilted his head at you and waited for your response.

Your response? Spreading your legs on the table for him, of course.

Suguru nuzzled his face deep between your thighs, dark hair tickling your skin.

He placed worshipping kisses on top of your pussy, then swiftly stripped your panties off. They dangled on your ankles while he nosed in your pussy, kissing and licking it like it was his dessert.

Of course, Suguru Geto was the type of boy to get hard from going down on a girl. His cock pulsed and twitched in his loose sweatpants.

You gasped when he sucked on your clit and nudged it with his tongue.

He looked up at you through his messy hair, sharp eyes observing your reactions to his skilled-tongue fucking. Your juices gushing down his chin drove him nuts.

“Oh, shit that’s good!” you cried, grabbing a fistful of hair and eliciting a moan from him that you felt vibrating on your clit.

He gasped for a breath, pulled away momentarily but then dove right back in as if he didn't need air as desperately as he needed pussy.

As soon as you started squirming around, Suguru hooked his arms around your body to keep you firmly in place.

His back muscles flexed while he ate you out. Yes, his knees hurt a bit from kneeling on the tiled kitchen floor for an hour, but it was worth it to get you squirting all over his pretty face.

Suguru withdrew from your pussy and wiped the streak of your juices off his cheek with a swipe of his thumb.

“Thanks for dessert.” he murmured, “Tasted really good.”

★ Tags : @ackachii / @qmsvpx / @aydene / @seaweedsaiki / @sadisticmfqueen / @vanyareads / @katsukis-lilbunnywhore / @mp3playerblog / @223princess / @collectionofdolls / @chimmysoftpaws / @halloweenmedic / @roronoaslover / @cherrymoon4 / @nctstrcngencugh / @nitskilanara / @thirtykiwis / @xxbuckpoppi / @dswdo / @p1nkfluffysocks / @yooniesweetheart / @crmdlls / @grimreaqueer / @mmeerraa / @witchbybirth

Please message my inbox or comment on this fic to be added/removed to the taglist for updates.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 2 - To The Brig With Ye

Step 1: Get Heat on your side.

WC: 4.5k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

You were surprised to wake up at all when you came to, in what you assumed was some sort of infirmary. The room tilted back and forth slightly, so you assumed you must still be on the ship at the very least. Your eyes fluttered open, finding a face suddenly far too close to your own.

“AHH!” you and Heat both shouted at once, the blue haired man scurrying backwards.

“Heat, for fucks sake I told you not to hover in her face like that!” A feminine voice scolded. You groaned as you tried to sit up, seeing a blue haired woman, her hair wild with spikes that looked like horns, a small set of round glasses, and a black dress bearing some sort of stylized cross. House. She was using a pipette to drip some sort of dark red liquid onto your exposed wound, which looked and felt nowhere near as bad as you thought it would, considering how deep the knife had gone. Your confusion was explained away as the red droplets hit your skin and you watched the flesh begin to sew itself closed, but it only brought up more questions in its place. You'd never seen something like that in One Piece, but then again this world was vast and strange, and people did always seem to heal fast here.

“Sorry, one more minute,” House spoke to you, drawing up more crimson into the pipette and dripping it onto the wound, the last sliver of open wound mending itself closed. “Okay, all done.”

“Uh thanks, House right?” You asked her, running your hand over the healed flesh, not even feeling a scar. It was like nothing had happened at all, save for the rouge red drips of whatever she'd used that remained on your skin before she hurriedly wiped it away with a damp cloth.

“Um, yes,” she replied unsurely, looking to Heat for clarity as she removed her latex gloves and threw them in a nearby bin. She'd seen the entire exchange on the deck, nobody had told you her name, and yet you somehow knew it. House didn't have a bounty poster, as the doctor of the Kid Pirates she hardly ever left the ship, so while it was understandable that you knew who the big four were, there shouldn't have been anyway you knew her name. “I'm gonna go let the captain know she's awake,” she addressed Heat, a distinct nervous tone to her voice, before scurrying out of the room, leaving you alone with the tall man, who shifted his weight between his feet awkwardly.

“What's your name?” He asked shyly.

“[Y/n],” you smiled.

“[Y/n]...” he repeated to himself, a slight blush to his cheeks, “Did you mean what you said?”

“What bit?” You rubbed your eyes with the palm of your hand, trying to piece together what had happened between getting hit by a bus and getting stabbed. “Oh, the sex dream stuff? Absolutely, baby” you winked at him, making him blush even more.

“No!” He choked on his breath, hands waving in defence, “I meant- the isekai bit!!”

“Ohhhhhh,” you blinked slowly, “I mean it's my best explanation for what happened. I'm like ninety-nine percent sure I got hit by a bus, and now I'm here. This whole world is supposed to be fictional, if this is just a dream then I shouldn't have been able to feel pain, but I certainly fucking felt it”

“And that's why you knew House's name?” He asked, stepping a little closer to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, it didn't even occur to me that I shouldn't know it,” you hummed, taking a moment to properly observe the room you were in now. It was darkly decorated in blacks and forest greens, the occasional violet pop of colour, none of the usual sterile whites and creams you'd expect of an infirmary, with two oversized beds (likely meant for larger crewmates), one of which you were currently laying in. Each bed had a side table, a table on wheels that fit over the bed, and a small plain chair for visitors. The whole room was almost a semi circle, save for the section missing on one side where you could see a door, likely to a bathroom. The opposite corner along the flat wall held cabinets and a counter, probably filled with medical supplies, with a small desk in front of it, a chair either side likely for doctor and patient. The beds were also along the flat wall, with a door to your left and another door in the centre of the curved wall in front of you, a small, green velvet couch to its left. The anime and manga had never shown the internals of the ship, but the curved walls and round portholes along them made you wonder if you were inside the forecastle, just behind the large dinosaur skull that acted as a figurehead for the ship. Your eyes came back to Heat, who stood next to your bed, waiting expectantly for an answer. “Yeah I mean, she's not really a well known character, but I guess you could say I'm a big Kid Pirates fan, so I remember a few more obscure characters.”

“From… a manga, you said, right?”

“Yeah. You're familiar with the isekai trope?” you didn't feel like explaining that it was an anime too, you weren't even sure if this world had cartoons.

“I am,” he mused, “and I guess weirder things have happened in this world. But we're gonna need proof, and I don't know how I'm gonna convince Kid”

You thought on that for a moment, “I think I can provide proof,” you mused, “has the crew been to Sabaody yet?”

“No, we're close though,” he told you hesitantly, not sure how much information he should reveal while he not so subtly eyed your body; you'd all but forgotten you were naked. You probably should have covered yourself up but it felt like a bit of a too little, too late situation. The whole crew had probably seen your tits at this point, not that it bothered you much. It wouldn't hurt to placate him either, it would be good to know at least one person on the crew had a fondness for you when it came to convincing Kid to keep you alive. If things really went tits up here you could always try your luck with the Straw Hats, but given the timing that would be difficult, you would have to stay on Sabaody for two years before you could try and join them. Maybe Shakky would let you stay with her in the meantime. Your preference though was to stay with the Kid Pirates, your favourite One Piece crew, and usually the subject of your sexy dreams and explicit fanfiction searches.

Heavy footsteps outside caught both of your attentions, Heat taking a few steps back to stand at a more respectful distance as the infirmary door flew open. Unsurprisingly, Kid stomped in, followed by Killer, and Wire, who shut the door behind him. Kid stood at the end of your bed, looking at you discerningly, an angry scowl on his face.

“Talk,” he said plainly.

“Boss, I think I can explain,” Heat told him, “what she said about isekai, I don't think she's from this world”

“The fuck is ‘isekai’” he growled, billowing his cape up so he could sit on the couch without catching it underneath him. Killer and Wire stood at either side of him like guard dogs, unsure of your capabilities, weary given the fact you'd appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the sea without a devil fruit power to get you here. There was no way of telling what powers you had or how you might suddenly use them.

“It's a trope, in manga,” Heat tried to explain, “the protagonist is sent to another world. Usually they die and get reincarnated, or some sort of god sends them there, to a usually fantasy world. I think that's what happened here, she claims she knows us because we're fiction in her world, and that she appeared here after she died in her world. Its a classic isekai premise.”

“Bullshit, she knows us from our bounty posters,” Kid huffed, unconvinced by Heats explanation.

“She knew House's name,” Heat replied. There was a pregnant silence as Kid considered that, his eyes flicking between you and Heat.

“Okay, so she's… from another world. If I chose to believe that,” Kid grumbled, “and she knows us because what? We're a comic book or some shit? They got comic books about the great Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid over there?”

“Well… they're not really about you per say,” you replied delicately, knowing the truth would piss him off.

“Then who the fuck could they be about?” Kid puffed up his chest, “why would they write about anyone other than the future King of Pirates?”

“They're uh… about Monkey D. Luffy…” you replied quietly. “Not that you're not also a very popular character!” You quickly added.

“STRAW HAT?” Kid roared, spooking you as he suddenly stood, “fucking STRAW HAT gets a comic book? Nah, fuck that, put this lying bitch in the brig.”

“Wait! Wait!” You quickly shouted, climbing further up the bed to avoid Killer's reaching hands, “I can prove it! I can tell you what'll happen when you get to Sabaody!”

“Sabaody is weeks out,” Kid huffed, “I ain't waitin’ for your lyin’ ass to be proven wrong so you can sit around in the meantime and find an opening to kill one of us. Devil fruit or no, you were obviously sent here to stop the best competition for finding the One Piece”

“Really? You think someone sent me here naked? Slammed me against the mast, no weapons, no devil fruit, no fighting skills, to kill you?” You rolled your eyes, “I can give you other proof, I can”

“Then fucking give me your proof, mouse,” Kid growled, the bed creaking as he leaned over you, his hands either side of your body. He probably wanted to intimidate you with his large form, but really it only served to make you a little horny.

“Killer wears purple lipstick,” you hurriedly shouted, the first thing that popped into your head as you searched for information only they should know. The room went silent before Kid suddenly wrapped a hand around your throat. He squeezed it threateningly, then he threw you back with a frustrated growl, letting you go as he moved to leave the room. He gave Killer a knowing look before turning back to Heat.

“Chain her in the brig,” Kid hissed, “I don't know where she learned that but I don't fucking trust her. Put her in iron too, there must be some trick, witch or some shit”

There was a flurry of movement as you were again left alone with Heat, Killer sparing you an unreadable look before slamming the infirmary door, clearly angry. You didn't like that you had to expose him like that, even if everyone in the room likely already knew that information, but it was him or you, and you had to act in self defence. Not that it'd helped in the end though either, as Heat apologetically dragged you off the bed and clamped your arms behind your back, wrapping one large hand around both of your small wrists at once to secure you as he led you out of the room.

Eyes followed you silently as you were led across the deck, still naked as the day you were born, revealing you had in fact been in the forecastle. Heat took you directly across to the rear of the ship, opening a door and leading you through a galley. The short view you got of the galley revealed a long room, with a serving window and counter on the left that peeked through to a moderately sized industrial looking kitchen. On the right was some sort of stage at the very end of the room, short stairs on either side leading up to the platform that currently held a long table surrounded by six chairs, a small liquor bar behind it. On the main floor between you and the stage were five long tables, a bench style seat along either side. The walls were decorated in band posters, bounty posters, photos of the crew together, newspaper clippings and all manner of souvenirs pinned to the walls, covering them in what spoke of a crew that acted more like a family, with many happy memories together all memorialised along the dining hall walls.

Heat led you to a staircase at the left of the room, following you down into a hall that was noticeably colder than above, likely due to being particularly below sea level. There was a short hall that split into two longer ones, they looked as though they made a loop around a center set of rooms, the walls lined with doors, no doubt bedrooms and storage rooms. He didn't lead you down either of the long halls, instead taking you to the end of the short one where a steep staircase, practically a ladder, led even further down to the hull of the ship. Heat gave you a little shove forward and you took the hint with a sigh, at least thankful that he'd let go of your wrists now so you could climb down.

You waited patiently at the bottom of the ladder beside a closed door as Heat climbed down after you. He fiddled with a set of keys that hung from his belt, unlocking the door and opening it, beckoning you to pass through. Inside was a series of cells, four in total, with iron bars at their fronts, each with a set of bare bunk beds with thin, stained mattresses, and a metal bucket in the corner, likely in lieu of a toilet. Unexpectedly, each cell was also trimmed in what looked like some sort of ancient symbols written along the floors and walls, a dark rusty colour that made you wonder if they were written in blood. The writing looked like something straight out of a dark fantasy show, with the occasional recognizable pentagram or latin in neat cursive letters. The doors to all four cells were open, seemingly unoccupied, and Heat gestured for you to enter the second, which sat directly across from a small desk, decorated only with a plain wooden chair and simple lamp.

You stood inside the cell, shivering as the air was considerably colder now that you were well under sea level, chilled by the cold ocean around you. The walls and floors offered no warmth, plated in what appeared to be stone, seastone perhaps. The wall behind the desk was lined with hooks holding multiple sets of cuffs in different styles. Heat selected a set of iron cuffs, with only three links between each wrist, and you sighed as you willingly held your hands out for him. There was no point fighting it, and forcing Heat to subdue you would only go against your plans to bring him to your side.

“Sorry about this,” he said softly as he closed the cuffs around your wrists. His hands were so warm against yours, reminding you of your current frigid situation.

“Can I have a blanket or something?” you pleaded, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“I.. I don't know if I'm allowed,” Heat replied, a tint of sadness to his voice.

“Maybe we can trade?” You offered, “I.. I only have my body, but maybe I can give you something in return for a blanket?” Was whoring yourself out a good idea? Probably not, given the circumstances, but you'd freeze to death down here if you didn't at least try. Besides, its not like you didn't want to fuck Heat. At this point you didn't have high hopes for surviving this world, but if you got laid with one of your favs then maybe it'd be at least a tiny bit redeemable.

“A trade?” He raised a brow, “like what?”

“What do you want?” You asked him, using your best sultry voice, experimentally pressing a hand to his chest and running it down slowly, pleasantly surprised when he didn't shy away from you. He shivered at the touch, your skin bare against his as your hand reached the bottom of his corset.

“Fuck, okay,” he growled, looking back at the door to the brig to check he had shut it, “on your knees, for a blanket”

“Yes sir,” you purred, perhaps a little too eager for Heat's dick. You would have traded a blowjob for a corn chip, if you were being honest with yourself. You fell to your knees slowly, trailing your fingertips down his midriff till they caught on the belt of his baggy pants. Raised on your knees, you could barely reach the flesh of his abdomen with your mouth as you hooked your fingers in the metal loops on his belt and used it as leverage to lower his pants, pressing your lips to the newly exposed flesh. He made a sharp exhale as your tongue came out to run over the V that led to his cock, pulling his pants down teasingly slowly and looking up at him with sultry eyes as his hand buried in your hair. Finally his pants lowered enough to expose his cock, long and girthy even at half mast, slightly more bulbous at the end with a set of three piercings along the underside, another at the tip, and a base of blue public hair, slightly darker than the hair on his head. He shivered as the cool air touched his exposed cock, quickly overruled by a groan as you took it in your bound hands and pumped the base, promptly becoming erect from your firm, warm touch.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to do this,” you purred, pressing your tongue to the tip, playing with the piercing and rolling your tongue over the fat head of his dick. He groaned as you took the end in your mouth, only taking a third of him as you began to bob your head, stroking the rest with your hand as you slowly adjusted and took a little more with each movement.

“Oh fuck, that's good,” Heat groaned, his hold on your hair tightening as you slowly worked towards taking all of his impressive length into your eager mouth, drool starting to drip down your chin as you focused on not gagging, breathing through your nose to suppress your natural urges. Your eyes watered as he started to hit the back of your throat, his hips making small thrusts in time with your movements, trying his best to hold back from just grabbing your skull and face fucking you. He'd been pent up for a while now, with a long stint between islands with working women, and a distinct lack of women in the meantime who were willing to risk their safety to sleep with the tall, stitched up man. By all accounts he looked terrifying to most women, so your willingness to get on your knees was certainly a nice surprise, seemingly having no issue with the way he looked. He felt bad at first for taking advantage of you, but the way you kept eye contact and hollowed your cheeks around his cock told him you wanted this, that the blanket was just an excuse to get in his pants. Really he should be the one feeling used, but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but euphoric with the divine way your mouth was working his cock.

You paused as your nose hit his pubes, your now idle hands coming up to play with his balls, gagging a little as you swallowed around his cock. “Ohhhh fuck,” Heat groaned, looking down at you with his dick fully burried in your hot wet mouth. “Look at you, taking it like a proper slut, you like that huh? Like having my cock down your throat?”

You pulled off his cock with a pop as your thighs rubbed together in a desperate need for friction, you wouldn't be surprised if you were dripping on the floor at this point from how wet you were. “I'd like it better in my cunt,” you replied, stroking him with both hands, hoping above all that he'd take the bait and fuck you silly.

“Yeah? And what would you want to trade for that, huh?” He growled, wondering what game you were playing to be so willing, questioning whether this really was just a trick.

“One of your blankets,” you purred, running your tongue up the underside of his cock and feeling the piercings roll against it. “I want one that smells like you”

“Why are you so obsessed with me?” Heat replied, genuinely taken aback by your answer. He'd never known a woman to want him that bad, let alone just want something that smelt like him. It was making him feel sparks of something unfamiliar, possessiveness perhaps, fondness definitely.

“Because you're sweet, and you're sexy, you're one of my favourites,” you shrugged, “are you gonna fuck me or not? The stone is hurting my knees and my cunt is fucking dripping”

“Fuck,” Heat huffed, pulling you by your hair to stand and crashing his mouth against yours, groaning as he found you more than willing to return his affections. He walked you backwards until your body was flush with the cell wall, nipping at your bottom lip before he pulled away and spun you to face the wall. You arched your back and stuck your butt out for him, your tits squished against the stone as Heat admired your round ass. He gave it a playful spank, making you whine, before he grabbed handfuls of your ass cheeks and pulled them apart to admire your soaked pussy. “Fuck, you weren't lying, you're really fucking wet”

Unable to resist a taste, he knelt behind you and buried his face in your center, motorboating your cunt, your slick coating his face. He groaned against your pussy as his tongue zeroed in on your clit, making you moan and push back against him. His hands held your ass firmly, squeezing it to keep you in place as he sucked and lapped at your clit, before standing back up, running his tongue over your entrance and asshole as he moved.

“So fucking wet for me, so sweet too,” he groaned, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with your needy entrance, your hips wiggling as you whined pleadingly. “Hold still, fuck,��� you only managed to still for a moment before he pressed in, bullying his tip inside you and stretching your underprepared cunt wide. “Ah fuck, so tight,” he grunted as he slid inside you, bringing one hand to your mouth to clamp over it and muffle your sounds as you began to scream at the stretch.

His fingers slid into your mouth and you sucked them greedily, moaning around them as he bottomed out inside you. “Good girl, fuck, good little slut,” he groaned, giving you only a moment to adjust before he was dragging back out again, leaving only his tip inside you as he slammed back in. His fingers left your mouth so he could hold your hips firmly, fucking you hard and fast with the intention of making you both cum quickly before anyone caught you in the act, his cock heavy against your g-spot and stimulating it deliciously with every hard thrust he made. Your palms were flat against the wall, holding you steady as your body took the brunt of each impact, breasts grazing on the stone wall and drool transfering to the cool surface as Heat fucked you mercilessly.

He pulled you a little away from the wall, your tits now bouncing with every thrust as they hung freely until Heat reached underneath you and grabbed them, pulling you up and holding you with your back flush to his chest, one hand groping your tits still while the other wrapped around your throat, slowly travelling upwards till his fingers were buried in your mouth again, muffling your moans against the wet slapping of his body against yours. His teeth grazed your neck, wishing he could sink his fangs into you as they grew in his mouth, canines extending unbeknownst to you and running over your skin, knowing if he made a mark he would be caught. He was having trouble keeping in control of himself as you sucked on his fingers and your pussy fluttered around his cock, gummy walls clamping down around him as your eyes rolled back and you came on his cock without warning. A creamy ring formed around his base as he kept fucking you hard, chasing his own high now and trying to figure out where would be appropriate to cum.

“Get on your knees again,” he ordered, pulling his fingers from your mouth and withdrawing his throbbing cock from your cunt. You dropped to your knees willingly, opening your mouth invitingly for him with your tongue stuck out. He considered just jerking himself off over your face, painting your pretty fucked out expression with his cum, but worried about your inability to clean yourself off down here, so instead he shoved his cock down your throat, holding your hair with both hands as he began to use you rougher than he intended. You moaned around him at the surprising treatment, eyes streaming with unintentional tears as his cock gagged you with every hard thrust, until he finally stilled with his shaft balls deep in your mouth and you felt the hot cum pouring down your throat, his hands pulling your hair while he grunted. You shivered at the feeling, almost cumming again from it, playing with your oversensitive clit as he unloaded in your mouth. He pulled away slowly, the last drops of cum spilling against your tongue as you licked the tip. He slapped your cheek with his softening cock, giving you an appreciative grin as he slid his finger into your still open mouth and played with your tongue.

“I hope Kid decides not to kill you,” he mused as he helped you to your feet, pinning you against the wall again, his hand running up your thigh and hip till it came to rest at your waist. “Would be a real shame to waste a good set of holes like that”

“Tell him to come try me himself, maybe that'll convince him,” you suggested, “unless you wanna keep me all to yourself”

“Mm, tempting,” he mused, running a thumb over your bottom lip, “I don't mind sharing though, besides, I doubt I could keep you to myself even if I wanted to if one of the others decided they wanted a turn. Maybe we'll make you our ship whore”

“I'm not opposed to that,” you purred. Heat made a huff and started stepping away.

“Fuck, you really are a Kid Pirate fan huh?” He laughed, “I'll get you your blanket, but be a good girl and behave yourself until I can convince Kid to let you go”

“I'll be on my best, naughtiest behaviour,” you winked, shivering a little now that you didn't have his warm body to keep you heated. He frowned as he watched you shiver, realising how much you really did need the blanket.

“I'll find you some clothes too,” he said softly before turning to leave, disappearing before you even had a chance to respond.

[Next Chapter]

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Taglist: @chershire23 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @nocturnalrorobin @eyes-ofhell @hellcatsworld @miyomoko-sora @loserbee14 @tzimiscequeen-blog @lansy-4

[the-oblivious-writer]

Pretty Girl |1|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter One: Pretty

Summary: Tara Carpenter almost misses curfew after spending some of the night at your place for movie night..Sam's not too pleased

Warning(s): Swearing

Notes: Originally was supposed to just be a one-shot but if I find the motivation in me, I might make a part two

Next part

Tara’s head softly laid on your shoulder, her arms loosely wrapped around your waist while your jacket was on top of her. She was asleep but you didn’t know what to do. It was almost past her curfew and Sam would be so pissed if she wasn’t home in time.

You don’t need to give Sam another reason to not want you around her little sister. You had to wake her up and get her home in time…but she looks so calm while resting, you couldn’t help but notice the bags under her eyes in the past few days.  

It made you wonder if the nightmares had started again, if that was the case then she most likely hasn’t been getting much sleep. So how could you just wake her up? But you’ll get her grounded and probably murdered by Sam! 

While you’re fighting with yourself on this you hear shuffling and look down to the younger Carpenter. Her eyes are heavy as she tries to open them. 

“What time is it?” Tara mumbles but clear enough that you understood her. She saw you shift a bit nervously. “Y/N..what time is it?” she asks with more strictness in her voice.

“Eleven forty eight” You reply and her eyes widen, she looks at the clock then back at you. 

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Tara says as she frantically gets off of you and grabs her things. You get up and talk as you follow her around.

“Your apartment isn’t that far from me, don’t worry if we leave now we can make it in time” You state, trying to ease her anxiety. 

You’re both putting on your shoes and as soon as you stand up Tara grabs your hand and runs out the door, dragging you through your apartment hallway and down the stairs to your car.

You make it with only two minutes to spare. “Okay we’re here, now go before you get another lecture” You remarked. 

“Kinda need you to come up with me though, you’re my alibi” You instantly sigh when that sentence leaves her mouth. “Tara, you know Sam hates me and she kinda scares me not even gonna li-” 

“One minute and thirty two seconds left!” Tara exclaimed. You opened the car door and she gave you a quick smile before hooking her arm into yours and dragging you into the apartment building.

She’s always dragging you around. Not like you ever complained about it. 

You both make it up to the apartment and as soon as she unlocks the door you're met with a few faces. Mindy, Anika, Ethan and Chad are playing monopoly. Snacks are scattered around and a couple beer cans were there. 

They all instantly look at you and Tara, awkward silence fills the air and you’re not sure what to do. You end up giving a tight lipped smile and raise your hand to greet them. 

“I was just uh dropping her of-” before you could finish your sentence Sam enters the room and you instantly shut your mouth when you see she seems annoyed. 

“Where were you Tara?” the older Carpenter immediately asked. “Movie night at Y/N’s. Where else?” Tara responded with an attitude.

“So she didn’t help sneak you off to another frat party?”

—-

Ahh, there it is. You knew it would be brought up at some point the next time you saw Sam. A few weeks ago you had snuck Tara out to a frat party but when you came back you were met with a very, very displeased Sam Carpenter. 

She started lecturing Tara and in an attempt to take some of the blame off of her you cut in. 

You dumb, dumb, adorable fool Tara had thought to herself when you start snitching on yourself.

“It was me. She wanted to go but gave up cause you said no. So I uh came up with the ‘bright’ idea to come by her window, sneak her out and take her with my car. I kept an eye on her! Promise to-”  Tara cut off your rambling with a look that said to stop talking. 

Sam took a deep breath in and out while rubbing her temples. She ended up grounding Tara for two weeks and she wasn’t allowed to go see you in that time. You were a bad influence! How could she let you near her little sister again?

Come on, seriously coming in through her window. Who did you think you were, Christian Slater? 

Tara was eventually ungrounded and you were the first person she went to. Sam was annoyed by this, she didn’t get Tara’s obsession with you but Chad and Mindy just smirked at hearing Tara practically dashed out the door to go see her ‘friend’. 

—-

Now, back to the super awkward tension in the air. “Welp” you exclaimed, slightly throwing your hands in the air. “This has been spectacularly awkward but it’s getting late so I should probably get going.” 

“Great, leave” Sam said, walking to sit down not before earning a scowl from Tara.

You turn to Tara,"I’ll see you, tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she said as she looked up at you. “We’ll meet at our usual coffee spot.” You couldn’t help but notice how Tara’s stare lingered on you. She glanced down at your lips for a quick moment then looked back into your eyes. 

Did she..want you to make a move? 

No! Of course not. Why the hell would she?

“Text me when you get home” she says and you nod.

“You look pretty..” You said lowly, almost mumbling. 

“What did you say?” she asks, a blush appears on her face.

“Uhh I said you look shitty, goodnight Carpenter!” You said quickly and ran out the door.

Her friends watched the whole thing, but Tara was so caught up in the moment she forgot everybody else was there. She bit her lip and smiled. 

You’re such a fucking dork..an incredibly cute dork she thought to herself.

-----

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @mochie85 | divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

Summary: It's been a long time coming... But now the day for you and Loki to say 'Yes' and enter the bond of marriage has finally arrived. A covenant for eternity.

Chapter Zero - Counting the days until I can make you mine...

Warnings for this Chapter: none besides fluff

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: We finally kick off the Baby Fever wedding! Ahhhh, I'm BEYOND excited! 🥳 HUGE thanks to every wonderful person who has been a part of this story! You've been fantastic! All your ideas and endless creativity. The love you gave and still give this AU... I am blessed! 🙏🏼 I loved working with y'all! 🤍

Now... Without further ado... Enjoy the first chapter!

💍 Chapter One 💍

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• A Covenant for Eternity Masterlist (coming soon!)

You were standing in front of the stove inside the big communal kitchen of the Avengers compound; baking your world famous chocolate caramel cupcakes. Everybody loved the sweet treat. Even Nick.

It was a little gesture from you - and Loki - who actually wanted to help you, in order to show your gratitude towards everybody who helped you organise your wedding. With Natasha leading the way as your maid of honour and of course Thor as Loki's best man.

Currently you were preparing the caramel cream; humming along to the music which blasted through the over-ear headphones on your head. Since turning sugar into caramel took its time, you definitely needed some entertainment. If you only knew where your soon-to-be husband was...

Once you had added the cream to the caramel and kept on stirring the mixture inside the pot to Taylor Swift's '22', you couldn't help but move to the tones. But once the next song came on, your heart skipped not just one beat... With your eyes widening and lips parting into a big, dreamy smile, you immediately recognised that Spotify just decided to hit you with one of the two songs you were going to have your wedding dance to with Loki - wonderful memories to me made.

The coordinated stirring turned into aimless scratching across the bottom of the pot as your thoughts drifted off; reminiscing in the past and creating the future.

"Which constellation is that over there, my love?" Your gaze followed the direction Loki pointed to. "Uhh..." You frowned in concentration, "I think that should be Cassiopeia - but..." and squinted your eyes. "Something isn't right..." "What do you mean, love?" "There's a star in the constellation that shouldn't be there... Cassiopeia looks like a 'W', but... there's a star too much. It doesn't belong there." Loki let out a short gasp of realisation. "Ahh you mean that one star on the top left corner?" "Yes! Can you see it? Why is it there? This actually can't be..." A knowing smile crept up Loki's face. "Well, about that, I think I have an answer for that." You blinked at your boyfriend in confusion. "You have?" He nodded and sat up, before he summoned some magic. "Look up, my love." You were still confused, but did what Loki said, looked back at the wrong star constellation - and gasped. "W-What is happening now?" The extra star had started to shine brightly all of a sudden and with a snap of Loki's fingers, it... sunk down? Straight towards the two of you. Your eyes widened, as you grabbed on the God's forearm. "L-Lokes, what's... What's that? What's happening?!" Loki just smiled, with the star getting closer and closer. "Lokiiii!" The closer it came, the smaller it got, which left you even more confused. But you soon noticed, that it actually wasn't a star... It was something different... Something shiny... You watched with awe, as the 'star' flew straight into Loki's opened palm. It was a... ring with a shining green emerald on top? You had been so utterly fascinated by the spectacle above you, that you didn't recognise that your boyfriend had gotten on one knee beside you, neither that he was dressed in an all-black suit now. Your brain tried to process what was happening and when you had connected the dots, your eyes widened... A ring. Loki, wearing a suit, kneeling in front of you. This was a proposal.

Your smile even widened as the song led you down memory lane; causing you to experience Loki's proposal all over again.

Loki smiled softly and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "That was the start of everything... We talked a lot, met up in the library to read together, went on dates and at some point... You just kissed me. The rest is history. I had never been happier in my life, than I am with you now. I spent my whole life searching for a meaning - a glorious purpose... And then I realised, that you are what I was always searching for. You are my glorious purpose, Y/N. You showed me a whole new world. A world filled with love and kindness. You have given this new world to me and now I want to ask you, if you'd like to become my world..." The God took another deep breath, before he popped the question. "Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honour to make you entirely and for always mine? Will you marry me?"

You were sunken so deep in the song and the memories, that you didn't notice Loki entering the communal kitchen.

"Apologies, my love, I know I am late, but Rogers-" The god already rumbled out an apology, only to freeze in his motion as he realised a few seconds later that you were totally lost in your thoughts. He could tell. Must be some very good thoughts, Loki noted and decided to approach you gently.

He tiptoed over to the stove and kitchen counter; coming to stand behind you. Loki lurked over your shoulder; gazing from your smiling face down to the almost burnt caramel cream and back up to you. He hated to rip you out of your seemingly wonderful daydream, but he had to, right?

Slowly wrapping one arm around your waist, Loki lifted one shell of the headphones. "I apologise for interrupting your daydream, my love, but you should really keep on stirring this sugary treat."

His mouth so close to your ear; the hot breath leaving his lips and his deep, but gentle voice did the trick and ripped you out of your thoughts.

You flinched slightly; blinking rapidly, "Loki?" before your brain managed to caught up. "Oh shit!" You yelped up and quickly stirred the caramel cream, all the while reducing the heat.

Loki chuckled from behind you; wrapping both his arms around your waist and pulling you closer against his body. "Apologies, darling, but I just had to..." You sighed; blushing. "Thank you, babe... I-I, uh, got lost in my thoughts." Loki's chest vibrated with another chuckle, "I noticed." before he pressed a kiss against your neck. "What were you thinking about? You looked so happy."

The mere mention caused you to smile again. "You, of course." "Me?" "Mhh..." You manoeuvred the pot from the stove and turned in Loki's embrace. "Spotify decided to hit me with 'Can't Help Falling in Love' and well... Since our wedding is still yet to come, it took me to the very evening you proposed to me."

The god couldn't help but smile as well. He pressed his forehead against yours; thumbs caressing the clothed skin of your lower back. "I love to return to this memory of ours. I could swear that I still see the sparkle in your eyes. The beautiful look on your face when you said 'Yes' will be forever carved into my mind."

You nodded. "Just like I will never forget the way you asked the question. You in that suit, with the ring resting in your palm..." You quickly glanced at your hand, which was laying on Loki's shoulder; your engagement ring shining in the sun. "... and you down on your knee in front of me..."

Mischief suddenly twinkled in your fiancé's eyes, as the corners of his lips lifted. "You can have me down on my knees for you anytime, love." You gasped at his very ambiguous comment, "Lokiii!" and gently slapped his shoulder. "I was being so romantic and then you just pull it on the dirty side!" The god just giggled, "Apologies, my love, but I couldn't let this opportunity slip." and dipped his head to kiss you.

"No, but honestly, darling... I meant what I said. I love to return to this moment." You smiled; kissing him again.

"Remember when we told my parents?" Loki asked then after a short moment of silence. "Oh, yes, of course. Frigga was so happy..." Loki snorted out a small, happy laugh. "She cried of happiness." You nodded. "She did."

Another beat of silence passed.

"I can't wait to marry you, Prince Loki Laufeyson of Asgard."

Loki lifted a hand to softly cup your cheek. "And I can't wait to marry you, Y/N Y/L/N, queen of my heart." He gazed into your eyes; smiling, before he abruptly stepped out of your embrace. "But before I make you my wife, I'm going to help you bake those delicious cupcakes."

Baby Fever Crew: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @jennyggggrrr @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @huntedmusicgardenn @brokenpoetliz @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @icytrickster17 @jaguarthecat @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @smolvenger @lou12346789 @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @aagn360 @cakesandtom @lokisgoodgirl @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake (Continuing in the comments!)

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 9 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, mutual pining, angst, SLOOOWW BUURNNN

words: 9.9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 9 ► the silence is one thing that i’ll remember you said. well, it’s better than nothing when nothing’s all that you left

The next morning was warm.

It was such a stark contrast to last night that you couldn’t help but still feel phantom shivers on your skin when you got off the bus to stretch your legs. It was still two more hours to Oslo, and it was unreasonably early to be awake, considering you did not return to the bus until sunrise—a mere half an hour before the scheduled departure for Norway.

Everyone else was still asleep, which made sense: they must have returned to the bus sometime very late, too. Granted, when you and Jungkook reached the restaurant on Strandvägen yesterday, your team was no longer there—but that didn’t mean they went to sleep as soon as they returned.

To be fair, you hadn’t expected to find them at the restaurant anyway. But after the abrupt end of your conversation with Jungkook on the bridge, you had hoped for a distraction. Something to take your mind off the uncomfortable gaping hole inside you.

Jungkook had suggested last night that you take a taxi back to the tour bus, and you were almost ready to walk back on your own.

It confused you—this unexpected longing for something you dared not name—but it also frightened you. Therefore, you were glad that when the bus reached Oslo, Jungkook was still asleep.

You felt like you needed a minute—to convince yourself that whatever you thought you’d felt in the air last night was more wishful thinking than anything else. Because here’s the thing about wishful thinking: it was yours. And everything that was yours, you could extinguish. You could put it out like you’d done countless times before.

So, several hours later in Oslo, you gave Yoongi very strict instructions to keep the band close and make sure they rested before tomorrow’s performance. And then you took your girls to explore the city, sightsee and drink as much coffee as you could find.

Unfortunately for Jungkook, sightseeing was something he also wanted to do with you once you arrived in Oslo. He had a lot to tell you; he knew he owed you an explanation. He just wasn’t sure how to explain what had happened, let alone what hadn’t happened.

But when he woke up on the bus, you had already left, taking Maggie and Luna with you. So, not only did he have to wallow in his thoughts, but he also had to deal with a sulking Taehyung, who never openly admitted why he was sulking, but it was obvious enough. Even though he texted Luna all day, she wasn’t physically there with him, and that wasn’t enough.

Jungkook was annoyed. He should have seen this coming—he tended to sleep in while you tended to not��but he realised he had expected you to stay. He’d expected a reaction. Perhaps he’d hoped you would demand that he explained himself and why the two of you had gone from I-miss-you to let’s-walk-and-not-look-at-each-other.

Your reaction, however, was no reaction at all.

You and the girls went out, which for the three of you, meant getting ice cream and walking the city streets until you found something interesting. Sometimes this took up the whole day. You loved it—especially today.

But then, just as you were approaching what looked like a castle with crowds of tourists flocking to it—Luna discovered it was the Royal Palace, which should have been obvious, but you and Maggie still ooh-ed and ahh-ed at Luna’s Google Maps skills—your phone started to ring.

Licking your ice cream hurriedly so it wouldn’t melt completely while you talked, you walked away from the girls to take the call.

You were half-expecting an emergency, but before you could really be disappointed that you had to end your excursion, you noticed the unknown number on the screen of your phone. You briefly considered not answering, but you saw that the number had an area code from home.

You thought it might be your brother calling. Once again, you considered not answering, still angry at him for his recklessness and your mum’s tears. But responsibility won over, and you picked up.

On the other end of the line was a man asking for you. For a moment, you were confused, because the voice sounded familiar, but the owner of it didn’t seem to know who he was talking to.

“This is she,” you responded to your own name. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Oh, you sound so different for some reaso—it’s Nick,” the man said, and you stopped chewing on the waffle cone of your ice cream in surprise.

Nick Zhou had been your supervisor after you graduated and started to work at the company where you now managed Rated Riot. Back then, you were just an intern before being promoted to assistant manager for an indie rock band with the ominous name The Jungle Will Get You, when you were only 23 years old. Nick was their manager then, and he never admitted it, but you knew he’d pulled some strings to get you that job.

A little over a year later, you took over the management of Rated Riot, and you haven’t spoken to Nick since. He went on to manage Reconnaissance, one of the biggest alternative rock bands in the country, if not the world. Just being their manager made Nick more popular than Rated Riot at the moment.

You thought things had worked out well for you both, so there was simply no reason for you to stay in touch.

You figured the reason he was calling you now had to mean good things for Rated Riot. Supporting Reconnaissance on tour? Perhaps a collaboration?

“Nick!” was the first word out of your mouth after the surprise had subsided. “So nice to hear from you again.”

“I heard you were in Europe? That’s huge!” he said, which was kind of him, because Reconnaissance were selling out stadiums.

“We are, yeah. Oslo right now,” you said, smiling at Maggie, who approached you and tugged on your arm like a toddler wanting to go on a ride at an amusement park. Except in this case, the ‘ride’ was a wine bar down the street from the palace. You nodded, and that was permission enough for her to jog over to Luna and drag the two of you towards the bar, never mind that it was 3 PM. You said into the phone, “how are you? You’re going to Australia soon, right?”

“Next week, yeah,” Nick said. “The new album’s coming shortly after that.”

“Ah, another tour,” you said with a teasing chuckle—you knew how much Nick hated flying. Even the Reconnaissance members talked about their ‘air-sick manager’ in almost every interview they did. “Good luck in advance!”

Nick chortled in irony. “Thanks, I’m going to need it. That’s actually, uh, the reason I’m calling.”

Your heart rate picked up as the ice cream melted in your hand. “Yeah?”

“Yes. See, we had some—er, situations,” he paused here as if searching for a better word. After he didn’t find one, he continued with the one he had picked, “and because of these situations, I’m putting together a new team. With the new album coming out soon, we’re on a really tight schedule.”

“Right,” you said. You could already hear him asking if Rated Riot would like to be the supporting act, and maybe even participate in Reconnaissance’s new album.

“Well, that’s why I’m calling you,” he said. “The management here is just me and this guy, Mark, who can’t dial a phone number to save his life, but he’s a great sport. Keeps the band alive. But I need more people. Preferably someone with, uh, experience.”

He paused meaningfully, but it still took you a minute to realise that he hadn’t contacted you about Rated Riot. He had contacted you about you.

You watched Maggie and Luna enter the wine bar, take your ice cream from you, and make a beeline for the cash register, all while you stood in the doorway.

“I’m—uh—Nick.” There was an uncomfortable lump of surprise in your throat. Your hands felt sticky and your mouth felt dry.  “I’m—I manage Rated Riot.”

“I know,” he said, “and they’re a very promising band, tons of potential,” he paused here, hesitating, “but I thought—well, this is sort of different, isn’t it?”

You would have scoffed if you weren’t so stunned. “Well, of course.”

“Yeah. So, I just—we need an assistant manager. Fast,” Nick said. “And you were the first person I thought of. I mean, we’ve worked together before. I know your strengths and I admire your work ethic. I think you’d be a great addition to our team.”

Overwhelmed, you barely managed to find your words. “I… appreciate the offer. But I don’t think I can just—”

“Think about it, okay?” he interrupted you, aware of the abruptness and sheer mass of this offer. “We’ll be back from Australia next month, so you don’t need to give me an answer right away. Just—the sooner the better, of course. But you can think about it. I just wanted to let you know that I have an opening, and I’d love it if you joined us.”

“I—okay.” The faint smell of grapes and old wood around the wine bar seemed to grow stronger the longer that you stood here, still frozen. “Thank you, Nick.”

“I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” he said. “Take care, yeah?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, you too. Thanks again.”

The three beeps after he ended the call reverberated in your head, and it was another half-minute before you moved the phone from your ear. You looked at it in disbelief, as if it had been someone else who’d just had this conversation, and you had merely overheard it.

In an attempt to ground yourself, you tried to simplify your loud thoughts into whispers of an adequate noise.

There was an opening to be Reconnaissance’s assistant manager.

You’d have to take a step back, do more mundane tasks, similar to the ones you did back when you were Nick’s assistant that first time. But if you said yes, you’d be working with one of the biggest bands in the world right now.

But you couldn’t leave Rated Riot. You were their manager. You believed in them, and you loved everyone on this team.

“You look like you just found out Santa isn’t real,” Maggie’s voice brought you back to the present. She had come to get you, so you’d stop blocking the entrance for others. “Who was that?”

You still felt very hot and half-choked, so you tried to loosen the collar of your white tank top. The denim jacket you wore over it didn’t help much with the heat inside of you, either.

“Um,” you looked around as you slipped out of your jacket. “Can we get some wine first?”

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

You nodded, and before you could give a verbal response, Maggie was already calling out to your friend, who was about to place her order, “Luna! Grab some doubles! We have something going on.”

It took the girls about two minutes to find a table—granted, a couple of tourists who saw Maggie dragging you through the wine bar while you were trying to regain proper consciousness got scared and left, which helped a lot—and settle down.

As soon as you took the first sip, catching the rich and savoury taste—perhaps a bit too savoury; it immediately made you scrunch your nose—Luna scooted closer to you on the navy-coloured velvet couch.

“What happened?” she asked. “Who was that on the phone?”

You set your glass down. “That was Nick. My former supervisor. Before I started to work with Rated Riot. He, um—he manages Reconnaissance.”

“Oh, shit!” Maggie exclaimed at the same time as Luna muttered, “I don’t really know them.”

“Oh!” Maggie gasped, turning to Luna. “Wait. Weren’t you at their show a few days ago? I saw on your Instagram.”

“Yeah, Taehyung took me. He brought me to the after-party, too, but—” she paused as she noticed that Maggie’s eyes looked ready to pop out. She explained, “oh, that was just to babysit Jungkook. He’s the one who really listens to Reconnaissance. I don’t know any of their songs. They sounded good, but I’m—”

“Oh my God!” Maggie gasped again. She had glitter in her eyes and all over her face. “Wait until we get back on the bus! I probably have five different notebooks full of their song lyrics. You’ll love them.”

Luna nodded her head once, then paused in the middle of the second nod. “Wait, you brought those notebooks on tour? Aren’t they heavy?”

“Kind of. But I like to have them with me. And I keep adding to them, so—” Maggie stopped when you picked up your glass again. Your movement seemed to remind her what the topic was before she digressed. She leaned back in her bright yellow armchair. “—which is not the point. So, what did that guy want? Nick.”

Both girls turned their attention back to you.

You took another sip of your wine and said, “well, I thought he wanted Rated Riot.”

Swirling her glass, Luna asked, “he didn’t?”

“He didn’t,” you confirmed. “Apparently, he wants me.”

Luna was the first to understand the implication as her eyebrows lifted and her chin dropped. Maggie, on the other hand, looked at Luna, and then back at you.

“Like… to work with him?” she asked. “To manage Reconnaissance?”

“Well, obviously not to perform with them on stage,” Luna said to her impatiently, then turned back to you. “Why does he want you?”

“He said he needed to find an assistant manager quickly,” you explained, “and since he knows me, he thought I’d be... suitable. For that job.”

You didn’t know what words to choose so you wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable talking about this. And, as you sat here with your friends and your glass of wine, you realised that a part of you didn’t believe you were even ready to work with someone like Reconnaissance. For the most part, you were terrified of it.

You hoped Rated Riot would reach their level one day, that’s true. But starting to work with a band that was already so outrageously popular felt a bit like being thrown into a pot of boiling water.

“Well, what did you say?” Maggie asked.

“I said no,” you replied, your vision blurring again. “I think.”

The two girls spoke up at the same time.

Luna repeated, “you think?” while Maggie asked, “why not?”

They exchanged a look – Maggie, surprised; Luna, slightly accusing.

“What?” Maggie said in response to her look. “This is big!” She put down her glass and leaned over to touch your knee, wanting to emphasise her point, “I love you, okay? And I love working with you and everyone else here, and I know you do, too. But this is just… huge.”

“I know,” you said, your gaze still wandering along the tiled wall behind Maggie’s armchair. You felt disoriented and the wine had very little to do with it. “But I—I mean, I can’t just leave.”

“I think you should talk to the guys,” Luna suggested. She managed to come to terms with the heaviness of the offer that Nick had made much faster than you did. It helped, of course, that she wasn’t the one who had to make a decision here, but she was making a reasonable point regardless.

“Yeah,” Maggie agreed, pointing at the girl on the couch next to you, and nodding eagerly at you. “Yeah. You should.”

You looked at both of them, then down at your glass, as if you could take a sip and it’d give you very clear directions of what to do next.

“But what can I say to them?” you asked. Then, in a voice meaning to imitate yourself, you said, “‘I might have an opportunity to leave you and work with a much bigger band.’ No. No, I don’t think so.”

Maggie squinted at you, unsure if she was the only one confused again. She asked carefully, “you… don’t think you’ll tell them this? Or you don’t think you’ll work with Reconnaissance?”

You finished your wine and set the glass back on the tray. The other girls’ glasses were still half-full.

“Neither, probably,” you replied. “I’d be—you know. If I went to work with Nick, I’d be fetching coffee for the other staff members and filling out paperwork. I already do that for Rated Riot anyway, but I don’t mind, because I don’t think we’re at a level where I’d need an assistant. But I—I want to reach that level with them. I want to be here every step of the way.”

If you’d lifted your eyes from the table in front of you, you would have seen the soft smile on Luna’s face. Instead, you heard it in her voice when she said, “that makes sense.”

Finally, you looked at her. “It does?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, I think you should sleep on it,” Maggie said, a different voice of reason. “Make sure this isn’t something you’ll regret later. Oh!” she clapped her hands. “You can even make a pros and cons list!”

You smiled while Luna snickered. She said to you, “pro: obviously, you wouldn’t be managing your ex-boyfriend—”

“Um?” Maggie cut in. “Con: you wouldn’t be managing your ex-boyfriend.”

Luna frowned at her. “How is that a con?”

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Have you seen her ex-boyfriend?”

Luna’s frown dissipated as she laughed, and even you chuckled, too.

In her whole life, Maggie might have had one and a half doubts about not actually being gay; she was simply an artist to the core. And she was very vocal about how unbelievably easy it was to photograph Jungkook when he was on stage. He was, in a truly annoying way, effortlessly photogenic.

“I guess that’s a pro and a con,” you said. There was a lingering smile on your face—this time, the wine did have something to do with it.

When paired with the sudden anxiety of Nick’s offer, the wine helped you distance yourself from the last conversation you’d had with Jungkook. And maybe it was better, you decided, that your friends didn’t know about the walk you two had taken. You preferred the conversation as it was now — cosy, safe, and almost buoyant.

“Is there a time limit?” Luna asked suddenly. “Did Nick tell you a date?”

“No,” you said with a sigh. “He said he wanted an answer soon. So I don’t have to decide right this second. But I’m not really considering it, to be honest. It’s a great opportunity, sure, but I think working with Rated Riot is a great opportunity, too.”

Both girls nodded in unison, their expressions brightening. Slowly, as you felt the support in their warm gazes, the atmosphere in the wine bar began to lighten, too. They understood. And they agreed with your point.

Luna teased, “does the band pay you extra when you say nice things about them? Because I really love Rated Riot.”

You chuckled. “I wish they did.”

Maggie lifted her glass. “Be careful. If you start complimenting them to their faces, it’ll go straight to their heads. And then we’ll have to give their shows an R rating.”

“Well, that would help them live up to their name,” Luna pointed out and the three of you burst into a fit of giggles again—partially because of the wine, but in your case also because of relief.

Nick’s offer and the confusing feelings from last night did not seem all that troublesome at the moment. You could almost forget about them, focusing only on the way things were right now.

You were happy like this. You didn’t want anything to change.

As dusk fell, Jungkook began to hover his finger over your name in his contact list. Just then, Sid burst into the otherwise empty bus and slammed the door with so much force that the whole vehicle swayed a little.

Startled, Jungkook looked up.

“Dude!” he called out, poking his head out of his bunk to see his friend’s proud face. “Gentle.”

“I have the best plans for us tonight,” Sid said as if he hadn’t heard him. “You will not believe the kind of bars they have here in Norway.”

Although Jungkook doubted that the bars here were any different from the ones back home, he still climbed out of the bunk, more intrigued by the idea of having company than by the supposed uniqueness of Norwegian bars. “Yeah?”

Sid’s smile grew wider still when he saw the same reaction mirrored on Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Let’s go.”

Jungkook hesitated. He had told you last night that things wouldn’t be the same between him and Sid when they returned home. And he meant it; he would have preferred to spend time with you—right now and back home. But you weren’t here, and while he was waiting for you, everyone else made different plans. Even Taehyung. And Jungkook hated being alone.

Grabbing his jacket, he climbed out of the bunk and allowed Sid to lead him outside, where the rest of their friends were already waiting.

They were like a herd of sheep, Jungkook thought unexpectedly while Sid ushered him out of the bus, the way they followed Sid. Why didn’t they ever protest or suggest their own ideas?

But as he looked at his friends – Jude and Minjun fighting over something on Jude’s phone, shoving the device in each other’s faces and shouting; Sid smacking them both on the backs of their heads, providing his own wisdom to their argument – he knew.

They stayed quiet, because the four of them were always together in the same way: with Sid in the lead, and the others following behind him. That’s the way it has always been. Jungkook knew that if one of them had a genuine problem with this, he would not be taken seriously. Or it would be the last time he could call them friends.

It was either this, or nothing at all.

That night, the four of them ended up in a cocktail bar in Oslo, a significant distance away from the tour bus and the rest of the crew. Jungkook didn’t understand why Sid had chosen this particular place until his friend winked and gestured towards the stairs leading to the basement.

“What’s down there?” Jungkook was dumb enough to ask.

Grateful for the chance to show off, Sid grinned and draped an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders as he led him—along with Jude and Minjun, who were looking around like this was a zoo���to the basement.

“Only the greatest thing to come out of Europe,” Sid explained. “You can thank me later.”

He didn’t.

It was an underground burlesque club with only three dancers, all of whom appeared so intimidating that Jungkook was convinced they could stab the four of them with their nails alone, if any of the boys looked them in the eye for too long. He didn’t dare to try.

Sid loved it.

Jungkook preferred the bar upstairs.

Minjun seemed to agree, so the two went back up for another round, while Jude stayed back. Despite occasionally acting like he hated Sid’s guts, Jude always stayed close to him, almost like an addict, who knew that this drug was bad for him, but still couldn’t break the habit.

“Do you think they’ll make it out alive?” Minjun asked as they waited for their drinks at the bar.

“I don’t think they’re getting out at all,” Jungkook replied. “It’s like siren screams for Sid.”

“That’s true. And if Sid stays, Jude stays.”

Jungkook nodded, his expression grim.

“So, D-11,” Minjun said. It took Jungkook a second to realise that he was counting down the days to the end of the bet. “How’s it going?”

He gave his friend a look. “I’m in a bar with you. How do you think it’s going?”

Minjun smiled and nodded to the bartender to thank him for bringing the drinks. Then he held his glass out to Jungkook.

“A toast,” he declared. Jungkook rolled his eyes and picked up his own glass. “May you win this bet, because Sid on a motorcycle is a menace I want nothing to do with.”

Snorting, Jungkook clinked his glass against his and they both downed their drinks in several big gulps.

“He’s not getting the bike,” Jungkook said, setting his glass down with new-found determination. Hearing Minjun mention the possibility of Sid winning the Katana made it feel more realistic. He had to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Do you need my help?” Minjun asked as if reading his mind.

Jungkook looked up from the bar top. “You couldn’t help even if I asked. We signed an agreement that we wouldn’t tell her.”

“You and Sid signed it,” Minjun pointed out. “I was just the person who typed it all out in my fucking Notes. I’m not legally bound to abide by the conditions of the deal. And, actually, neither are you. It’s just a—”

“Why would you help me?” Jungkook interrupted. His friend’s final sentences had evidently flown over his head. “I’ve hardly got anything to offer you in return.”

Minjun shrugged. “I just don’t want Sid to win.”

Jungkook swallowed. He found himself hoping, suddenly, that there was more to this. That if he really kicked Sid off the tour and out of his life, there would at least be one person who wouldn’t leave with him. One person who would stay.

“I don’t know what you could do,” Jungkook said. “Putting in a good word for me probably wouldn’t do much.”

“No?” his friend said, then looked down at his glass thoughtfully. “Okay. We can go full mentalist on her.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Dropping certain objects in her living space that leave imprints of you in her subconscious,” Minjun said completely seriously. “It’s simple.”

“Dude.” Jungkook blinked. “I don’t know where this—this Sherlockian shit is coming from, but I’m not going to mess with her head.”

Minjun was about to scoff, but held back because the offence on Jungkook’s face at the—apparently, preposterous—suggestion seemed genuine. As if Minjun didn’t know what he was saying. As if this was serious, and Jungkook didn’t want to ruin it by playing games.

Minjun pointed out, “but you already are messing with her head.”

If possible, Jungkook looked even more appalled. “I’m—that’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what’s the difference between what you’re doing and what I’m suggesting?”

“Well, I’m not trying to—I’m not sneaking around and forcing her to think about me,” Jungkook said, looking away from his friend and meeting the bartender’s gaze. He nodded, and the man behind the bar approached the two friends with a bottle of whiskey.

“It’s not force, technically,” Minjun explained as they watched the bartender refill their drinks. “It’s just how your brain works. You see something that reminds you of someone, and it sticks with you whether you’re aware of it or not.”

“I’d like for that to happen naturally,” Jungkook said, aware that he was the naïve one here. But he liked to think of it as hope. And he had that right—he was the only one who really knew you. The only one who could guess whether you were thinking about him or not.

Minjun shrugged and picked up his glass as soon as it was filled. “It’s your call. I’m just trying to speed up the process.”

Jungkook brought his own drink to his lips, but paused when Minjun spoke up again.

“Let me ask you something, though,” he said. “Before you get too far ahead of yourself.”

Even before he heard the question, Jungkook already felt queasy. “What is it?”

“Do you genuinely want to get back together with her?” Minjun asked.

There seemed to be no ill intentions behind the question, but Jungkook spent a full minute watching him and reading his expression.

Minjun was quick to notice his uncertainty. He reassured, “I’m asking because I care. Not because I want to make fun of you. I know you love her, but this—well, I’m just wondering if you want to act on these feelings.”

Jungkook looked down again. “Yeah, uh, I do. It’s not just about the bet for me.”

Minjun had suspected as much, so he wanted to broach the subject when no one else was around.

“But you still think making a bet out of it is the way to go?” he inquired.

Jungkook knew where this was going. And he still tried to appear nonchalant.

“I mean, I’m in this mess anyway, so why not actually win this?” he replied with a laid-back shrug that was so laid-back, it only amplified the fact that it was not laid-back at all.

“Jungkook,” Minjun said, startling him. Normally, the four of them addressed each other as ‘dude’ or the occasional ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’. Hearing his name felt strange, almost foreboding.

“There’s so many reasons why not,” Minjun continued. “The most important one being that you come out of this as a winner twice. You get her and you get the bike. But all she gets is the realisation that someone she’s letting back into her life has lied to her.”

Defensively, Jungkook demanded, “when did I lie?”

“You’re getting back together with her because of the bet!”

“It’s not because of—it’s not just because of the bet. I just told you.”

“But she doesn’t know about it,” Minjun countered, poking holes in Jungkook’s feeble defensive shield. It was more like a flimsy piece of paper than a shield, really; just something he’d hoped to fool himself—and you—into believing. “She doesn’t know what else is at stake. It’s not fair.”

“Okay,” Jungkook turned in his seat to face Minjun, leaning his elbow against the bar top. “What are you trying to tell me? That I should lose the bet on purpose? To show her that I care about her more than anything else?”

“No,” Minjun replied, less confident. Jungkook was likely not aware of this, but he could be very intimidating. For Minjun, who considered himself immune to most forms of intimidation after years of being friends with Sid, this was unusual and unsettling. “I’m not telling you anything. I’m just suggesting you think about it. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”

Jungkook swallowed, his throat dry.

He knew that he had already drawn a subconscious line between simply wanting you back and wanting you back to win the bet. He worried about the exact thing that Minjun had just mentioned—that he couldn’t have both. He worried that it wouldn’t be fair to be with you again if he won.

This was what stopped him on the bridge. It’s what haunted his mind every time he thought about talking to you.

Deep down, he knew he would have to make a choice: either he won the bet, or he got back together with you.

And yet, he couldn’t let Sid win. The thought pressed on his mind with so much weight that he knew it wasn’t just you that he didn’t want to lose, and it definitely wasn’t just his bike. It was a matter of pride, too.

He was proving a point for all the years that Sid had asserted his superiority over him.

“You know, that never made any sense to me,” Jungkook said. Alcohol helped him feel more confident and less self-conscious. Maybe he should stay tipsy until the end of the bet. “That’s the whole point of the cake. You get it, and it’s not just there to fucking look at. It’s there to be eaten.”

Minjun could tell Jungkook felt defensive, so he didn’t take the aggression personally. Instead, he took a sip of his drink.

“Whatever, man,” he said. “It’s your life, in the end.”

“Yeah. It is,” Jungkook replied so firmly that it just sounded childish. He tried to soften his tone, “I appreciate yo—your concern, but I got this.”

“Okay,” his friend agreed because that was easier. They could have been at it for hours—and God knows, Jungkook and Sid had been at it for hours—but Minjun didn’t think it was worth it. He concluded, “that’s fine.”

“It is,” Jungkook agreed.

But it was clear that it wasn’t fine. Jungkook looked flushed as if he’d bathed in a barrel of whiskey, not merely drank two glasses of it.

After about half an hour, the silence became heavy. At first, Minjun had thought that he would rather throw himself down the stairs than return to the basement where Sid and Jude were. But now that seemed like a better alternative than sitting here with a sulking Jungkook.

“You know, uh, I think I’m going to go check on Sid and Jude,” he said while Jungkook ordered another—his fifth—glass. “Don’t want them to die in Oslo. Too big of a hassle to bring their bodies back home.”

Jungkook’s lip did not even twitch. But he nodded and Minjun slid off his chair. He glanced back at his friend as he went, not wanting to leave him alone, but also feeling like Jungkook was already alone anyway, even with him here.

Jungkook had always been good at isolating himself, even when surrounded by other people. Honestly, Minjun wasn’t sure if Jungkook even realised that he wasn’t sitting at the bar alone. He told Minjun once that he couldn’t stand silence, but Minjun knew that sometimes, Jungkook’s thoughts overwhelmed him without his consent. And once he got lost in his own mind, the rest of the world ceased to exist for him.

However, now that he was truly alone, Jungkook was struck by the heavy weight of his solitude. He would have agreed with Minjun – he really did have a monumental talent for disassociating anywhere, anytime. But to be able to drift off into his thoughts and turn the crowd into a blur, he needed a crowd in the first place.

Now that he was alone, all he could think about was that he was alone.

He certainly wasn’t going to follow his friends into the basement, so he got a few more drinks into his system for courage, and pulled his phone out—a painful reflex—to dial your number.

Needless to say, by the time you answered—it was 1 AM, but, of course, you answered—he was already slurring his words as he tried to explain why he’d called.

“Are you drunk?” was your first question as soon as you heard him try to introduce himself—pointlessly so, because at that point in your life, he was the only person who called you after midnight.

“Of course,” he said, with hints of offence in his voice. Why would he not be drunk? he rationalised.  “Do you want to come?”

He heard shuffling on the other end as he played with the napkin on the bar top. Funnily enough, despite his mind feeling pleasantly numb, he still felt twinges of anxiety in his stomach.

“Where even are you?” you finally asked. He was too drunk to notice the coldness in your voice.

“Sid took us to some bar,” he replied. “In Oslo.”

While you were relieved that Sid hadn’t driven them out of Norway before Jungkook even performed here, you also felt concerned that Jungkook was so disoriented that he needed to remind you of the city you were in.

“Are the rest of the guys there?” you asked. His friends were useless, of course, but perhaps Minjun could be trusted to take care of Jungkook if he blacked out.

“They’re downstairs,” he answered. “There’s some club. I didn’t want to go, so I called you. Do you want to come?”

You were confused by the repeated question—was this a matter of you wanting to come, or were you obligated to come as his manager?

He sensed your apprehension through the phone despite being intoxicated.

“I’m trying to see you,” he explained, his tongue struggling to bend the right way. All his Rs sounded like sloppy Ls and Ws. “You weren’t there when I looked for you earlier today.” You heard a bang – he’d slammed his palm against the bar top, forcing the nearby glasses to rattle – and he continued, whining now, “why are you so difficult for me to find?!”

“You’re drunk,” you stated in response. “And you’re not making any sense. Can you find your way to the bus, or do I have to pick you up?”

Half-mumbling, half-whining something incoherent, Jungkook leaned his arms on the bar top. He rested his head on them and pressed his phone against his ear harder as if that’d make you understand him better, make you enter his head somehow.

“You should come,” he said. “I’ll order for you.”

“How about you tell me exactly where you are first,” you replied.

He did – to the best of his ability in his current state – but Google Maps could hardly help you find the directions for “then we took two left turns and came up in front of his huge red brick building, might have been brown, I’m really drunk.” Finally, you managed to get him to just send you his pinned location and headed over there.

He stayed on his phone after you hung up, opening the Notes app and scrolling through his older notes to pass the time.

Some of them were lists of things he wanted to remember – films to see, songs to listen to – while others were harder to decipher: drunken reminders he had made for himself and forgotten as soon as he sobered up.

Some of the notes were song lyrics, and some were just your name—he’d begun to type out a message? a letter? and abandoned it, scared of the weight your name alone carried—and his finger lingered on those for a minute before he pressed the New Note button and began typing immediately.

Normally, he didn’t write lyrics when he was drunk. Tipsy, maybe—one of Rated Riot’s most popular singles was born after he and Yoongi tried absinthe for the first time at one of the label’s parties last year—but never so drunk that the room felt wobbly.

He kept pressing the wrong buttons on the keyboard and autocorrect kept making it worse; shocking even his drunk mind with how completely wrong the corrections were.

But he managed to get two full lines – I fucking miss you when I drink / You burn my throat when I sing – and he stared at them for a minute, a deep frown on his face.

He hated it. Deleting the words with angry force on the backspace button, he began typing again, feeling furiously alone with every passing minute that you didn’t come—and knowing that when you did come, you would be you. And he couldn’t love you the way he did.

For years, even when he thought—hoped—that the feelings he had for you were not real, even as he insisted to his friends that he couldn’t possibly still love you, even as he tried to meet someone new despite only seeing faint echoes of your absence on every face, even then he wrote about you each time that his mind wandered.

You continued to be the subject of his music, the lyrical lover in every song he wrote.

Now, as he entered line after line, the lyrics writing themselves as he watched the screen, he could feel his heart thumping in his chest—as drunk as his mind was.

When the absence of you is all that inspires / I allow for the pain to turn into fires / It will burn when I write, when I think, when I sing / Flames will turn to ashes, turn to words, turn to ink

He held his phone with one hand as he folded and unfolded a napkin with the other one, reading the words and then re-reading them again.

He wasn’t sure if he liked it. He needed Namjoon to take a look at this—the producer knew better—before he could show it to anyone else. Especially before he sent it to—

Jungkook jumped up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and his vision seemed to brighten when he recognised you.

“I came as quickly as I could,” you said, out of breath as if you had run all the way here. You took a seat on the stool next to him at the bar, using his shoulder to steady yourself as you climbed onto it. “Where’s your tail?”

Even drunk, he understood you meant his friends.

“Downstairs,” he said, nodding his head towards the door leading to the staircase in the back. “Drinks?”

You assessed him. He didn’t appear to be in need of having his stomach pumped, but he was slouched over the bar, tightly clutching his phone in his hand, which was a good indicator that the night should have ended there.

“I think it’d be better to—”

“Strawberry daiquiri,” he said loudly—to the bartender, but it took you a second to realise that—then he turned to you for confirmation. “Right?”

“I’m not drinking,” you replied firmly enough for him to give you a long look.

“Why not?” he asked. The bartender politely waited for your consent before he started to make the cocktail. “You’re not driving.”

You swallowed. There were many – countless, really – reasons why not. You were confused about yesterday, confused about Nick’s offer, confused about what you were doing here tonight.

This was dangerous. Reckless, even, and very out of character for someone like you. You knew you shouldn’t dive head first into this, not after what happened—what didn’t happen—yesterday.

But you gave the bartender a light nod.

“One drink,” you said. “And we’re going back.”

But, of course, going back is not at all what you did.

Jungkook, his highball, your daiquiri, and you all found yourselves on the empty terrace on the roof not ten minutes later.

It was a relatively warm night, but it was the empty space, the dark night and the faint scent of rain that captivated you more than the warmth. It was so beautiful here; very hard not to be grateful to be alive on a night like this. And you realised you didn’t blame Jungkook for making you come here, after all.

“What were you doing before I came?” you spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the night.

Jungkook took a sip from his glass and placed it on the small round table between your patio chairs.

“Writing,” he said.

You were surprised. “Writing?”

“Yeah.”

“As in, song lyrics?”

“Yeah,” he repeated. Then—his mind travelling a thousand miles per hour—he added, “you know, I wrote “Haunting” about you.”

Weirdly enough, while alcohol made most people sleepy or, at least slower, it seemed to ignite Jungkook’s mind instead. He wanted to see your reaction when he said this. Wanted, even drunk, to see if there was a reason for him to worry.

Meanwhile, you needed a moment to process what he’d just said and, even then, you weren’t entirely sure if you understood him.

“I—you did?” you stumbled, awkward.

“Yes.”

You looked away, the song fresh in your mind, because it wasn’t just the first Rated Riot song that you’d heard. It was also one of your favourites. You loved the ethereal melody—a strong focus on piano, the guitars reduced to the background and the bass only joining in on the chorus—and Jungkook’s raw vocals as he sang about resisting his dark urges.

You knew all of Rated Riot’s lyrics—hearing their songs every night paid off, but you’d have been lying if you said you didn’t like to listen to them in your free time as well—but it was the first verse and, particularly, the breathy, pained voice with which Jungkook sang it that always tugged at your heart:

It's wandering in my mind / It's haunting my daydreams / I follow after it, blind / I fall apart at the seams

After a minute, you finally spoke—awkward as you explained the meaning of his own lyrics to him, “I always thought it was about… well, searching for thrills even though that’s not good for you.”

“It is,” Jungkook said. “The beginning is. But the chorus is about you.”

Before you could ask anything else, he mouthed the lyrics under his breath so quietly that you were unsure if you weren’t only imagining him singing it since you’d listened to the song so many times before.

Can I find you when I break? / Can I find you when it’s too much? / Can you forgive all my mistakes? / Can you save me with your touch?

Jungkook had written plenty of songs on his own, but from what you’d heard in the studio, his lyrics used to be too abstract. That was the main reason why Namjoon used to scold him.

“It lacks feeling!” he’d shout, agitated by his own expectations for the vocalist. “It’s like you’re singing about a bag of bricks!”

You knew that many of Jungkook’s early songs didn’t have a specific subject in mind. In this particular case, you assumed he was singing about someone—anyone, really—extending a helping hand or providing a shoulder to lean on. It was a comforting song, nothing more than that.

Jungkook was almost grateful for the surprise on your face—he was worried you’d tell him that you knew. He’d always thought it was obvious that this song was about you. After all, you were the only one who was always there for him.

And, in any case, who else would he write about if not you? As soon as he was criticised for lacking emotion in his lyrics, he started to write from experience. And you were his experience.

But, of course, you didn’t think to look for yourself in his lyrics. You didn’t want to find yourself there.

And now you weren’t sure what the appropriate response was when someone told you they wrote a song about you. “Thank you” didn’t seem sufficient, because the song was about you, not for you. “I love it” also didn’t capture it, because you didn’t love it because it was about you. You just did.

So, you remained silent, watching the lights on the skyscraper across the street and the reflection of the dark clouds in the dark windows. The people behind them were likely asleep, resting before they started their day in a few hours.

“I think…” Jungkook began, his sentence ending sooner than he’d expected. His eyes were glossy when you looked at him. “I think I’m writing about you again.”

You swallowed and nervously bit your lower lip. The night was warm, but the wind on the roof was relentless. You couldn’t help shivering.

Your mind was running before you could stop it. You didn’t want to resume your conversation from Stockholm; it had managed to be too much by not being nearly enough. You couldn’t return there again.

But you still asked, “what were you writing?”

“About missing you.”

You sat there, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your dark jeans with the tip of your index finger. You tried to suppress the anticipation building in your stomach before it could fully manifest. Before it could turn into a terrifying disappointment. Before it could show you that you were lying to yourself when you said you’d moved on.

“Please don’t ask me why I’m doing this now,” Jungkook said in a strained whisper.

Your voice faltered as you said, “I won’t.”

“J-just so you know, I felt the same way back home,” he said. “The only difference is that here in Europe, you have no choice but to be around me.”

The implication was clear, even if his voice wasn’t accusing you of anything. He believed you were only spending time with him because your job required you to.

“I don’t… avoid you back home,” you defended weakly—the only way you knew how right now.

Last night, you’d told him you missed him and it didn’t end well. Actually, it didn’t end at all—it sort of hung over you and made this conversation uncomfortable. Like a scratchy sweater, rubbing on your skin in all the wrong ways.

“I know,” he said. “But you never put in special effort to see me, either.”

You took a sip of your cocktail, tossing your head back to finish it.

Placing the glass back down on the table between your seats, you finally said, “I didn’t know you wanted me to, until you brought it up the other day.”

“Yeah. I know that, too,” Jungkook said sadly. His moves mirrored yours as he picked his glass up, but stopped before bringing it to his lips. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. About Stockholm.”

The pounding of your heart was very loud, and your voice was very quiet.

“What are you sorry for?” you asked.

He looked down. “There were a lot of things I wanted to say to you, but I… didn’t know how. It got kind of, um, weird.”

He scoffed at his own choice of words, and you realised that you weren’t alone on this rooftop. There was Discomfort, Awkwardness, and Avoidance dancing around you two.

“It…” you began, but words didn’t come easy. “It shouldn’t have been weird.”

He shook his head. He was worried that this would happen. Worried that you’d take responsibility for last night. You’d say you were the manager, so you should have known better. Should have set stricter boundaries. Should have never crossed them.

Now, you added tentatively, “I-I mean, we’re friends, right?”

You could have smashed your glass on his head and that would have hurt less than the cursed word.

This wasn’t about friendship and you both knew it.

But you needed to feel better. Last night had scared you, he could tell as much. And now you needed to make sense of it. You needed to find a way to interpret it in a way that felt right to your standards.

Normally, he would have helped you. Anything to make you feel comfortable, that’s all he wanted anyway.

But, tonight, he was drunk. And so in love with you that it hurt.

“I don’t know what we are,” he said.

Your hands were restless as you tapped your fingers on your legs.

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” you said. “For us to be friends.”

“It is what I want, but it’s also—it’s much more than just—I’m sorry.” He slid his palms over his cheeks and pressed his hands together against his lips. “I don’t know how to—I could never put my thoughts into words in a way that wouldn’t be too much. Or too little.”

He thought that if his friends would have been here, they would have laughed. Four years he’s wanted you, waited for you, but pretended he didn’t.

Clearly, he needed lessons on how to openly discuss his feelings.

He inhaled—or tried to, anyway—and picked up his drink. You took this as an opportunity to look at him.

“You’re, um—you’re good at putting them into song lyrics, though,” you said.

He chuckled weakly and placed his empty glass down next to yours. There was Sadness, too, twirling on the rooftop. And faint traces of Regret.

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I’ll write another song about how much I want you.”

You inhaled too sharply to appear nonchalant. The consecutive “another song” and “I want you” pulsated painfully in your chest.

Alarmed by the sound of your breathing, Jungkook turned to look at you.

“I—sorry,” he said, reading your expression. “I can’t say that, right?”

The fingers of your right hand nervously grasped at the fingers of your left. You regretted not wearing longer clothing that you could pull on.

“No, you, um—well, you can say whatever you feel,” you said. “I just, uh… you know that I can’t say it back.”

He observed your fidgeting and initially interpreted it as discomfort. But now he believed it to be something else—a more prominent emotion, brought on by something other than just this conversation.

Uncertainty.

You said you couldn’t say it back. You meant that you weren’t allowed to, as his manager.

But you didn’t say that you didn’t want to say it back.

His voice trembled when he spoke, the words pouring out in one breath, “but what if we weren’t working together? What if we were somewhere in Oslo, on the roof of some bar, just the two of us? And this fucking never-ending Scandinavian wind, of course,” he paused when he saw a small smile make its way to your lips. “But the wind isn’t telling anyone anything, either. Wh-what would you say then?”

You looked up as if you could actually see the wind. You didn’t know what scared you more: thinking what it’d be like if you weren’t working together—because a few hours ago, that possibility seemed almost real—or admitting your thoughts out loud.

It returned, the heaviness of anticipation that you’d felt last night. You were very naïve to think you could stop it from coming back. To think you could quench the wishful thinking.

This anticipation seemed to control you more than you could control it.

“I’d say that this wind feels like we’re back on campus, loudly talking about our mid-terms and chasing after loose papers that wind had blown out of our hands,” you said. There was a reluctant, nostalgic smile on your face. “Then returning to my dorm room and listening to my neighbours argue about their dead plant, even though they’re both guilty of not looking after it. T-this feels like back then.”

“And how do you feel?” he asked near desperately.

You exhaled, but did not reply. Your skin tingled with pins and needles.

“It’s me,” he said, his tone gentler now. “There’s no one else here.”

And there it was – the moment that didn’t come in Stockholm.

Dizzy, you said, “I feel the same way as I did back then.”

Jungkook held his breath.

“I really need you to tell me,” he pleaded, “what way.”

You pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and focused on suppressing the goosebumps that arose on every part of your skin that his eyes touched.

“Just… exhilarated. From life. From love,” you spoke, your eyes fluttering to him. Frightened by the intensity of his gaze as he watched you, you looked back at the edge of the roof. “From you.”

You heard his breath quiver.

“Look at me,” he asked in a stern, yet powerless whisper.

You did—and he forgot what he was going to say.

He felt like you were both back there again, too. Like nothing had changed—because nothing had, not fundamentally—like he could reach out and you’d be there. Providing him with the noise he needed to not feel alone, and the comfort he needed to not feel overwhelmed.

Neither of you realised that he had leaned in until you felt the warmth of his breath—laced with a strong scent of whiskey—on your lips. Until your lungs started to burn from holding your breath so hard. Until you parted your lips slightly and the oxygen that slipped in was so full of echoes of his taste that you felt the roof turning upside down.

He closed his eyes as he lingered millimetres away from you, the close proximity putting you both in a trance so painfully blissful that not connecting your lips seemed almost sacrilegious.

You were hypnotised, too overwhelmed by the familiarity of the feeling—the barely thereness of his lips against yours—to think of anything else.

You couldn’t pull away.

But, in a blind panic, he was the one who did.

Blinking in surprise as he moved away, you found yourself frozen, eyes locked on the empty space in front of you.

Jungkook stared at the ground, breathless and wide-eyed.

Even drunk, he couldn’t do this.

There was Minjun’s face in his head—his initial discomfort the first time he found out about the bet. There was the conversation in the bar—and the cake metaphor, even though Jungkook thought he neither had the cake, nor could he eat it. There was Sid in his head, too—his smug grin as he insisted Jungkook would lose.

He couldn’t breathe.

He could hear white noise in place of thoughts, and something else, too—his own screams.

What did I do, what did I do, what did I do, what did I—

You couldn’t hear his attempts to inhale because as soon as he pulled away, your own thoughts grew louder. The realisation of what had happened again—what had almost happened again—was so strong, it almost pushed you down to the floor. You had to grip your chair not to double over from the weight of it.

You knew he was drunk, despite seemingly sobering up a bit on the roof. And he pulled away. Meanwhile, you’d had a few drinks tonight and you were going to let him—were waiting for him to—kiss you.

Somehow, he’d managed to exhibit more rationality while intoxicated, than you could while nearly sober.

You stood up.

Pausing for a second as you debated if you should give him an excuse for why you were leaving, you mumbled something about calling him a taxi, and walked away without turning back.

The door slammed shut behind you, but Jungkook still didn’t dare to lift his gaze. He was too focused on clenching his fists so he wouldn’t throw the empty glasses down the side of the roof.

Alone on the staircase, you welcomed the emotion that had trailed after you all the way from Sweden.

You were angry.

But not at this. Not at what could’ve happened and didn’t. Not at him, not for leaning in, and not for pulling away.

You were angry at yourself. For letting yourself wish for something you shouldn’t have wished for. And for feeling disappointed when your wish didn’t come true.

Twice, you’ve found yourself on the edge of almost. Twice.

Last night, you’d told him it was easy to get overwhelmed by all the memories that your time together has brought back. But perhaps it wasn’t him who got overwhelmed. Perhaps it was you.

Perhaps seeing each other so often had blurred the lines, and you found yourself forgetting. Found yourself yearning. Hoping.

But the fact remained—and you repeated it in your head over and over again as you climbed the stairs down from the roof, clutching the railing as if your life depended on it—you broke up for a reason. You broke up for a reason. You broke up for a reason.

It was shocking how little that reason mattered when you closed your eyes in the taxi ten minutes later, and all you could picture was what it would’ve been like if you’d been the one to close the distance between your lips tonight.

And as thoughts of Reconnaissance and Nick’s offer returned to your mind on the ride back, you wondered if tonight was a pro or a con.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “careful what you wish for”

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[redrose10]

Yoongi x Female Reader. Soulmate AU

Summary: There’s no one on this planet you hate more than your coworker/secret crush Min Yoongi. He’s an arrogant, rude, womanizer who gets under your skin every single shift and you can’t wait for your day to be over so you can get away from him. Unfortunately when Jimin, your caseworker from The Ministry of Adoration, shows up offering you both a raspberry jam filled cookie, things take a surprising turn for the worst and you can no longer get away.

Warnings: Swearing, hints of smut (nothing graphic or really detailed), a little angst, Yoongi gets around, small hint to homophobia, mentions a guy not taking no for an answer, almost sexual assault. Might get updated later

Tag list: @kam9404 @yoongisducky @farfromsugafanfic @welcometomyworld13 @viankiss @ktownshizzle @bear8585

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Chapter 5- Tacos and Tangerine Juice

Word Count: 3,208

After Jimin had sent over the location you and Yoongi were sitting in his car staring up at the tall skyscraper trying to work up the courage to go in.

“Do you think we can ask for more time? Like 10 seconds?”, you questioned.

Yoongi chuckled next to you, “I really don’t think that’s how this works. And I would need more than 10 seconds to properly kiss you anyways.”

You felt your heart thump extra hard in your chest at his words. He continued, “Let’s just go in there and see what they say.” You nodded exiting the car after him.

The lobby was extravagant with marble pillars and very expensive looking artwork on the wall. An ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling and just underneath sat the receptionist. She greeted you both with a smile,”Hello, how can I help you today?”

“Um I’m not really sure. We’re supposed to meet a Jimin Park here?”, Yoongi responded.

“Oh Jimin! Of course! Take the hallway behind me all the way to the end. Then make a left and take the elevator up to the 77th floor.”, she cheerily replied.

Yoongi grabbed your hand and started pulling you down the hall. The elevator slowly started ascending towards the top with your heart beating a little harder with each floor.

The doors opened and you were immediately greeted by a smiling Jimin.

“Hello you two. Ready for this?”

Almost instinctively you ran up to him grabbing onnto his arm and pulling him closer, “Please Jimin, we only need few more seconds. We were just about to kiss right before the time ran out.”

“I know and I’m sorry Y/N. That’s not up to me. You’ll have to talk to the judge about that one.”

You tried to blink away the tears that were already forming as you followed after him with Yoongi close behind.

Jimin walked up to a woman sitting behind a desk handing her a folder of papers, “Park Jimin representing Min Yoongi and L/N Y/N.”

The woman smiled, “Of course. Head to room 707. The judge is already waiting.”

He smiled before motioning for you both to follow.

“Ahh there he is. Jimin, how are you doing? It’s been a while.”, the judge greeted.

“Oh same old same old. How’s the wife?.”

They exchanged pleasantries back and for a little and you hoped you could one day be even half as charismatic as Jimin.

“So I’m guessing this is Yoongi and Y/N you have with you for case number 143?”

He nodded.

The judge continued, “Perfect. Let’s get this started as it shouldn’t take too long.”

The judge continued to flip through the folder that Jimin gave to the secretary earlier. He mumbled a word here or there as he read through everything, but the room was silent other wise. You snuck a glance at Yoongi who had his eye focused on the judge looking completely calm minus the subtle pulling of the hem of his shirt that you knew meant he was nervous.

The judge suddenly cleared his throat, “Well I think I’ve gotten everything I needed from Jimin’s report. Y/N or Yoongi, would either of you like to make a final statement?”

Yoongi quickly shook his head leaving it up to you to step in.

“You’re hon-, Sir, I mean Judge.”

He chuckled, “Mr. Kim is fine.”

You nodded, “Mr. Kim. Yoongi and I were just about to kiss right before time ran out. We realized how much we do love each other after we cleared the air on some things. We just need like 5 more seconds and we can kiss and then everyone can go about their day and this whole mess will be over with.”

The judge quickly put his hand up to stop you and you felt like you were going to cry.

“I understand that may have been the case, but the fact is that time ran out. If I awarded more time to you two then I’d have to do that for everyone. Why did it take so long for you two to realize your love for each other?”

Yoongi shrugged next to making you want to strangle him because once again it was on you, “I-I don’t know Mr. Kim. But I do know that we do love each other and can make this work. If given another chance that is.”

The judge motioned for Jimin to come forward which he quickly did. They whispered back and forth for a little before Jimin returned giving you a sad look.

The judge signed a few papers before reading out his decision, “Okay in the decision of Case 143 featuring Min Yoongi and L/N Y/N I have decided that Yoongi will move to the broken souls department and Y/N will be released.”

“What? Why?”, Yoongi finally spoke after all this time.

“Well based on Jimin’s report and what I have seen so far Y/N appears to be the only one in this partnership willing to put forth the effort into making this work. Therefor I feel that she deserves another chance at finding a new soul mate.”

Yoongi went to protest, but you cut him off, “So what does this all mean exactly.”

The judge continued, “Well Y/N, you will have a brief meeting with Jae in our soul cleanse department. He will help cleanse your soul of any trace of Yoongi which will also reset your memeory. You will have no recollection that any of this happened. Then you will return home and go back to normal while we work behind the scenes to find you a new soulmate. The bond won’t be as strong as the one you had with Yoongi, but it is better than the alternatives.”

Your mouth dropped open as the judge turned his attention to Yoongi, “And as for Yoongi, normally you would get sent down to the broken souls department, but I don’t think you are completely a lost cause just yet. You will also go through a soul cleanse to wipe away any trace of Y/N. Then you will go through an intensive three month course to learn how to properly bond with a soulmate after which we will slowly acclimate you back into society.”

All you could think about was how your memory was going to be wiped clean and you’d never remember Yoongi or anything that the two of you shared. You studied his face hoping that somehow maybe you could remember it you ever saw him again.

“Excuse me, but no fucking way.”, Yoongi shouted next to you breaking you out of your trance.

“Yoongi shut up!”, Jimin hissed.

“No I can’t be stuck here for three months. I have to go to LA to meet with a record label in a couple days. I can’t miss that. That could ruin my whole life.”, he angrily spat.

“And loosing your true soulmate forever doesn’t ruin your life?”, the judge questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I mean yes, I guess, I don’t know! I just know that I need to be in LA. Can I come back in a few weeks and finish up this bullshit then?”

The judge shook his head, “No I’m sorry. I’m already breaking normal protocol by giving you a second chance. I can’t do any more.”

Yoongi appeared to want to argue back. You thought he’d storm off or even worse storm the judges table and punch him. But instead he looked to you and you saw the tears falling down his cheeks.

You thoughts about everything he sacrificed for his music. You thought about how hard he worked. You thought about how talented he was and how much potential he had. You took one more look at him watching as he stared at the floor trying to steady his breathing, his shirt showing the remains of his fallen tears.

“Alright well that is that. Jimin will get all of your paperwork together and go over it with both of you.”

You knew you couldn’t let Yoongi loose his opportunity. Maybe you could switch with him. Take his place. Sure you’d miss your niece being born in a month and you wouldn’t be able to check up on your father for a while. You’d also miss the start of the new semester at college. But hearing Yoongi’s sniffles next to you made up your mind before you could even think more about it.

“Wait!”, you shouted stepping forward. The judged turned to look at you and you took that as a sign to continue, “Let me take his place. Please. I’ll do anything. He needs to get to LA and I don’t want him to miss that opportunity.”

“Y/N what are you doing?”, Yoongi whispered next to you. He reached for you to get your attention, but was stopped by Jimin.

“Well you don’t need the kind of assistance that Yoongi does”, the judge said before turning his lips up into a smirk and continuing, “Buuuuuut I do like a good bargain and we do need a new secretary in the broken souls department. I‘ll make you a deal. If you stay here and take that position then I’ll release Yoongi.”

Jimin pulled closer to him, “Y/N, that’s a permanent position. You’ll be stuck here for ever. They’ll wipe your soul and your memory completely clean of everything you’ve ever known up until this point. Not just the Yoongi stuff. You’ll life will never be the same.”

You looked over at Yoongi who was staring at you with wide eyes. Leftover tears still glistening on his round cheeks.

You nodded, “That’s fine. I don’t want Yoongi to loose his big chance.”

Jimin stared on dumbfounded as you walked a little closer to the judge, “Okay I agree. I’ll take the position as long as Yoongi gets to leave today.”

The judge nodded as he handed over some papers, “Very well. Jimin take Yoongi for his soul cleanse and I’ll have Y/N brought down to her new location.”

Jimin nodded before motioning for Yoongi to follow him. He was hesitant as he looked between you and Jimin.

You hadn’t noticed that the judge had pressed a button calling for two guards to retrieve you. The men held onto your arms and started pulling you towards a set of double doors.

Just before you walked through them you looked back to see Yoongi staring at you somehow crying even harder than before as Jimin tried to console him.

The men pulled you through the door down a hallway and sat you in a brightly lit room that reminded you of your doctors office.

“Come on, the sooner we get you cleaned up the sooner you can be off to LA.”, Jimin smiled heading towards the door. Yoongi felt like he couldn’t move his feet.

“Come on mister big shot rapper.”, he tried again, but Yoongi remained still.

“She doesn’t deserve this. I was just too much of a coward again to stand up for her. I’d give up everything to just stay as her soulmate. It’s all my fault we’re here to begin with.”

Jimin put an arm around Yoongi’s shoulder before gently guiding him over to a window.

“Do you see that taco truck? I’m thinking about getting lunch from there. What do you think?”, Jimin asked pointing towards the truck. Yoongi looked at him confused and a little angry because why is he being asked about tacos right now when his life is falling apart.

“That one. Do you see it? I think it sounds good.”, Jimin said again while pointing and slyly holding up a sheet of paper in his hands. That’s how Yoongi saw the note, “Y/N moved to room 713 for debriefing and paperwork.”

He looked at Jimin with wide eyes and Jimin smiled before leaning over and whispering, “Go through those same double doors. Make a left and go all the way to the end of the hall and then make a right. It’s the third door on the left. Tell her how you really feel. You can thank me later…with tacos.”

Yoongi looked at him in shock as Jimin gave him a nonchalant shoulder shrug. With a sudden burst of energy Yoongi sprinted off following the directions as Jimin looked back giving the judge a smile who was hiding in the corner, “I knew he’d come around.”

When Yoongi finally reached room 713 he slammed the door open making you jump up out of the chair.

“Yoongi what the hell?”, you screamed.

“I’m sor-, I’m so sorr-fuck I need to work on my cardio.”, he said out of breath.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I love you so much and I can’t let you do this to yourself. I wasted so much time already because I couldn’t just tell you how I felt and I’m not going to be a coward again. You don’t deserve this.”

“Yoongi you need to get to LA. This is your big chance. This could be the best thing that ever happened to you.”, you said backing away.

But Yoongi shook his head and grabbed your arm to stop you, “I already have the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Gently he pulled you closer before kissing you so passionately you felt like the world was spinning around you. Grabbing the back of his neck you deepened the kiss and by the time the two of you separated you were both equally out of breath.

“So what happens now?”, you questioned.

“I’m not sure, but I do know that I have to go buy some tacos for Jimin.”, he chuckled.

Before you could ask for clarification a very grumpy looking elderly woman walked through the door, “Alright you two lovebirds. I’ve been told by the judge to release you both. Here are your papers. Now go on and get out of here.”

You looked at Yoongi who just shrugged before taking the papers and leading you back down the hallway his hand never leaving yours.

The rain outside was oddly refreshing, so much so that as everyone else hurried to get to their destinations the the two of you took your time walking to a taco truck down the block since Yoongi suddenly had a major craving for tacos.

You both stood near the street as you waited for your order to be ready. Yoongi behind you with his arms wrapped around you slightly swaying back and forth.

“I love you Y/N.”, he whispered in your ear.

Smiling you turned to return the gesture when a car drove by splashing gallons of water all over soaking you both from head to toe.

When you opened your eyes you weren’t standing on the curb with Yoongi’s arms around you any more. Instead you were laying on your back staring up at the ceiling of the cafe, a concerned Mina and Namjoon looking down at you. Mina holding a now empty cup that you assumed held the water which had splashed you. “See! I told you it wasn’t just a dumb thing they did in movies”., she exclaimed giving Namjoon side eye, who then put his hands up in defense.

“Uhgh what happened?”, you asked trying to sit up but feeling like the room was spinning.

“You passed out.”, Mina said from above you.

“Fuck…it was all a dream then?”, you whispered.

“Here babe drink this. It’ll help bring your sugar back up. I keep telling you not to skip meals, but you just won’t listen to me.”, a very familiar deep voice spoke. In a flash Yoongi was kneeling down next to you with a concerned look as he handed you a glass of the new tangerine juice the cafe was promoting as part of a new smoothie lineup. As you sipped on the drink you looked him over. “Your hair is mint green?”, you stated in awe. He chuckled, “Uh yeah you helped me dye it two weeks ago. Maybe we should call for help. You might’ve hit your head.”, he said reaching for his phone.

“No no I’m fine. What happened though?”, you questioned m.

“I came here to tell you the good news and then you just passed out. I think you let your blood sugar get too low again.”

You tried to get up, but Yoongi quickly told you to lay back down and rest some more which you happily obliged.

“I’m sorry, but what was your good news again?”, you asked taking another sip of juice.

Shyly he scratched at the back of his neck before flashing you his signature smile, “Well uh I just got a call from LA. I did it babe. I got the record deal.”

Like a rush of fresh air everything came back to you. From Yoongi starting work at the cafe and spilling coffee all over you causing you both to get off on the wrong foot to you having to cancel last minute on your first date and him showing up to the hospital with coffees for you and your mom while he waited with you anyways to him asking you to be his girlfriend on Christmas Eve while driving around looking at the lights and then the two of you moving in together and then Yoongi heading to LA two weeks ago to meet with a major record label.

“Oh my God! Congratulations. I’m so proud of you!”, you exclaimed wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Thank you Y/N.”, he smiled while helping you to your feet.

You felt an immediate sense of embarrassment thanks to the line of customers that were staring at you after your little incident.

“Oh boy, it’s going to be real awkward finishing up this shift.”, you chuckled.

“Uhh I think maybe you should go home. Go

Celebrate or something. We’ve got this.”, Namjoon said coming up behind you, “We’ve had enough excitement around here for one day.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice as you quickly went to hang up your apron and grabbed your bag from the back.

After clocking out you went to round the corner to go meet Yoongi who was waiting for you.

Mina greeted the next customer when you heard a very distinct familiar voice order, “Yes, I’ll have a large iced mocha please.”

Your head turned to side instantly as your mouth dropped open. Jimin, the same man from your dream and still dressed impeccably, was standing at the register ordering his usual drink.

“Come on Y/N. I really think we need to have you looked at. You’re starting to worry me.”, Yoongi said grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him after he’d been repeatedly calling your name. He looked at Jimin and gave a friendly nod, but as more of an acknowledgment and not that he actually knew him.

“Yeah, maybe we should make a stop at the hospital.”, you agreed after realizing that maybe you did hit your head really hard.

As you walked towards the door you took one final look back at Jimin. He looked back at you and winked before turning back to Mina with a smirk, “Oh and let me have one of those new cookies too. A Raspberry Romance, that sounds delightful.”

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Burning Love

Chapter 10

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"Can I?"

You nodded, and he pulled the garment down in one smooth motion, baring you to their hungry gazes. Your face warmed when he placed his hands under your knees, spreading your legs wide open. Tongue darting out to wet your lips, you averted your gaze, feeling a bit embarrassed by the situation. 

“No need for that,” Vio said, and your thoughts stuttered when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Let us make you feel good.”

Hooo boy, if you thought you weren’t going to survive this with your dignity intact earlier, you certainly were now. “Okay– ahh, shit, Red…!“

The crimson-eyed hero grinned, lapping slowly at the skin of your inner left thigh, hands holding your knees tightly to prevent any squirming, though it didn’t stop your hips from shifting over Green’s very obvious hard-on, drawing a garbled hiss from the man. You latched onto the sound in an instant, repeated the motion as Red laved countless licks and kisses to your shuddering flesh, slowly incorporating gentle bites to keep you on your toes. 

Vio watched the proceedings with an amused expression, taking one of your hands and pinning it to the bed with his own, while Blue busied himself with the breast closest to him, kneading the sensitive mound with purpose. 

It was a lot, being the center of attention like this, but you were determined to pay them back tenfold. No matter how much they tried to twist it, you had made a promise, and it was one you intended to keep. 

You were torn from your thoughts when Red shifted, cheek nuzzling your right thigh. His breath fanned over your sex, and you shivered at the sensation. He grinned, and before you knew it, his tongue was dragging up the length of your pussy, stopping only to flick your clit before diving down with gusto. You squeaked, hips jerking, but Green quickly wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you right where they wanted you. Your head fell against his shoulder when he tugged on your hair, tracing your exposed throat with his teeth and tongue. “That’s it,” he cooed, voice rumbling against your skin. “You’re always working so hard.”

“Never relaxing, too,” Blue grunted, giving your nipple a reproachful pinch. You yelped at the sensation, flushing darkly when he chuckled. “’S about time we got you to relax a little, right, medic?”

Well, you would think later when you weren’t currently being licked into oblivion, that’s a kink I didn’t know I had. In the moment, though, you could only manage a sad little whimper, followed by a gasp when Red’s lips sealed around your clit, giving a powerful suck that threatened to steal the very soul from your body. 

He gave a pleased hum. The muscles in your thighs flexed at the vibrations, your voice rising when a finger slid against your sticky folds, pushing inside to trace your gummy walls. It was too much and not enough all at once, and you weren't sure whether to lean in or pull away, so you simply did both.

Unfortunately, one of the perks of technically being the same person that that they were all on the same page, as you discovered when four sets of hands held you in place. Vio's was on your wrist, thumb tracing comforting circles over your pulse, and Green's wriggled under the tunic, rubbed over your ribs, thumbing patterns and shapes across your skin, while Red's hand splayed over your lower belly and Blue's gripped the unoccupied side of your waist.

Together and apart, they were strong, but you knew that if you truly wanted, you could push them off just as easily as Red's mouth drew sordid whimpers from your throat. You were fully capable of freeing yourself, but...

You had made a promise, and maybe, just maybe, you were as deserving of relaxation as they seemed to think you were. With that in mind, you allowed yourself to slacken in their grip, settling against Green's chest once more. It was at this moment that Red began to pump his finger in and out of your dripping cunt, quickly adding a second. The stretch burned, but it was the good kind. Your back arched when he began to scissor his fingers, curling them along your clenching walls.

Their eyes were on you, but the time for embarrassment had long since passed. Your torso began to shake when Blue dipped down, sucking a love bite right under the swell of your right breast, and you tangled your free hand in his hair, tugging gently. A garbled noise left the hero's mouth, and you latched onto the sound, pulling on the soft locks experimentally. "G-Good, honey?"

Blue groaned into your skin, and you took it as a sign, practically digging your fingers into his scalp in an attempt to give back a fraction of what they were giving you. He made another sound, and you couldn't help but shudder as the vibrations rattled through your ribcage, sloping down in heady zings to your core.

"Shit," you breathed–mostly because it was spur-of-the-moment and there weren't any words that could fully encompass the pleasure rocking through you--laying your head against Green's shoulder, shuddering when he took the opportunity to nip at your exposed shoulder, where his tunic sagged, revealing smooth skin just begging to be marked. "Please–"

"That's it," Vio purred, gripping your chin and tilting your chin in his direction. "Tell us what you want."

"I..." you paused to moan when Red's tongue slid against the lips of your cunt, stuffed full with his fingers. He caught your eye and winked, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue while maintaining unbroken eye contact. You whined at the display, hardly registering anything past the pleasure you were receiving.

Until Green's teeth pricked the side of your neck, right over your pulse point, and his voice rang promptingly through the room. "C'mon, tell us."

You swallowed, gathering your courage. "Please," their eyes were on you now, expressions dark with emotions you knew all too well. "I need..."

Blue's hand traced down to rub gentle circles at the apex of your sex, your thighs seized, and Red pumped his fingers harder, practically jamming them into you at the speed of light. "We know."

Your body began to shake, every nerve burning with sordid sensation, but something was missing. Rather, someone. Four someones. Gaze finding Red, crouched deliciously between your legs with an even more mouthwatering bulge in his pants, you panted: "Red," the hero perked up, as did the others, awaiting your next words. "I need you."

The crimson-eyed man flushed brighter than the sun, expression disbelieving. Saliva coated his mouth and chin, dripping down his neck in shiny rivulets. "Okay, um–"

"For the Goddesses sake," Blue grumbled. You yelped when a pair of hands seized your hips, dragging you into his own lap, face down, ass up. As if on cue, Vio's hands tugged the tunic down, allowing the fabric to pool just under your breasts, successfully exposing your ass and back to their hungry gazes. Green's fingers curled in your hair, lifting your face just enough to slip two digits in your mouth, which came in. handy when Blue's own fingers slipped into your perked entrance, far less gentle than Red's careful intrusion.

"Blue!" You cried, arms trembling as you struggled to hold your weight. Thankfully, Red scooted forward and lifted you by the armpits just as Green pulled his fingers from your mouth, setting your upper body in the crimson-eyed hero's lap, your face directly above... Hylia, when had he taken his pants off?

Something hot and heavy pressed against your thighs, and you realized all of them were naked, save for Green, who was still in the process of ridding himself of his pants.

Your thoughts snapped back to reality when Red's cock twitched, the tip bumping your upper lip. It was warm and wet, a beat of precum burbling at the head, and you realized that this was your chance.

"Don't choke 'em," Blue's voice emanated from somewhere behind you, fingers curling against your walls, but you steeled yourself, opening your mouth and swallowing as much of the hero's cock as you could manage. Red threw his head back, moaning louder than even you before he remembered to slap a hand over his mouth, just as Blue barked: "Hey! Did you not hear me?!"

"Fwuck wuu," you mumbled through a mouthful of dick, hands moving to grip the Red's hips, fingers splaying over his skin, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His cock throbbed harshly in your mouth, dribbles of salty precum spurting on your tongue, and you swallowed it eagerly, relishing in the garbled moan the action elicited.

"Careful," Vio's hand cupped your chin, guiding it up until Red's dick fell from your mouth, shiny with spit as you took a deep breath, not bothering to wipe the drool running down your chin. "Don't push yourself."

You snorted, shooting back with a slightly shaky "It's cute that you think this is the worst I've been" that turned a whole lot less snarky when Blue's fingers curled, grazing that spongey spot within you with terrifying accuracy. Your body jolted, and Green was right there, stroking comfortingly down the length of your back. "Easy, you're doing great."

"I'm not going to break," you rolled your eyes–they were sweet, but you had a job to do, which is why you took Red in your mouth, gently shaking Vio's hand off your chin. The crimson-eyed hero groaned when you sucked, hollowing your cheeks for the best results, all the while perking your ass in Blue's direction.

"Oh, you minx," Blue's finger left your cunt, replaced sy something far more substantial. You chuckled against Red's dick when Blue gripped your hips tightly, pleased that your attempt had worked. It was about time they got a taste of their own medicine. "Do you have any idea what we're going to do to you?"

There was a loud pop as you drew up, one hand stroking over the head of Red's dick to make up for getting interrupted once again. "Does 'fuck me' cover it or do I need to get more creative?"

Vio snorted, and it was the last thing you heard before Blue practically slammed into you, your muscles stretching deliciously to accommodate him. Your entire body jerked, but you forced yourself to focus, dripping down to allow Red's cock muffle your moans. "I'm gonna have fun with you, medic."

Damn right, you thought, because it was about time! You swallowed around Red's dick when the head nudged the back of your throat, only mildly triggering your gag reflex. A concerned, horny noise left the crimson-eyed hero's mouth, and his hands flew to your scalp, presumably to tug you off, but you gripped his hips tighter, letting out a... well, you weren't exactly proud of the noise that left your mouth, but it certainly worked.

"Fuck," Red threw his head back, fingers gripping the strands of your hair, and you sucked harder, determined to make him cum. It was at this point that Blue finally grew tired of being gentle, setting a rough pace that may or may not have had your ass rippling with every thrust. "Please–"

Well, if that wasn't sweet? You obliged, bobbing your head in time with Blue's thrusts, only pausing to breathe and run your tune on the underside of his dick, relishing in the loud whimpers the action earned you. If it wasn't for your hands on his hips, you were sure he would have harpooned your throat by now, which was as enticing as it was terrifying. You swallowed thickly around him, and Red practically sobbed, fingers digging into your scalp as if he feared you would stop at any given moment. His voice pitched with desperation. "Hylia, ahhh, I'm–"

"Gwo hwed," you muttered through a mouthful of cock, one of your hands trailing down to gently fondle his balls. Red swore impressively as he came, hands leaving your scalp to fist the sheets, hips jerking shakily as cum flooded your mouth. It was thick and somewhat creamy, with a faintly-bitter undertone. You gulped down as much as you could, choking a bit when Blue's cock grazed your sweet spot at the very same moment, causing sticky rivulets to down your chin.

"Oh, fuck, that's hot," Blue snarled, grabbing your hair to jerk your head up, hips never once faltering, while Red scooted back to collapse on the sheets, sitting up on his elbows to watch the proceedings. Your hands scrabbled at the bed below, desperate to grab hold of something, anything, and it was a miracle when Vio appeared, deftly swatting Blue's hand away and guiding your arms around his neck, like he was encouraging you to hang on for dear life.

"That's it," Vio whispered, leaving forward to claim your lips in a heated kiss, hands roaming your clothed sides, tugging the tunic all the way open, freeing your breasts completely. He reached down, fingers finding your clit, and you practically screamed when he began to trace slow, deliberate circles over the sensitive nub. Blue growled, pace stuttering, when you clenched around him. the new position making it easier for him to hammer against that spongey spot within you. "So perfect for us."

You whimpered, head lolling against your right arm when he broke the kiss to lave licks and bites on the side of your neck, whining when Blue's pace grew erratic. "Shit, I-I'm gonna–"

"Cum for us," Vio commanded, and you did, letting out a shout as you squeezed around the blue-eyed hero, who's hips jerked one last time, a garbled hiss leaving his throat. Your body fell slack, every nerve practically thrumming with pleasure, as scalding warmth filled you. Blue's dick slipped from you, and you managed a small cringe from strings cum dripped down from your cunt, undoubtedly soaking the sheets below.

With a sigh, you allowed your hips to lower, plopping down on Blue's lap, who immediately patted your lower back comfortingly. "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," you croaked, humming when Green's hand snaked under your chin, holding you in place as he pecked your lips softly. Blue moved into your field of vision, red-faced and cross-legged with a hand already stroking himself to full-mast.

"Do you want to keep going?" He asked, and you huffed good-naturedly at the feeling of his dick against your thigh, hard and leaking. It was almost cute that he thought you were done.

"Just kiss me, hero."

And kiss you he did, deftly hoisting you to sit in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs. A shiver raced up your spine when he cupped your cheeks in both hands, You responded by snaking your arms to his back, fingers digging into his flesh, feeling the way each individual muscle moved beneath your touch.

Green's tongue prodded at your bottom lip, and you opened up without hesitation, head tilting down to enhance the angle, welcoming the intrusion. His lips were warm, slightly chapped, and you couldn't have cared less, especially when his cock pulsed heavily against your thigh, nearly enough to make you dizzy with lust. A hand wrapped around your right thigh, lifting it up while another gripped your waist, and you yelped into the kiss, realizing who it was when a hard chest pressed against your back and Vio's voice whispered in your ear. "My turn, medic."

You shivered at the implications, breaking the kiss with Green when another pair of hands tilted your jaw, revealing Red's flushed face, crimson eyes blown wide with lust. He wasted no time in claiming your mouth, swallowing your moans when Vio's fingers delved between your legs, dragging through your folds and smearing the mess over your inner thighs. "You're doing great."

Easy for him to say, you thought, but it was quickly vanquished when the purple-eyed hero lined himself with your entrance, slamming home with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. A strangled groan tore itself from the depths of your throat as his cock stretched you, but it was muffled by Red's clever mouth, tongue halfway down your throat in his eagerness.

"So tight," Vio sighed, slowly rocking his hips. Your body tensed when he pulled out agonizingly slow, only to shove himself back in the very next moment, eliciting a full-body shiver as you felt your thoughts descend into madness. Terrible, pleasured madness that threatened to drive you insane with how tightly it had woven itself through every nerve in your body, set alight by their hands alone. You trembled when Vio found a rhythm, thrusts rendering you positively boneless, clinging to Red and Green for support, which they gave freely in the form of Green moving your arms to his neck and Red wrapping a supportive arm around your waist. Even Blue joined the fray, scooting over to palm the breast closest to him, thumb flicking your pebbled nipple.

After what felt like an eternity, your mouth disconnected from Red's, leaving you panting against his lips. It was too much and not enough, but Hylia, did it feel amazing. "Goddesses," you gasped, and someone chuckled as the tunic was finally pulled from your skin, tossed to the wayside.

"Feels good, hm?" Blue's voice filtered through the other, lewder sounds circulating the room, and you didn't have to look to know he was smirking. Your head turned, preparing to snap at him, but Green caught your mouth with his own, effectively silencing whatever comeback you had planned.

And, if that wasn't enough, a sharp smack landed on your ass at the exact moment, startling you from your reverie. "Shush," Vio ordered, and it was amazing how you could already picture the stern expression he was undoubtedly making. "Let us make you feel good."

They already were, for Hylia's sake! Not that you had a chance to voice that particular thought when Vio's pace increased, his balls slapping against your clit with each thrust whilst the head of his dick grazed your sweet spot over and over again. If it weren't for Green muffling your noises, you were sure your screams could have shattered the nearest windows, which was both impressive and terrifying.

Time seemed to drag on, your mind becoming hazier and hazier as the seconds ticked by. Before you knew it, Green released your lips, dipping down to nibble the shell of your ear while you collapsed into the junction between his neck and shoulder, panting with exertion.

Until Red's hand found your chin once again, tilting your head to face him. "Look at me," he said, and it was such an unexpected request that you did, eyes half-lidded as you soaked in the beads of sweat rolling down his temples and the flushed state of his cheeks. "Keep them open."

You nodded, breath stuttering when Vio's thrusts grew harder, but Red's gaze kept you grounded. It was a bit overwhelming, being the center of attention like this, and a part of you still couldn't believe this was happening, but it was. You felt it in the ways they touched you like you were made of the most delicate of glass, or how their eyes studied every one of your movements with rapt attention. This was love, you were sure, and nothing in Hyrule could keep you from it.

Your orgasm was fast approaching, heralded by a familiar tightening in your belly, and you fought to keep your eyes open, unsure of how long you would be able to keep this up. Thankfully, Vio didn't seem keen on dragging it out longer than it had to be, panting against the skin of your shoulder as he drilled into you, hands coming up to cup both of your breasts. You moaned loudly, trembling in Green's hold as you fought to stay lucid. "G-Goddesses, I can't–"

"You can," Red said, with a stern expression that didn't quite fit his face. His gaze darted down to where you and Vio were joined, and you flushed at the sight of him actively watching you get railed by another version of himself. "Just a bit longer, okay?"

You tried to nod, but the head of Vio's cock brushed a spot within you that had you seeing stars, hissing some garbled rendition of the word 'please', though you doubted any of them would be able to decipher it. Either way, you couldn't do this for much longer, but you were determined to hold out until all of them had cum at least once. It was practically your mission at this point.

Green, as if sensing your end, brought his hand around to move two fingers into your mouth, sliding the digits on the flat of your tongue before bringing them down to swipe over your slippery clit, making you cry out. Your entire body jerked when Vio growled, teeth sinking into the exposed meat of your shoulder as he gave one final thrust. A burst of warmth filled you, and you felt yourself go limp as your climax hit, like all the bones had been removed from your body, whining softly when the purple-eyed hero pulled away, both his and Blue's cum blurting from your entrance. It ran down your thighs in sticky rivulets, undoubtedly staining the floor below.

Vio chuckled softly, and you felt his hands on your ass, kneading the round globes softly. "Look at that," he crooned in a voice that had your core clenching. "You've gotten so messy, someone ought to clean that up."

"'S not gonna be me," you shot back, regaining enough of your strength to lift your head from Green's shoulder just to glare at him from over your shoulder. "It's your mess; clean it."

Something in Vio's expression darkened, and he looked like he was about to do just that, until Green cleared his throat.

"Later," the green-eyed hero said, and you were reminded of just how patient he had been in the form of his cock straining hotly between your thighs. You shivered when he stroked your cheek tenderly, gazing into your eyes with what you could only describe as pure adoration. "Can you go again?"

The question caught you a bit off guard, but you managed to nod, mostly because why the hell not? Your hips shifted to rest fully in his lap, with Vio reluctantly releasing your ass, and you took great pleasure in watching him shudder when your warm entrance pressed against the side of his cock, leaking with past loads.

Green's lips pressed against yours, tongue swiping sweetly at your bottom lip. Your arms tightened around his neck, one hand reaching up the grasp him by the hair, earning a deep groan from the man beneath you. Your gaze flickered to Blue, Red, and Vio, who had all taken up residence around you, cocks in hand as they hastily watched the proceedings. It made you feel like you were on a stage, so why not give them a show to match?

You lifted your hips when Green's hands found your waist, positioning his quivering dick at your drooling entrance, slick from previous activities. The head slid over your folds, bumping your puffy clit, and drawing an overstimulated whimper from you. "Fuck," you said eloquently, watching with half-lidded eyes as Red's cock jerked with each pump, shiny blobs of pre practically leaking from the engorged tip, while Vio had his mouth open, giving himself long, slow strokes, and Blue was biting his lip, almost furiously fisting the head of his dick. The knowledge that they were worked up like this–not to mention that it was for you–was downright delicious, though you knew you weren't in a headspace to properly appreciate it. Maybe next time.

"Easy," Green hissed when you sank down, taking him inch by inch until your hips met with a lewd squelch. You moved to rise, but he held you in place, looking a bit concerned at your undoubtedly out-of-it expression. "Are you sure–?"

"If you don't fuck me, I swear I will ask a favor from Twi–"

You yelped when he immediately lifted your hips, using the momentum to bring them back down in a manner that could only be described as earth-shattering, only to repeat the motion again and again. Even through the haze of exhaustion, it felt impossibly good, and a part of you was glad you had taken it slower earlier, otherwise you may not have survived as far as you did. "That's it," warm breath fanned over your cheek. "Just relax."

And relax you did, though it was a battle unto itself to keep your arms from slipping when he continued to drill into you.

"You're so pretty like this," Vio's voice emanated from somewhere to the left, and it didn't take a genius to hear the smirk in his tone. "Riding Green with your tits out and our cum running down your thighs."

The others voiced their agreement, but you were far too lost in the sauce to consider the full raunchiness of his sentence past 'I could cum from that alone' and 'that's so hot', which was well and good, except that the words only served to heighten the tension in your gut. You felt about as taunt as a bowstring when Blue drew close, still stroking himself with a fervor, followed by the others, surrounding you in a circle of sin.

Only when you heard the blue-eyed hero's groan and felt the tell-tale spray of cum against your quivering side did you realize what the little bastards were up to, though there was nothing you could do but curse under your breath, tone rising in pitch each time Green guided your hips up, allowing gravity to slam them back down.

It was like a dance, one that spiraled into madness as you bounced in Green's lap, while Red and Vio jacked themselves off just inches away, and the knot in your stomach reached a fever pitch when Green buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, nuzzling at the unblemished skin before sinking his teeth into your flesh with enough force to make you yelp, though the pain quickly bled to pleasure when he angled a thrust at your sweet spot, one hand trailing down to rub enticing circles on your clit.

You finally came–arching with a garbled scream into Green's chest as he bucked into you, nearing his own end–when Red groaned loudly, mouth hanging open as his dick pulsed in his fist, sticky ropes of cum painting your hip and lower side, while Vio got more creative and aimed his orgasm to splatter directly on one side of your chest, which was hot as hell until it began to cool, though you were quickly distracted when Green rammed deep inside, filling you to the brim with a drawn-out groan.

Completely drained of any and all strength, you allowed yourself to slump against Green, not worried about falling when his arm wrapped snugly around your waist, keeping you in place as you came down from your high. "Holy..."

"That was amazing," Red was the next to speak, shuffling forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. "You're amazing."

"Thanks," you murmured with an exhausted grin, still reeling from everything that had occurred in the last... you didn't know, but more than a few hours had passed, judging by the fact that the sun seemed to be setting. At least you'd get a day to sleep before being forced to walk again.

"Think you can move?" Blue's grin was downright sinful as he drew close, one hand tipping your chin up. You tried not roll your eyes.

"That's fine," Vio interrupted softly. "We'll take care of you."

Like you haven't been doing that for the last few hours, you thought with a huff, though it quickly morphed into a soft murmur when you were lifted off of Green's cock and laid to rest on the bed, flat on your back as cum dripped from your used entrance. Fortunately, Red practically shot to the nightstand to grab the rags laid atop it, wetting it slightly using the complimentary pitcher of water. You shivered when he ran the cloth over your chest, the fabric passing over your stiff nipples. "Ah--"

"Shh," Vio's hands rubbed comforting circles on your hips as he sat between your legs, making sure you couldn't close your thighs yet. "You're okay, we're just cleaning you."

You made a noise, not trusting your voice to work just yet, and the rag continued in its quest, moving back to swipe tenderly at your sides and belly before dipping down to clean your thighs. You hissed in a breath when it brushed over your cunt, which had really begun to ache in the last minute or so. "Sorry, are you okay?"

"'M fine," you responded, knowing that it was nothing a good health potion couldn't fix. "'S normal."

"We're still sorry," Green joined the conversation, scooting beside your head with a remorseful expression. "You shouldn't have to--"

"Oh, stop it," you waved a hand weakly as Blue made his way over, laying a hand on your knee. "I'm a consenting adult and I would have said something if it wasn't normal, got it?"

"Yes ma'am," Blue chuckled, patting your thigh with a grin. "How do you feel?"

"Fucked," you managed to joke, only for Vio to pinch your belly. "Hey!"

"Be serious," the purple-eyed hero chided, thumb already smoothing over the affected area.

"Fine, fine," you relented, not wanting to incur anyone's wrath. "Tired."

"We'll let you rest," Green leaned forward to plant a smooch on your forehead, while Red's arms maneuvered under your arms, pulling you to rest against some pillows before collapsing directly to the left of you, snuggling into your side without preamble. Vio joined Red, moving higher so that he could maneuver one of your arms over for himself. Blue nuzzled into your unoccupied side, slightly nosing in your ribs, leaving Green to plop directly over you, face buried in your chest with a happy sigh. He wasn't heavy, so you let it slide, staring up at the ceiling with a quiet grin, now fully encased in sleepy heroes, not that you were blaming them, after what had just occurred.

"Love you all," you murmured, and it was the last thing you said before unconsciousness slipped forth, claiming you as its own, though the last thing you saw was none other than Green's head, which lifted so he could smile adoringly at you.

"We love you too."

And Hylia, if that didn't make everything worth it, you didn't know what would.

That's it, folks! I want to take this time to thank you all for supporting me and this story; you have no idea how much your comments/kudos/reblogs have helped me! Because of this, and the fact that I am incredibly horny for Four right now, I've decided to write a little 'extra' for this fic, so stay turned for more sin!

[superprincesspea]

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 16 - Uncle

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

When you make it into the centre of camp, you can still feel the press of Aemond’s touch on your body, and the heat of his kiss on your cheek, but there’s no time to slow your racing heart. The wheelhouse is already coming to a halt and the groom is hurrying to open the door.

Your mother emerges first, her face seemingly horrified by your tousled appearance, as she rushes to smooth your hair and pull a stray pin from where its clinging on for life.  

“Just look at the state of you!” she hisses, and you wonder if your cheeks look as flushed as they feel. 

“I think her appearance is quite becoming,” Alicent says, emerging from behind your mother’s frown with a coy smirk before she glances around for the whereabouts of her son.  

“It was the wind,” you say, pushing your hair behind your ears while knowing fine well that the wind wasn’t the only thing which had tangled with it. There had been fingers, long, deft, and impossibly gentle.   

Perhaps Alicent suspects as much, her head tilting, regarding your appearance with more scrutiny than before.  

“Was it not the race?” she counters, and you swallow fresh nerves, wondering if everyone in the wheelhouse had noticed the way you and Aemond had charged down the road.  

“That too...” you admit, and she hooks her arm into yours, tugging you into a leisurely walk towards her tent.  

So much for staying with Cassandra , you think, glancing over your shoulder to where your mother and sisters are being left behind.  

“And who won the race?” Alicent says, drawing your attention back to her face. 

“I did, your grace.”  

“Ahh,” she smiles excitedly, holding you tighter, her cheek touching your shoulder for just a moment, “and was my son an insufferable loser?”

You laugh, despite the nerves knotting in your stomach, you can’t help it. Insufferable was certainly a choice word for her second son, and though you think her completely accurate in her estimation, you dare not say it.    

“Or is he just always insufferable?” she presses, seeming to sense your reluctance, and this time you manage to contain your amusement to a smile, though you’re feeling more at ease in her company. 

“Perhaps we can agree that all men are at least a little insufferable?” you suggest, and now it's the queens turn to laugh, her body shaking, her arm holding you tighter.  

“Only a little?” she says when she’s caught her breath, and you meet the mischievous look in her eye with a small smile before she releases your arm and gestures for you to enter the royal tent. 

It's far bigger than it looks from the outside, and so bright and airy, with the sunlight diffused through the thick white linen and a pleasant breeze blowing in at just the right angle. 

You take a seat on one of the green velvet floor cushions and Alicent sits across from you, before beckoning for a maid who places two cups on the low table and fills them almost to the brim with a honey-coloured wine.   

“You know... you can tell me everything ,” she says in a hushed tone when the maid has gone, and you think it strange to gossip with the queen about such things as suitors, stranger still that her son is the man in question.  

What could you possibly say? What did she want to hear?   

You let those questions go unanswered for long enough that Alicent speaks again.  

“I noticed you were riding Ōños,” she suggests, still trying to draw you into the conversation she wants to have, and her eyes are wide and probing, desperate for any scraps of information. 

“I was.”

“Strange ,” she continues, undeterred by your lacklustre answer, “I don’t believe my son has ever allowed anyone else to ride his horse.” 

“Then I should consider myself quite fortunate. Ōños is truly a wonderful horse.” 

“If he is wonderful then it is thanks to Aemond, my son is so diligent in all matters as I'm sure you must have realised by now?”  

“Prince Aemond is certainly...” single-minded, cocky, competitive, “ dedicated .” 

She blows out a small breath of satisfaction, seeming glad to imagine that you might see him as she does. Her golden boy, her perfect son. 

“He told me you almost beat him at Cyvasse the other day,” she smiles, delighted by the idea, and you try not to laugh. The last game you’d played with Aemond had been in his room, and he was letting you win, not succumbing to it.   

“That is an exaggeration,” you insist, wondering what else Aemond might have mentioned to his mother.  

Yet, her lips purse, and from the way she sighs, you imagine he has said as little as you are saying now, and you don’t know why, but you feel the sudden urge to reveal more. Maybe it's the way her eyes turn down or because, no matter the people surrounding her, she always seems so lonely.  

“The prince...” you begin and already you regret your words, but you can’t stop now, “was so kind as to give me a tour of the library yesterday.” 

“He did?” she brightens, “and what did you think?” 

“That it was very beautiful.” 

“And where you will always find my son, if you should ever have cause to look for him...” she leans forward, seeming to forget decorum in favour of answers, “ do you? Have cause to look for him I mean?”  

“Not that I can recall,” you say, feeling certain that Aemond was not the only single-minded member of his house.  

“Do you picnic here often?” you ask, changing the subject and Alicent’s eyes turn wistful, her gaze wandering across the camp.  

“I used to bring my children here all the time when they were small, away from court where they could just be . It's so wonderful seeing Jaehaerys and Jaehaera here now.”  

You turn your head, to look where she looks, and find them charging across the clearing with their wooden swords and shields clutched tightly in hand. But it's the determination furrowed into their brows which really catches your eye, and they seem to have only one opponent in mind when he strides from the woods- Aemond .   

Your heart skips, your cheeks flushing again as you watch the kindly way he reacts to their advance. Dodging their strikes, his laughter teasing but not mocking, before he scoops Jaehaera up, stealing her sword and using it to repel her brother.    

You watch them play for quite some time, content in the silence before the queen speaks again. 

“If a lady might wish to stay at court...there is always ample space in my retinue.”  

“That is very kind of you,” you admit, turning to face her, “but I am still very much looking forward to returning home.”  

“Oh? And what, might I ask, is there to look forward to?” she pries, sipping her wine, her brow raised, “a suitor , perhaps?”   

“Well... there is…” no suitor at all, only Lord Henry, but you could not tell the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms that you would rather return home to a cat instead of marrying her son, “my other sisters, of course.”  

“Of course.” She stares at you for a long moment, her finger brushing the patten embossed on the cup, “so many Baratheon girls and not one proposal this summer? Your mother must be beside herself.”  

“Not really,” you choke, glancing down to retrieve your own cup from the table and, when you look back at the Queen, her eyes have narrowed, as though she’s trying desperately to read your mind.  

“I think my son-” she begins, just as the man in question arrives, chased by the excited war cries of his niece and nephew and, for once, you’re grateful for his overbearing presence, and the very welcomed distraction from whatever she was going to say next.   

He falls on the rug dramatically and, from the queen's easy smile, you can tell this is not an unusual circumstance when the only eyes in the vicinity are that of family and very close friends.  

“By order of the Queen, I command you to tickle him to death,” she says, and the twins cast their weapons down in fits of giggles, little fingers reaching for all the good tickle spots while you cannot possibly stop yourself from enjoying every single moment of the spectacle.  

This was certainly not the Aemond you knew and loathed.   

Yet , the more you thought about it, the more you realised that wasn’t true at all. Not anymore.   

This was the Aemond who belonged entirely to the people who knew him best, and perhaps that number was limited to less than a handful, and maybe all of them were in this tent.   

“Won’t my lady save me from these hellions?” he says, repelling their onslaught with so much gentleness and good humour that your poor heart was skipping yet again.   

“I am afraid his grace is on his own, for I can see they are far too fierce to be trifled with,” you say, as though you are completely aghast at the suggestion. 

“You are quite right,” Alicent agrees and Jaehaerys seems to enjoy your words, his chest puffing out before he retrieves his sword to deal the final killing blow to his uncle’s ribs.  

You wince when it lands, knowing it must hurt terribly and that the winded groan is certainly not part of the game. But Aemond doesn’t shout or curse like your father would, he dies on the rug with more drama than he had fallen, and you must stifle your laughter with the palm of your hand. 

Victorious, the children leave, in pursuit of a fresh victim while the queen prods her son back to life.   

“I think you enjoy that even more than they do,” she says, and you suspect she might be right.  

“I’m merely teaching them how to fight without mercy,” Aemond decides, his eye betraying the serious tone in his voice, as he sits up on his elbow with his hair ruffled from rolling around on the floor.  

“Well, since you are in such a good mood for teaching, perhaps you’d like to show the Lady Baratheon how to play hoops?” Alicent suggests, scheming again. 

“As it happens,” Aemond begins, a slow smile inching onto his lips, “I seem to be forgetting that I should be staying at least twenty paces from the lady Baratheon, that was the original agreement, was it not?”  

You swallow, hard, remembering the details of your alternative agreement, the one where Aemond’s clothes had loosened from his body and your back had been pushed up against a tree.

But Alicent knows no such things and her excited stare flicks between yourself and her son.    

“Twenty paces?” she asks quizzically and you’re suddenly wishing the twins really had run him through.    

“It was a bet, your grace,” you say, giving Aemond a sharp look, a warning look.   

“A forfeit, actually ,” he retorts, the smile still firmly fixed on his face.  

“But why twenty paces?” Alicent prods, far too interested in the details, while your heart is pounding far too hard to think of anything good to say. Certainly not the truth. 

That you cannot trust yourself with her son. That even now, when you feel like you might kill him for bringing up the forfeit, you’re more annoyed about the consequences. Because you don't want him to leave, not really. Then again, you don’t exactly want him to stay either.  

It didn’t make sense, and you couldn’t explain it even to your own mind, but you needed Aemond Targaryen to be both twenty paces away and close enough to touch at the same time.    

Gods , you hated him.

“I cannot speak for the ladies precise reasoning,” Aemond begins when it's clear you’re not going to say anything , and the wicked look in his eye is keen to make a fresh appearance, “but I believe she wishes to prevent any further attempts I might make in asking her to be my wife.”   

“Further... attempts?” Alicent gasps, wanting to be certain she was hearing him correctly and she was. You'd heard it too.   

Why had he said that? Like it was nothing, like it was just something people said.  

“At least one more attempt,” he promises, pushing himself from the floor, his bow deep, and his eye only for you.  

Then, without another word, he takes his leave, sauntering across the clearing for exactly twenty paces yet not nearly far enough considering how much you want to kill him!  

Yet , killing him would have to wait and not just because of the witnesses milling around the clearing or even the way Alicent’s eyes are hot on your face. But because you can’t move or even breathe. Your mouth is hanging open and shock has drained all life from your limbs.   

“Hm,” Alicent says, a smile completely overwhelming her face, “so it seems there has been at least one proposal this summer?”

Gods , you feel as though you could die from embarrassment, but you don’t, and you can’t exactly ignore the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.  

“Please ,” your voice is as weak as a kitten, your cheeks as bright as the dragon on the Targaryen sigil, “excuse me.”   

She holds your stare, your stomach twisting with fresh knots before she nods with a small, pitying smile, “you’re excused. For now. ”  

You can’t dwell on what exactly she means by that, and you don’t want to. You stand on shaky legs and do what you should have done when the wheelhouse arrived in camp.   

You walk directly to Cassandra and cling to her side, feeling a heady mix of fury and anticipation each time you catch sight of Aemond, and recall the casual way he’d told his mother that he intended on proposing again .  

It was yet another humiliation to add to your repertoire, and for a man who had no intention of ever embarrassing you, he was certainly well adapted to it.   

You’re glad when it's time to leave and find yourself watching, with some regret, as Aemond races ahead of the procession with Ser Criston Cole, leaving you to travel with Ser Maurin as your only company. 

You’d like to say it didn’t matter, that the views were entertainment enough, but you’d be lying. The ride is hot, long and incredibly dusty. Its nearly teatime when you finally make it back to the Red Keep and there is so much fanfare and chaos to mark your arrival that you’re almost certain something��has happened while you were away.    

The yard is crammed with people, double the amount from this morning and one of them is Otto Hightower, his face stark and serious as he waits to speak with his daughter.  

Trying not to stare, you encourage Ōños towards the stable and you’re surprised to see Aemond is waiting for you, resting against a post with a book to occupy his time.  

“I trust you enjoyed the ride home?” he says, looking up from the page before snapping the heavy cover shut.   

With a sigh, you swipe the back of your hand across your forehead and give him a pointed look. “You know I didn’t.”  

He smiles then, easing the book under his arm before opening the stable gate, and you wonder if Aemond’s the reason there are no stable boys or groomsmen to attend you. 

“I did as you bid me to and remained at twenty paces for the duration of the picnic,” he says, swapping Ōños’ bridle for a halter and you have to admit, you were somewhat surprised that he’d managed to maintain his end of the forfeit, and less surprised when he reaches to pull you from the horse. 

“Now we shall need to make up for it,” he says but you’d anticipated his touch and are quick to dismount on the opposite side to where he is standing with his arms still outstretched.    

“His grace seems to be implying that I missed his company. I must assure him, I did not .”  

When he laughs, the sound catches in the back of his throat, his arms falling back to his sides. “Then perhaps you’ll be glad to hear we had some guests arrive while we were at leisure.”  

You think of the chaos in the yard along with the grave look on Otto’s face. “Who?”  

“My sister.”  

“Princess Rhaenyra?” you say, not really a question, more the testing of a name which you’ve rarely had cause to speak until now.   

“One and the same,” Aemond answers, his tone flat, as he unbuckles  Ōños’ saddle before passing you a long brush to brush him down.  

A dozen questions spring to the tip of your tongue but you swallow them, suddenly recalling the knowing smirks which Alicent had been aiming at you all afternoon. 

Still, it wasn’t Ōños’ fault that his master was the worst man in the entire world, so you don’t throw the brush back at Aemond like you’re tempted to do, you run it across Ōños’ silky white coat with the reverence he deserves.   

Afterall, it wasn’t often you were expected to put away your own horse, but there was something strangely relaxing about the mundanity of the task, and you wonder if Aemond thinks it too.   

He’s quiet, perhaps even a little pensive, as he inspects Ōños’ shoes before finding another brush so you can work together, and it's a comfortable silence. The hubbub of the courtyard barely carrying past the stable doors.  

“I shall be eating dinner with my… family this evening. I don’t suppose you would care to join us?”   

“Me?” you scoff. “I’m quite certain I would rather-” you don't say more, you meet his eye, ashamed of your reaction. Dinner with the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was a great honour even if you didn’t want it.  

“You’d rather what ?” he moves so he can search your face more readily, “throw yourself from the tallest tower of the keep instead of breaking bread with my sister and her bastards?”   

Bastards?  

You inhale sharply, your mind stumbling over the word and Aemond let’s its usage swell in the silence, his eye still studying you. Testing you in some way. Perhaps he wants you to challenge him, to call him a traitor, but you don’t. You’re afraid of even hearing such a word.  

“Personally, I would rather throw myself into the mercy of the sea,” he admits, and his voice is soft, his fingers reaching to touch your hair, but you move away, thrusting the brush back into his hand.   

Just because you harbour no wish to speak ill of his sister, does not mean you have no wish to speak on other matters, “do not think for one moment that I have already forgotten what you said in front of your mother!”  

“What I said?” he asks, tilting his head as though he is completely oblivious, when you’re almost certain Aemond could count on one hand the amount of time’s he’d been oblivious to anything.   

“You know what I’m talking about.” Marriage, proposals. It was not the sort of thing a person could easily forget.  

Amusement flickers in his eye, “refresh my memory.”  

“I will not,” you snap, attempting to leave him behind as you exit the stable, but there’s really no escaping Aemond Targaryen’s long stride, and he’s soon hooking his hand under your elbow.  

“If you will not tell me of your complaint Lady Baratheon then please allow me to make you a promise...”  

You glance back at him, regretting your curiosity the moment his eye darkens.   

“Starting now,” he begins, leaning in as though you are conspiring, “it will be no secret that I want you, no matter who is watching us and, when you have my child in your belly, there will be no question over his parentage.”  

No question over his parentage?  

“There shall certainly be questions,” you retort tartly, snatching your arm away, “such as what in the world I was thinking in allowing you to put it there in the first place.”  

“I can suggest at least one reason,” he says, and you hate his stupid arrogant smirk just as much as you wonder what the exact details of that one reason would be. But not enough to ask him, certainly not enough for that. 

Instead, you turn back towards the keep and see a man stalking towards you, a stranger, yet you’re in little doubt of his pedigree. Even if it wasn’t for the white hair crowning his head, there’s a certain devilish cockiness which rests so comfortably on his face that you cannot help but think of Aemond. Just older, more battle worn, yet not worn out.  

Almost all the women in the yard are watching the way he strides and perhaps it’s because his leather trousers are indecently tight, his shirt billowing in all the places where it doesn’t plaster to his skin.  

You imagine he must have been practicing swordplay in the yard for quite some time, and the sword in question is still swinging in his hand, long and dangerous, steel glinting in the sunlight. 

“This is my uncle, Prince Daemon,” Aemond says, when he comes to stand directly in front of you, “and this is my Lady Baratheon.”  

“Your grace,” you curtsy, and Daemon sinks the tip of his sword into the dirt at your feet, his eyes slowly scraping from your face and down the entire length of your body as though he’s appraising every last inch.  

“Well done, nephew,” he smirks, his gaze flicking to meet with Aemond’s and you gasp at the audacity in his tone, your temper flaring when Aemond says nothing to refute him.   

In fact, when you tilt your head to glare at him, Aemond’s smiling as though he relishes his uncle's approval. As though the many weeks he’d spent tormenting you was, indeed , very well done.  

“Do not allow my presence to interrupt whatever passionate conversation you were having,” Daemon adds, leaning into his sword, his brow raised and his head tilting expectantly. 

You open your mouth to speak, to refute whatever ideas he might be having, but before any words break free, you feel Aemond’s hand on your back, the press of his fingers dulled by your cloak but impossible to ignore.  

“I was just telling my lady that I shall escort her back to her chambers,” he says, his arm sliding to command yours and you don’t refuse him, doing so would surely be a humiliation on his part and you’re not cruel enough for that. 

You dip into another curtsy for his uncle and allow Aemond to lead you away, stopping only when the yard is far from view, your arm hastening from his. 

“I shall be glad to escort myself the rest of the way.” 

“Very well,” Aemond concedes, his hand’s fastening behind his back, his head gesturing down the hall without complaint.  

You start, both confused and surprised by how readily he’d allowed the rejection of his company, but you don’t question it.  

You turn, thinking you should be pleased with the situation yet finding yourself quite vexed. And why? You certainly didn’t want Aemond Targaryen to escort you.  

Or did you?  

No , what you wanted was, in some ways, far worse. You wanted Aemond to want it enough to ignore your own stubborn resolve, and you couldn’t understand that desire any more than you could understand why you desperately wanted him to kiss you.  

You begin to walk, cursing every part of your mind which seemed to be succumbing to his infuriating set of charms, and you barely make it more than five paces, before his steps have fallen in time with yours. Not by your side as before, but behind as though you were his lady and he your humble servant.  

Stopping, you turn back to face him, “what are you doing?” 

Resting back on his heel, Aemond seems to give great thought to the question before answering with a shrug as though it was quite obvious, “ walking .” 

“But your room is in that direction,” you say, pointing back down the hall and a smile threatens his cheeks, his jaw tightening just enough to hold it at bay. 

“I’m not going to my room, but I’m glad to know my lady has memorised its location.” 

“Do not flatter yourself,” you say, quickly turning to hide your own smile, which has escaped, quite inexplicably, onto your face.  

Then you begin to walk again, and a tall, leather shadow mirrors your every step. Not at all rebuffed by your stubborn resolve, but diligent, single-minded, and you can hardly stand yourself for how much you enjoy it. Or how forlorn you feel when you reach the door to your chamber, and he turns away.  

~~~

Thank you for reading!! :)

[erinwantstowrite]

Hello!!!! Who is everyone dating in LoF (if they're dating anyone at all)?? :D

AHH good question!! I have a general idea for most characters, but for some I have plans :3

As for dating:

I honestly have no clue with Bruce, but that's just how it is all the time, isn't it?

Dick is dating Wally, because Birdflash for the win!! But he has dated Kori in the past, Babs, (and etc) and they're still good friends to this day :)

Jason I'm still debating on. I like him and Roy and I think it's a popular ship? I haven't looked too far into it. I also hear that Jay, Roy, AND Kori are a ship and that's so so so good

Tim and Kon are in their "will they won't they" where everyone else knows they're dating and they also know they're dating but they don't bring it up at all. Also might have a YJ polycule just for funsies, don't really know atp

I need to read more about Damian and Flatline (AKA Nika) but from what I've seen so far they are. ADORABLE. Like so freaking cute I can't stand it

Cass and Steph are also dating- if anyone is worried about a detail that was in a previous chapter that would make that WAY weird, I went back and edited that. My mistake, y'all, that's on me.

A lot of people asked about Lanky and Shoes and this is my formal announcement: Yes, they are in love!!

As for other characters, it's up in the air. It really depends on what I see everyone ask about the most (but final decision is left to me :3). If I see that people like a certain ship and it's good, I could go ahead and mention it in the background, etc.

And for Peter: Ned.

A lot of people have looked at me strange for this one, but I thought it would be fun to explore that dynamic. I know Ned isn't MJ, or Harry, or whatever other ship people like, but I think they're cute. Some people stopped reading because of it, but I don't want to go back on it... So I don't think I will. I understand where most come from, it's not their cup of tea, but others were just plain nasty and I had to delete their comments on the fic itself, tiktok, etc.

Right now, they're best friends!! Ned is definitely aware he has a crush and is ignoring it, but Peter has no idea. That's 'cause they're both younger in this fic and I think right now they have more important things to worry about than Love. It's more of a puppy crush thing right now, more subtext than plain text.

But later on in the story, it's going to be explored. I may or may not write them becoming a couple or putting a label on it, but it will be talked about. It really depends on where the story goes. But I am of the belief that romantic love isn't the only type of love that can be written about, and at the end of the day, LoF is about the various forms of love and grief.

I think a good way to term Peter is biromantic asexual? I'm not too sure about the terminology here, so take that with a grain of salt. I'm pretty sure bisexuality is on the ace spectrum? Like he's still 14 and he's got a lot of time to figure that out. In my head that's just how it is.

I hope to have a lot of representation in LoF! There's a lot to explore and being apart of the community, I know how important it is. And I hope I don't actually have to moderate my comments because of it, that would suck

[socksracoon10]

Is That It?

A/N: AHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER, IVE JUST BEEN SO BUSY OK?!??! IM SO SORRY GUYS I REALLY MEAN IT! But omg im so glad im back to writing and finally done with this draft! Pairing: Will Turner x F!Reader

"You think he's ever coming back?" Your friend, Charlotte, questioned you. You were busy scrubbing the floor of the Governor's room with a very thing rag of cloth. You held it up, unfolding it to get a glimpse of all its holes and tears, a predicament to your tireless work. Gazing into one of the holes which led to the view of the sea outside the grand window, you let out a desolate sigh,

"I've lost all hope."

"Such a shame, I really thought he was interested in you." Charlotte huffed out, before sneezing against the dressing table; the dust flying in every direction it could find. You rolled your eyes, returning back to your work. It had been such a long time since you had heard anything about Will Turner, you almost thought you had forgotten his existence. The first few days after he had left was a blow to your guts, but then as time went on, you managed to adapt a new life - one which definitely didn't involve you making frequent pit stops at the blacksmith's workshop.

All you remembered was him hurriedly running about, fighting the incoming pirates. One of them had their hands wrapped around your throat, their eyes burning into your soul as they repeatedly uttered foreign words to your ears. You didn't understand it, you had no need to. All you could think about was finding a way out of the situation you were in; Will also had the same idea, because in a short amount of time, he hopped over to you and crashed a bottle of rum against the pirate's head and then looked back up at you in anger.

"What are you doing here?" He croaked out, grabbing you by your arm before dragging you off.

"I was coming to find you!" You exclaimed, shaking your head, "I didn't know it was going to get this bad out of nowhere! Who even are these people?"

"Pirates, and I don't - well, they took Elizabeth." He grumbled and you sucked your teeth to hide the surge of jealousy coursing through your veins. Yes, they were childhood friends and were very well acquainted with each other, but you had spent more time with Will than anyone else! I mean, who let him into the Governor's quarters to deliver the swords? Who made food for him and left them at his doorstep? You did, of course! But the oaf was always so caught up with his feelings for Elizabeth, you could hardly ever tell if you were just there as his "best friend" or someone to service him.

When he had left without informing you, you felt at first very much betrayed. And then you felt anger course through your veins only to be simmered down with your gut rattling in resentment. You figured you were dead to him, and that him leaving abruptly was a sign that you no longer meant anything to him. You scowled at yourself, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to make the best of the situation at hand. The only thing your mind told you to do was to move on, with or without him. It did not matter anymore.

The Governor had seen promise in you after the disappearance of his daughter and Commodore Norrington was charged with sending you back to England for an education. You were, after all, the same age as Elizabeth and showed "some sign of intelligence" according to the people around you. You held your tongue, head faced downwards because as much as Port Royal was home to you, this opportunity would never cross your path ever again. It would only be wise to employ it and distract yourself from the boredom within the port. Besides, your only friend had left you, so there really was no point in sticking around in this dreary place. You sighed, nodding your head at whatever the old men would instruct you to do, and found yourself aboard a ship, setting sail towards England for a new chapter in your life. ****

"What's going on? What's with the ruckus?" You had asked, emerging from the special quarters on the ship. The weather was monstrous, the thunder booming every 5 seconds as a reminder of the treacherous seas. The waves splashed against the ship, churning it as if it were butter. The first mate on the crew instructed you to return back to your room, but you could barely understand what was going on. Should your return to Port Royal be this miserable? Was this the sea's way of telling you to return to England? After finishing 2 dreadfully long years of education through a prestigious - and prude - tutor, you longed to return to that misshapen cottage you once called home. At the moment, it seemed that your grave would lack the corpse it needed if everyone on board was going to drown. From the fog, your eyes bore into the sight of a mysteriously, large ship. Its flag tethered, its wood withered. As the crew around you began panicking, screaming, and crying for mercy, you stood there in shock. This was a pirate ship.

You remembered Will. He had gone after Elizabeth after she had been abducted by those foul creatures. You wondered what happened to him, wondered if he was still the same sweet Will you had grown up with. As the ship in front of you came to a stop, the planks were drawn out. Ah, now was probably a good time to head back into your quarters.

"Wait, wait, Miss (L/N), you cannot leave us! Where are you going!" A small boy had asked. You pitied him, he was no more than 6 years old. Feeling your heart battle with morality, you caught hold of his arm and dragged him into your quarters. You pushed the bed to its side and hid behind it, closer to the wall with the boy seated on your lap. You brought a hand over his mouth and whispered into his ear,

"Not a word out of you. We do not want to be killed."

That was enough to have him behave. The sounds outside only increased tenfold. You could hear flesh being slain, and bones crushing against metal swords. Gruesome, vile noises. You gagged to yourself, resting your head against the wall as you tried to formulate an escape from all this. There had to be another way. You peered over the side of the bed, noticing a shadow behind the door; it lingered for a few more seconds before a sword came pummeling through. The boy in your arms shrieked in horror, and you clasped his mouth shut as you shrank into the corner of the room. There was a sword tucked into the wooden boards under you, mainly for the ship's captain. He wouldn't be needing it now. You propped yourself with your knees, pulling the board open as the boy snuck his arm in to retrieve the glistening sword for you. When you caught hold of the metal, you merely nodded your head to the boy and then stood up to guard him. The door to the quarters was being ripped down by the pirates outside, and you stepped back, the sword stretched out towards the incoming villains.

"Stand back, foul pirates! You do not want to mess with me!" You bellow, swiping your sword around. The pirates that had finally come into view all snickered under their breath, their gazes dark and unforgiving. You saw one press his foot forward, and you jutted the sword out as a warning. He smiled in response, before they all turned their heads to face the man pushing through them.

"Out of the way, out of the way, move," A voice splintered through, and through the darkness of the storm, you couldn't make his face out exactly. The little boy behind you brought the candle from the wall over to the crowd, and that was when the light illuminated Will's face. Your jaw dropped at first, words disintegrating into the air at the sight of him.

"Will?" Your eyes widened, shoulders sagging just a bit. Will raised an eyebrow, scanning you very carefully before he noticed the locket around your neck. It was an oval shape, crafted by him as a gift for your 12th birthday. His hands gently came to lift it up in the light, and a soft gasp escaped his lips,

"(Y/N), it's you!" He exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace. The sword fell from your hands, clattering onto the ground below as you stood there in shock. You had never thought you'd see him again, and here he was… as a pirate?!? Your blood was boiling, the audacity of him to even hug you when you had spent years worried over him. You shoved him off before slapping him across his face. The crowd of pirates behind him winced in unison, all of them awkwardly looking away.

"I-I never thought that'd happen to me," Will groaned, rubbing his sore cheek. He watched you push past him to the deck outside, the storm still relentlessly pouring down onto the men aboard. You looked so foreign to him, standing there in those fancy nightgowns that he had only ever seen Elizabeth wear. When he had left you that night, he had embarked on a journey that had changed his entire life. He had discovered that his father was a pirate and that he was meant to be among the seas, not toiling away in Port Royal. Elizabeth had managed to find a hold among the seas too, but she declined Will's proposal to her. She told him she had viewed him more as a brother than anything else, and while that did hurt him at first, he slowly came around to understand it.

And then he remembered you, waiting for him at Port Royal. Even with all that had happened, he never wanted to come back because he believed that by showing up unexpectedly, he was only hurting you more. He figured your life as a maid was already bad enough; he was wrong, clearly. You no longer looked like a maid, you looked like the daughter of a prestigious family. He chewed his lip, eyes grazing over your form to understand what this new transformation meant but before he could even ask, he saw Jack Sparrow stumbling towards you. That was more than enough for him to try and save you.

"My lovely lady, what ever brings you-" Jack began, abruptly cut off by Will jumping in,

"Ah, that's enough of that," He glared at Jack, before forcing a smile towards you, "(Y/N), please. I need some time to talk to you. Alone. Privately."

"I could help the mistress dry her clothes," Jack grinned, stepping forward. You caught a glance of Will sucking his teeth in, trying his hardest to maintain his composure. You smirked, remembering the days when you used to tease him for always carrying a wooden gun, pretending to be an officer. He had that same look on his face, that grumpy attitude when someone tried to break up your play time. Your eyes softened, reminiscing the good days. You sorely missed him, that was for sure.

"Well, as grateful as I am that you have offered to be of some assistance to me, pirate," You crinkled your nose, pushing past Jack, "I suppose I could have some pity towards this man and converse with him… of course, if he promises to have the little boy on board with him."

Will's mouth parted slightly, frowning at your words, "I… I'm not… the uh… it doesn't matter with me, I mean I'd keep him…" He paused, momentarily to peer down at the little boy next to you, before looking to Jack, "It's up to him, though. He's the Captain."

"I am! I am!" Jack cheered, clasping his hands together. You crossed your arms, turning to Will,

"You're not even Captain?" You questioned through gritted teeth.

"I… no. Is that… Is that bad?" He shrugged, wincing at the way your shoulders were rising. You merely huffed out in annoyance, grabbing the ends of your dress to stalk off to the opposite side of the deck. Your anger was uncontrollable. He wasn't even Captain? Then what the hell was he doing for so long away from you? An absolute waste of time! You grumbled under your breath, feeling every urge in your body to lash out on him. When you swiftly turned on your heels, you were faced with a very apologetic Will who was trying his best to comfort you,

"Listen, it's not as bad as you-"

"Oh, shut it! I have spent years, years pining for you! I thought you were dead! I thought you had gone off with Elizabeth, or spent the rest of your life stuck on an awful ship! The possibilities, the scenarios I had thought about your future! And, and… and even if you were a pirate, I figured you'd be a Captain with all the skills you have! What even are you? You horrible creature, you vile beast! You tormented me for this long and this is all you could do? How dare you even show your face to me after all you have done!?!" You bellowed, slapping his face. Will stepped backwards, his mind reeling at your words.

"That's it?" Will asked, eyes wide open as he stared at you.

"That's it?" You repeated, chest heaving in shock, "Is that it? Really? That's all you have to say? I just confessed my feelings and that's all you have to say!"

Will stood there, like a sword lodged into a piece of wood. He swallowed, thickly, trying everything that he could to understand what was happening. You had just confessed that you have had feelings for him since you were young, that you were worried sick for him this whole time. He felt like a fool! To think that he had spent ages worshipping Elizabeth when you were right there beside him. He looked down in embarrassment, feeling a bit ashamed at this revelation. You had shoved him to the side, angrily muttering things under your breath as you headed towards the broken quarters.

And Will knew, as he watched you go, that he had to make up for this somehow. He'd start by showing you just how much he had missed you too.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Chapter 2

Your second meeting with Nikolai

cw: cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, blow jobs, piv, abusive relationships, shower sex, he gives her alcohol to calm her down

Masterpost

You knew the drill this time. All your clothes taken off, this time folded, and left in a stack on the floor. The panties and bra he left you were still too small and were a light pink this time. He must have a collection somewhere, hopefully one he bought rather than gathered. The door beeped and unlocked. 

“Kotenok, come here,” He called down the hall from the living room. You hurried over, footsteps softened by the rugs he had laid everywhere. “Ahh, there you are. Prekrasnyy”

He was standing by the bar, shaking a cocktail, shirtless with his various tattoos on display. “Do you drink?”

“Not normally, Sir.” You stood next to the bar, hands at your side. He poured out the shaker into a glass and slid it over to you. 

“I don’t want you shaking as much tonight.” He gave you a pointed look till you picked up the glass and took a sip. It was fruity and strong, burning a bit as you swallowed.

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“Go wait for me on the couch.” He turned his back to grab another bottle off the shelf for his own drink. 

His house was always a bit cold, making your nipples hard and your skin pimple. Your feet were always cold since he never gave you shoes. A double edged sword considering how others had made you pace for hours wearing six inch and higher heels. 

You sat on the couch trying to seem sexy, back straight with your chest jutting out and a leg extended across the cushions. Just be an object, a pretty object for him to stick his fingers into. 

A hand gripped the back of your neck, not painfully but forcibly. He held you still as you gasped.

“Finish your drink, Kotenok.” He tilted your head back so your eyes were on him. You drank it down in three quick gulps, maintaining eye contact with him. You watched carefully for any sign of pleasure or approval but nothing came. “No more shaking, yes?”

You nodded and he let go of your neck. The liquor sloshed around in your stomach. He had a heavy pour that was clear. 

He sat down and motioned for you to come over. He guided you till your head was laying on his lap, face up towards the ceiling. He held your neck again, massaging the sides of it. He smelled like oud and musk and tobacco and gunpowder.

“You fuck anyone else today?” He asked, taking a sip from his own drink glass. 

“Yes, Sir.” Don’t shake, you screamed at yourself. “I cleaned myself before coming. I remembered how you like it.”

He gave you a pleased sigh,  “Good girl.”

You tensed up as he sat his drink down on your forehead. “Don’t spill.”

One of his thumbs forced its way into your mouth, his ring catching on your teeth. You dug your nails into your legs, transferring all your anxious energy to other parts of your body. Both your hands fit around his one, holding it gently while you sucked on his finger. Condensation from his glass dripped down onto your forehead. 

“Are you afraid of me, Kotenok?” He asked, pulling his finger from your mouth only to flick it against one of your nipples. You bit down on your tongue to stop yourself from flinching. 

“No, Sir.” His hand trailed down to rest on your stomach. You avoided looking at him, not wanting to see if he caught your lie. You were in his den, laying between his teeth, praying he wouldn’t clamp down. You knew enough about the men who paid Arno to know he was dangerous. Outside of these meetings he exchanged blood for gold. The security, the art, the liquor, the sheets all cost money. A lot of money. The tattoos were the same you saw on Russian mobsters. 

“Are you afraid of Arno?”

Yes. Arno was in charge of the club, of you, and the rest of the girls. He was the one who trapped you into debt, threatened your safety if you tried to flee. His threats weren’t empty. A couple months ago a girl got as far as Glasgow before being dragged back here. He gathered everyone into the main club room and broke her legs. You never saw her again. You imagine she went to one of the clients that paid extra to break their toys. 

Arno slapped you across the face once because he thought you gave him a dirty look. He rarely fucked any of his girls. His drug habit prevented him from getting hard so it was more to save himself embarrassment than a lack of desire. On good days he kept to himself in his office.

“Kotenok, answer my question.” His fingers flexed against your stomach, claws ready to come out and gut you. 

“Yes,” you said meekly. 

“He take the money I gave you?”

“No.” It was tucked away safely in the lining of your coat. You told no one about it. A hundred years ago the Romanov girls sewed jewels into their petticoats. It caused the bullets to ricochet around the room when they were killed. Pound notes wouldn’t protect you the same but the coat was yours. You slept in it most nights, a better blanket than you’d ever been given. 

“Good.” He patted your stomach. “He’s a fucking siklo.”

“What does that mean?” The question slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“He’s a pussy,” he chuckled. “You can tell him I said that. Might not work well for you if you do though.”

He took the glass off your head and downed it one gulp. He took your chin between two fingers and turned your head to his crotch. He stopped you from sliding off the couch to get between his legs. “Want you up here with me.”

It was an awkward angle as you rolled over onto your stomach. His hand rubbed circles on your ass as you undid his trousers. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you rubbed his cock through his boxers. His head was already tilted back, eyes closed. 

You wondered if you could bite his throat hard enough to kill before he could stop you. You took an anatomy class once, the vein was right up front, right? That’s where they always cut in movies. He’d kill you before he died or someone else would kill you afterwards. You could get a lick in before that. Get an ounce of flesh for revenge before he cracks your skull under his foot. 

He pinched your ass. You’d stopped moving.

“Sorry, Kolya.” You kissed his cock through the fabric. 

He hummed pleasantly, eyes still closed. You stroked him to half hardness before taking his tip into your mouth. You bobbed your head, sucking on his tip when you went up. He groaned softly, bucking his hips up as you took him deeper and deeper. His breath hitched when you licked his slit. He pinched your ass again when you took him out of your mouth completely, only to rub the spot apologetically when you took his balls into your mouth, stroking his length with your free hand. 

“Want to come in your mouth, Kotenok.” A hand tangled in your hair and pulled you upwards. You took him back into your mouth, lavishing your tongue around the head of his cock. His groaning turned to growls. He flooded your mouth with hot salt. He held your head still, lazily thrusting his twitching cock down your throat. 

When he moved his hand you finally pulled yourself off him and laid your head sideways on his thigh. 

His thumb tugged your lower lip down, opening your mouth for him to look inside. You stuck your tongue out, showing you swallowed him. 

“Did they feed you tonight?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“No, sir. They didn’t.” 

He sighed, “Arno never takes care of his girls.”

He moved you off his lap and left. Your head was busy. You didn’t know what to think of him. He had been kind but you weren’t here because you wanted to be and he knew that. He knew Arno made money off your rape. He paid for it and presumably for the pleasure to do the same to other girls before you. You told yourself to remember that. No matter how nice he was to you, he was not a good man. He’d just as soon kill you as fuck you.

You sat up when he reentered the room, a plate in hand. A chicken breast and some roasted vegetables. Your mouth watered. Food at the club was protein bars and whatever snacks you could get your hands on. You didn’t remember the last time you ate meat. 

“Eat. You’ll need the energy.”

“Thank you.” You said, taking the plate as carefully as you could. Part of you was afraid he’d snatch it back before you could get one bite in. You ate slowly or so you thought.

“Hungry, Kotenok?” He chuckled.

“I’m sorry.” You rested your fork on the plate, face turning hot.

“Don’t be. You need to eat. Finish your meal.” He nodded at you.

You sat cross legged beside him, moaning as the juice from the chicken hit your tongue. He rubbed the back of your neck. There was a fascination in his eyes like he’d never seen someone eat before. 

“You don’t go hungry when you’re here, understood? I don’t want to hear your stomach growling when I’m trying to sleep.”

You nodded as you swallowed a mouth full of veggies. He wiped the corner of your mouth, “Good girl.”

When you finished eating he tucked you under his arm and turned on the news. His fingers played with the elastic of your panties. He leaned in to press his lips to your hairline, “Touch yourself. I want you wet for me.” 

You might have played it up, breathing heavy against his side as you played with your clit. Two fat, ringed fingers pushed their way into your mouth. You remembered his words from last week, “I don’t like liars.” You quieted down, sucking on his fingers obediently. His arm kept you pinned to him in a pseudo headlock. The hair of his arm tickled your face. You felt a pulse in your cunt, liquid heat pooling inside you. Last week’s lube was a courtesy, you understood that now. You rolled your hips a little, grinding against your hand. 

His cock was still out. You watched him grow larger and perk up under the curve of his stomach. Drool was seeping out around his fingers and dripping down your chin onto his leg. He hooked one of his fingers against the corner of your lips and pulled, letting a cascade of drool pour out with a chuckle.

“Want you to ride me, Kotenok.” He wiped his wet fingers on your stomach.

Straddling him on the couch was when you first became aware of how small you were to him. There was a burn in the muscles of your thighs. Your hips fit perfectly into his hands as he lowered you down on his cock. You held his shoulders tight, gasping and whining as each inch disappeared inside you. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out. It was a hungry look. Men often looked like they wanted to devour you, he was the first who might actually be able to do so. 

He let you take a moment as you sat flush with his hips. He rubbed your spine, murmuring in Russian against your cheek as he laid small kisses. He’d never kissed you before. You hadn’t moved yet and your thighs were shaking. You felt overstuffed, your pussy clenching around him as it adjusted. You let out a shuddered breath. 

He leaned back, arms stretched out across the back of the couch as you started to roll your hips. You tucked your head under his chin, riding his cock. Your ass smacking against his thighs. The head of his cock dragged against your walls and you couldn’t help but keen when his cock bumped against that spot inside you. 

“Yebat,” he groaned, a hand slapping against your ass. He suddenly gripped your hips and started thrusting up into you. “Pussy fucking made for me.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders, “Kolya…fuck…Kolya.”

Part of you hated how good his cock felt inside you. Hated that this is what you had to do to survive now. Hated how you shivered when his stubble rubbed against your cheek when he nipped at your earlobe. Hated how vulnerable you were yet you were moaning wantonly on his cock.

You slipped a hand between your legs to rub your clit, scissoring it between two fingers. His hot breath skated across your face,“Going to come on my cock again?”

“Yes, Kolya,” You cried. You hardly knew how to discern between pretend and actual pleasure anymore. What want really was. You did want to come but you’d rather be alone with a toy between your legs rather than riding the cock of a large Russian man. A large calloused hand gently pushed yours away and began to rub your clit with fervor. 

“Come.” He ordered. You melted in his hold, your teeth dragging against his chest. Your thighs gave out, collapsing you fully on his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm, muttering about how tight you were. “Going to fill you up, Kotenok.”

He grabbed your hair and pulled your head backwards, your chins touching. “Open your mouth,” he breathed. You did and he spit into it. You kept your eyes on him as you swallowed. He grunted loudly, cum filling any space left in your cunt. 

He slumped against the couch while you did the same against his chest. His heart was beating wildly under the hair and tattoos. 

He kept you on his cock, lighting his cigar as he went soft inside you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your head under his chin. He smelled good. You tried to let yourself relax. He’d turned the news off at some point, letting the two of you sit in silence. He laughed softly. You glanced up and he was staring down at you.

“You’ve made a mistake.” You opened your mouth to apologize, confused as to what you could have done in this moment. “You’ve made me like you too much. Going to call you back every Tuesday. You’re a good cocksleeve.” 

He made you another drink and then another. Then fucked you on the floor doggy style. He fucked your throat again after turning on a football match. You started to lose track of what was happening when he pushed you down onto the floor again. Several hours later you were splayed out on the rug, cum dripping out of you and “Kolya” coming out like a mantra. He heaved you up and over his shoulder.

“Did I tire you?” He chuckled, smacking your ass. Your head rolled listlessly as he carried you upstairs. 

He wiped you clean with a warm wet rag before pulling the comforter over you. You drifted off quickly. His bed was soft and warm, much more comfortable than the cot you slept on in the club’s basement. A lot of men didn’t let you sleep in their bed. One even handcuffed you to the couch for the night so he could sleep without worry. You woke up an hour later with Kolya’s arm around your middle, his nose buried in your hair. He didn’t grumble when you got up to drink water or use the bathroom. Only beckoned you back to him, pulling the covers back over the two of you. 

At one point woke up to him pulling one of your legs over his hips, cock sliding between your folds. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “Want you like this.”

Exhaustion pulled you back under easily even with his hips hitting your ass and his hand groping your breast.  

You woke up alone in bed. No tea left for you on the side table. Through the bathroom door you heard the shower running. You dragged yourself out of bed and to the bathroom, knocking on the door.

“Come in!” He called. 

The bathroom was so full of steam you could barely make sense of where anything was. A wet hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the shower. He pinned you to the wall of the shower while kissing you sloppily. It felt intimate in a way you weren’t familiar with. He cradled your face while stealing the air from your lungs. His knee slid between your legs and you felt his cock on your thigh.

“Dobroye utro,” he purred.

“Good morning…?” You guessed his words. 

“You learn quickly,” He grinned. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, opening your mouth for his tongue to slide in. Kissing clients was not a regular occurrence, wanting to kiss them back never happened. Yet here you were, moaning softly as his tongue tangled with yours. He rolled one of your nipples between his fingers. “Want you again.”

He fucked you against the shower wall, your legs wrapped around his middle as he bucked into you. You were sure you’d cut open his back with your nails. He sucked a mark against the crook of your neck. He moaned when you tugged on his hair. He came on the tiles only to pin you to them again and rub your clit till you were jelly. 

“You’re shaking again.” He said, holding you by an arm around your waist as he cleaned you both up with a washcloth. 

“I’m hungry,” you answered, honestly.

“Let’s get breakfast, then, yes?”

He got you a plush robe to wear.. He padded around the kitchen in his boxers. From your place atop the counter you watched him make batter and pour a small amount into a pan. He was making you crepes. 

His phone started ringing and he sighed as he looked at the screen. 

“Go wait in the dining room for me, okay, Kotenok.” You nodded and left quickly, hearing him switch to Russian on the phone. He sounded upset and you wondered if you were going to actually get food before leaving. 

You sat to the right of the head chair, resting your chin on the table as you waited. You could hear him get loud every so often. 

“Eat up and I’ll call your car.” He laid a plate in front of you. Two crepes layered with strawberry jam and whipped cream. He was tense, you could tell by the way his hand held the plate. 

“Everything okay?” A dangerous question. It was none of your business. Nothing to concern yourself with. You added quickly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He rested a hand between your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. My Kotenok’s just worried about me, yes?”

You nodded, looking up through your lashes. Sweet as a lamb you could be. Don’t shake. Don’t shake.  You took his hand and kissed his rings, “Yes, Kolya.”

“Eat your food.”He ordered, sitting down beside you with a cup of espresso in hand. 

“Thank you, Kolya.”

The bottom of one crepe was burnt. You ate it without a word.

He walked you to the front door this time. Kissed your shoulder as he took the robe off. 

“For you,” he handed you another stack of hundred pound notes. Six this time. You held it close to your chest. 

He pushed your hair from your face and kissed your cheek. “See you next week.”

He shut the door behind you, locking you out. You put your clothes on as quickly as you could before shoving the notes into the lining of your coat with the rest. 

The car was idling outside. 

“Hurry up,” Abel snapped. He was one of several drivers Arno had on hand. He was also the meanest. Acted like he was dropping off and picking up girls from the lap of luxury instead of the equivalent of a haunted house.

You stayed quiet in the backseat. You’d forgotten one of your socks.

You were hurried into the back door. Men and other girls moving around chaotically..

Someone grabbed your upper arm and yanked you roughly into a side room.

“At least he hasn’t fucked up your face,” Marcus said, holding your chin and moving your head around roughly. Despite being the reason you were in this situation he was still aggressively possessive of you. Hands clenched in fists whenever he saw you head to a client’s. “Whatever you did, Arno’s pissed. Expected to see you with broken teeth when you got back. ” 

“I…I didn’t do anything. He said he wanted to see me again.” You didn’t know his actual name. Kolya had to have been a diminutive of something but you didn’t know enough Russian to guess. He ripped the letter from your hands. He had sealed it with wax. Funny honestly. Probably knew that every man in this building was itching to climb over another for an extra dollar. 

“Let’s find out for sure, then.”

He dragged you down the hall in a bruising grip. 

“Arno! The Fixer’s bitch is back!” He knocked on the office door.

“Marcus, stop!” You hissed. You didn’t want to be in a room with Arno during one of his bad moods especially not if Marcus was intent on making it worse. 

The door opened. Arno barely scraped six feet tall but he was thin with a square jaw and blue eyes that always seemed blown out. It was no secret he had a nasty coke habit. He always looked a little strung out, a little manic. 

“There she is. ” He hung onto the frame of the door, looking over you and Marcus. He always seemed surprised to see you, like he forgot he’d imprisoned you. He grabbed the front of your coat and pulled you into the office with Marcus at your heels. 

You were shoved onto the couch in the office. Marcus sitting next to you with an arm around your shoulders, holding you against him.

Arno sat on his desk, seething.

“You know what Nikolai said to me today?”

“I don’t know.” You answered meekly, wringing your hands in your lap.

“He’s fucking giving me orders now. Said you weren’t allowed to fuck anyone twenty four hours before going to visit him.” Arno let out an incredulous laugh and threw his hands into the air. 

“He didn’t say anything to me.” You tried to assure. You never rocked the boat, just held onto your oar and hoped your life preserver worked. Marcus grabbed your arm roughly, almost pulling you into his lap. 

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re trying to milk him for everything. You suck his cock extra good? He’s sweet on you now?” Marcus laughed and pulled on your cheek. “Maybe I’ll send you back to him with my cum dripping out of you. How do you like that?”

“I didn’t ask for that.” You pleaded, looking at Arno desperately for some relief from Marcus’s taunts.

“He’s fucking with me,” Arno sighed, rubbing his face harshly. “He’s fucking fucking with me!”

He angrily slapped the lamp off his desk, sending it shattering against the wall. You leaned back against the couch. You had to get out of this room. 

Marcus released you and leaned back on the couch. “Just don’t send her back. What’s the old cunt going to do?”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Marcus.” Arno glared. You bit your tongue to hold back a laugh. “You know I can’t do that. We need his money. That’s why he’s fucking with us. Probably doesn’t even like her that much.”

“Hear that? Don’t get attached.” Marcus pulled on your cheek again. “Nikolai will dump you in a ditch soon enough. Right, Arno?”

He stared at you, blinking slowly, his brow furrowing in anger. He must have forgotten you were there. His brain barely making connections with his own eyes. 

“Get her out of here, Marcus! What the fuck is she even doing here!” Marcus jumped up and pulled you with him. “She shouldn’t be hearing any of this!”

“Sorry. You know how these sluts are. Nosey cunts” He shoved you out of the office, growling close to your face, “Wait for me in my office.”

His ‘office’ was a storage closet with an old desk in it. The door was slammed in your face. He was going to punish you for his own humiliation.  

Through your coat you felt the notes. You would get out of here. You would be your best for Nikolai. He would keep paying you and you’d get out of here. Get on a plane and never be seen again. You were getting out.  

[youwouldntdownloadapizza]

The Pleasures of The Unknown | Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka Experience 2024)

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

When Kate Middleton mistakenly ends up at a magical chocolate factory in Glasgow, she finds herself drawn to a mysterious cloaked figure with a penchant for dark chocolate.

pairing: Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka 2024)

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.2k

tags: crack, crack treated seriously, crack fic, smut, mild smut, finger sucking, chocolate, sex and chocolate, light BDSM, choking, thigh riding, rpf, bald harry styles, balddry, infidelity, glasgow, willy wonka experience - freeform, glasgow willy wonka - freeform, Balmoral, british royal family, unhinged innuendo

chapter warnings: smut, infidelity

Kate Middleton stared at her bangs in the Buckingham Palace bathroom mirror.

"I can't go out like this," she complained to William. "The Sun will rip me a new one!"

"Kate, my dear," he kissed her on the cheek, turning to lean against the counter. She continued tugging at her botched fringe until he took her hand. "It's just hair. It'll grow back."

"That's rich, coming from you."

William looked down at his royal bunny slippers with a frown. Even they had more hair than he did. Perhaps he should have them fashioned into a wig. He'd have to ask his frenemy, Harry Styles, for wigmaker recommendations.

"I don't know what to do." Kate looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes. He wiped them away with his royal hanky.

"I do," he smiled. Sliding his hand into his back pocket, he produced the royal AmEx.

"Take a holiday, Kate. Go to Balmoral or Hollyrood for a few weeks. Grow them out. Maybe even get that BBL you've been talking about getting. Scotland is a great place to recover from surgery. What with all the free healthcare and all, innit?" he said Britishly.

"You're so right, William. I'll leave first thing tomorrow."

---

Kate double-checked the address her husband had given her as she stepped out of her royal Uber Black.

"This can't be the right place. Balmoral was never this colorful!"

The cabbie rolled down his window. "Don't worry, ma'am, this is Willy's place! Be quick and get inside, it's looking like rain."

With a soft 'innit', the driver pulled away, and Kate was left on Willy's doorstep.

She assumed 'Willy' was short for her husband 'William', but as she entered the foyer, she began to have her doubts. The place appeared to be some sort of magical chocolate factory.

Although sparsely decorated, the place maintained some air of whimsy. Well, less of an air, more of a spritz, but clamato, clamato.

"Soo la voo," Kate shrugged, walking beneath the sparkly, styrofoam rainbow and towards whatever fate awaited her here.

"Ahh, more guests! Welcome!" A depressed-looking woman in a green wig approached her.

"Here, compliments of Willy," she said, sliding a plastic cup containing a splash of what appeared to be sparkling lemonade into Kate's left hand. Into her right went a single jelly bean.

"What is this?" Kate asked.

"Our welcome gift to you! And only $40, such a deal."

Kate supposed $40 was a fair price for such splendor. After all, if bananas were $10, this was surely worth four times that. She popped the jelly bean and washed it down with the lemonade.

"Carry on down the hallway. Your future awaits."

Kate left her luggage and her empty cup with the so-called Oompa Loompa and proceeded down the bare linoleum hallway. That uncanny-valley candy landscape tapestry really ties the place together, she mused.

A voice greeted her at the end of the hall.

"What. Is. That?" A blonde man in a red top hat and coattails pointed towards an unassuming mirror.

Why, that's me! Kate Middleton! Kate Middleton thought to herself.

Kate nearly leaped out of her skin when the creature emerged from behind the looking glass.

"It's...THE UNKNOWN!!"

That's when Kate fainted.

When she awoke, her head was spinning. "Where am I?" She asked to the blackness that surrounded her.

A deep voice answered her. "You're in the walls. This is my home. My own dark chocolate factory."

"Your what?" Kate asked.

As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a small bedroom combined with a confectionary workspace, almost a studio apartment of sorts.

"My dark chocolate factory. You see, Willy Wonka seeks only to pump this world full of river-churned, high-fructose, milky delicious bullshit. What I aim to create is something far more sophisticated. Far more complex. And far, far darker."

"Oh? Might I try some?"

"Why of course," the silver-masked, black-hooded creature pulled back its sleeve to reveal long, nimble fingers.

He crossed to his chocolate worktable and dipped his index and middle fingers into a whirring chocolate fountain. The creature stalked towards her, extending the sample.

Kate leaned towards him, but froze. "Before I suck on your fingers, I should probably know your name."

The creature angled his head, as if considering her. "I have no name. I am only...The Unknown."

Kate's heart raced in her chest. That chocolate, those fingers, it all looked simply divine. And if William could be unfaithful, why couldn't she do the same? She deserved it, just this once. As a treat.

She opened her mouth, and The Unknown slid his fingers past her lips. She sucked deeply, the flavor sliding across her tongue and down her throat, the complex flavor and intensity of the delivery method sending shivers down her spine.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"A bit," Kate admitted.

"Well then," she could hear the smirk in his voice even if she couldn't see it on his face. "Perhaps I'll have to warm you up myself."

Kate bit her lip. "Would you...put your willy? In my chocolate factory?"

His fingers closed around her throat. She drew a sharp breath.

She could feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, "Forget willies. Forget chocolate factories. Allow yourself to submit, to embrace the pleasures of The Unknown."

Kate let out a shuddering breath as she gazed up at that shiny mask. She didn't know what lurked behind it. She didn't care.

She kissed him then, the plastic of his mask hard against her soft lips. And then she was sprawled on the bed, his knee between her legs, and she was grinding against him.

"Oh, The Unknown!" She moaned.

"Please, there's no need for formality. Call me The."

So Kate did. She sounded like the gilded first word of a sponge's term paper as she wailed his name over and over again, into the dark stillness of this secret room behind the walls.

"I'm close," Kate moaned.

"Good girl."

He leaned down to kiss at her neck. The rough edges of the cheap mask scratched at her sensitive skin, but she didn't care. She was lost in the pleasures of The Unknown.

It was the hair that brought her to the edge, something her husband could never give her. The chemical scent of his cheap, black wig filled her nostrils as she rode his thigh, dangling there on the precipice.

"Ohh!" Kate screamed as she came, her thighs shaking with pleasure as she clenched around nothing.

A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled at her throat, and she swooned. After all these years of marriage, William had never rocked her world like this masked stranger just had. As they lay there together, she slipped into the chocolatey darkness of slumber, utterly content.

---

When Kate returned home, butt bigger and bangs longer, William had wanted to hear about her experience in Scotland.

"What was your favorite part?" He asked.

"I learned a lot about myself on this trip," she told him. "But the most valuable lesson was in learning to embrace the pleasures of the unknown."

"See, a little uncertainty is good sometimes!" He teased, tugging on her much-improved bangs before giving her a soft kiss.

"Mm," he smacked his lips. "Tastes like chocolate."

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter One

Summary: Life didn't turn out the way you wanted. You got the guy, and the job but everything else you had ever wanted has been crumbling around you. Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 2.1k~ Warnings: yändere, manipulation, domestic violence, self harm, cheating, explicit language, hints at smut, angst, idk what else lol a/n: Ahh thank you so much for all of the love so far on the intro and even all the notes on the masterlist hehe. I'm really loving the direction this story is going in so I hope you guys will too! And thanks again to @kkusadmirer for the request!

Opening my laptop I pull up the most recent edit I had done on the next chapter I was working on. 

I'm a writer, not an incredibly famous one but a writer nonetheless. I make enough to get by and I'm able to work from home so that's all I ever really wanted. Just a silly girl, writing her silly stories, living her silly life. 

But unfortunately things don't always turn out the way you want them to. 

I thought I had it all, perfect grades and a perfect boyfriend with a loving family and a bright bright future. Now looking back at it all and seeing all of the stuff in the background that I somehow missed just makes me feel foolish.

How could I not notice Taehyung wondering eye? Why did I not listen to what my friends used to say about him? Why did I leave all of my friends behind for him? 

Being so wrapped up and so in love with him I didn't even notice the fact that my family was falling apart. My mom cheated on my dad and I never knew until they told me they were getting a divorce.

While my brother was struggling in high school while being around all of their screaming and fighting and finally got committed to a mental institution when he had a psychotic break.

I never knew anything about that. It's not like I didn't care, but I just never really reached out or gave them enough time to reach out to me. 

I was always like 'Oh Tae just got home I have to go' or 'Tae is expecting me so I need to get going'. My world has revolved around him for so long that my family and friends feel like strangers. 

How could I have been so stupid and neglected them, all for one guy?

The one that I wanted to build a future with and promised to do the same with me. Now here I am, 24 with student loans up to my neck and a sorry excuse for a marriage with a husband that is never home. 

I don't know what I managed to do in my past life that ended up royally fucking me up in this one but I'm sorry. Why couldn't I have done better so I would be saved from having my spirit broken and my heart ripped to shreds. 

The only positive thing is that this has given me is the inspiration to come up with an even more fucked up series of books that has been my only source of income for the past few years. 

Years, wow. 

Thinking about how much time has passed and how things went to shit so quickly helped me continue down this downward spiral and I don't know how to make it stop. Although the sound of keys jingling outside the front door is my rude awakening, my brain knowing I need to be conscious of what may happen next.

 I quickly wipe off the tears that I didn't even realized had started to fall and clear my throat. Moments later I'm met with the sight of Taehyung walking in wearing the same shirt I had seen him in yesterday but sports a brand new hickey near the collar, just barely noticeable but he makes no effort to hide it. 

"Y/n" I hear him call out, breaking me out of my train of thought. "Yes?" I question, hating that I've been caught off guard even though I was staring right at him. "I asked if we have anything to eat" he says, making his way over to the refrigerator, now going to see if he can answer his own question before I'm even given another second to speak up. 

"Um yeah I think there's some left over pizza from last night" I say and get up to walk towards him. "So how was work yesterday?" I ask tentatively, still not sure what kind of mood he's in. "Exhausting but it is what it is I guess" he says while stuffing his face full of a cold slice of pepperoni pizza. 

I turn to walk away while nodding my head, not bothering to ask anything else since it seems from his vague answers that he's not in the mood to talk. 

"Hey" he says, gently grabbing my wrist with the hand that wasn't occupied with the pizza, leaving me frozen in place. I know better than to walk away from him. Even if he's not mad at the moment doesn't mean that he won't be in the next. 

"Where are you running off to?" he asks pulling me close by that same wrist. Still doing so carefully but pressing on the bruises that he had left there from the last fight we had. 

He sees my slight look of discomfort and how my vision is trained on the wrist he's still holding and rolls up my sleeve, taking a quick look and seeing the evidence of his past transgressions.

"It left a mark huh?" he says examining the spot further and then bringing it up to his face where he places a few featherlight kisses on it, making a flash of heat run through my system when he looks back up at me with those eyes.

Those bedroom eyes that never fail to put me in a trance. He lifts his hand up towards my face and I flinch not knowing what to expect and see him stopping for a second, surprised by my reaction.

"Don't be afraid baby, it's just me" he says and keeps going, hooking his finger on the collar of my turtleneck to pull it to the side, no doubt searching for other marks. 

"There's marks here too. I guess it's a good thing you stay home. Don't want to have to make up excuses for those now would you?" he says tapping under my chin twice, a slight lilt in his tone, enjoying my clear discomfort in showing them to someone, even if it's the person that's caused them.

"What did you do today baby?" he asks, letting go of me and going back to grab a few other things out of the fridge to complete his meal. "Oh you know, just some writing" I say, trailing off and giving him the same answer that I've given him time and time again. 

"You almost done with it?" he questions, only really asking so he knows when my next big payday will be. 

I shake my head "No, not yet. I think I'm only about halfway though" I say, giving simple answers to his simple questions. "Well you better get it out soon. I bet your readers are dying to know what happens next" he says giving me a quick wink before taking everything he has in his hands and carrying it over to the couch. 

"Do you think you could grab me a beer?" he asks, but I know it's more of a courtesy than anything phrasing it like I actually had an option. I respond with a quiet yeah and bring it over to him, placing it on the coffee table. 

"Thanks babe" he says and grabs a ahold of my hand and angles his head up, clearly asking for a kiss to which I oblige. Again something I don't really have an option in doing. "I missed you" he says and rubs his nose against mine cutely, or at least it used to be cute. Now it just makes me sad thinking of all of those times when we were happy.

"Are you gonna watch the game with me?" this time giving me something that I actually have a choice in. "I think I've got some more writing I'd like to do" I say and he nods his head not even bothering to look at me or give me a verbal sign of acknowledgment before turning on said game and slumping back into the couch to watch. 

I walk over to my desk that happens to unfortunately be in the living room so I'm forced to grab my headphones to drown out the sound so I can hopefully get another chapter or two in before I call it a night. 

~~~~~~

"Baby" I hear him call for me through my headphones after some time, that's something that I've had to fine tune. Making sure I can hear him when he talks to me no matter what so it's one less thing I have to worry about him getting upset about. 

I pull out my headphones and turn my attention towards him, half expecting him to ask me to get him a beer. "Yes?" I reply, waiting to see what he needs. "Come here" he says holding his hand out to me and spreading his legs, showing me where he wants me. 

I get up and walk towards him, straddling him once I get close enough and putting my arms around his neck. "Hi" he says in a deep voice sending a shockwave through my nervous system. "Hi" I respond quietly, intimidated at the thought of what he might do next. "How was the game?" I ask tentatively, hoping for my own sake that there was a favorable result. 

"We won" he says, mindlessly tracing his hands up and down my curves. "How's your book?" he asks leaning into my neck, placing kisses over the bruises he had noticed from before. "

It's going" I whisper, starting to feel breathless from his warm breath fanning the sensitive parts of my skin. "Ready for a break?" he asks, question laced with a mischievous tone. I hum in acknowledgment, tilting my head to the side so he can have his fun.

~~~~~~

"I'm gonna head out but I'll be back later" Taehyung says while getting dressed with me still laying there with only a sheet to cover my body. "You're leaving?" I question, knowing he just said that but hoping he'll give me some sort of explanation.

"The guys wanted to meet up for a couple of drinks to talk about the game. Get some rest okay? I'll be back in a few hours" he says planting a soft kiss on my lips and one on my forehead. 

I nod as he pulls the comforter over me as well, starting to already to drift off to sleep. "Stay safe" I mumble and flip over to the other side to try and get more comfortable.

He looks down at me for a second and chuckles at my fucked out and sleepy state before walking out of our bedroom and soon I'm left with the sound of him closing and locking the door behind him. 

Although this night was bittersweet I'm thankful that it ended up like this. He's not a selfish lover when it comes to sex so I'm always left sleepy and satisfied except for the times that he's more rough, rough is putting it lightly so I guess I should say when he's more violent. 

I hate thinking about those nights and I refuse to let those dark thoughts cloud this physical euphoric feeling I have but I can't help but worry about what he might actually be going out to do.

 Would having a drink with the guys really make him want to leave his naked and freshly fucked wife alone in his bed? I just don't get it. If he's already been with me tonight could there be a possibility that he would wake up in another woman's bed and leave me waking up alone again tomorrow?

There's no use worrying about it though. It's not like it hasn't happened before, but why do I always let it get to me? Yes he's my husband but our marriage isn't like other ones in anyway shape or form. I'm here when he wants or needs me and that's it. I'm not allowed to want or need him because I'm just left disappointed every single time.

He doesn't love me, he just loves what I can give him and I need to come to terms with that. But it's nights like these where he's gentle and whispers sweet nothings in my ear that make me second guess things. 

Maybe he's changed? Maybe he's realized what actually matters? And maybe I'm just getting my hopes up. I can't keep lying to myself but I don't know what else to do. I feel alone most days but these little glimmers of hope are what keep me holding on and unfortunately that's all I have left. 

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[one-piece-aus]

Unbottle Your Emotions

Eustass Kid x Reader (Part 6)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Taglist: @lingxio @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @lil-skelly-bones (ask or comment if you want to be added)

Ahoy! This has been a fun chapter to write! A few important characters are introduced in this chapter and emotions are building up in [Y/n]. For a little context, Koby is living in the Monkey household because I said so :3

Enjoy ^-^

"He's going to kill me, Hawkins."

You worried as you strolled through the halls with your fellow loner. The poor textbooks were suffocating from your tight grip.

"Who is going to kill you?" Hawkins inquired for clarification.

"Eustass." You eye the hallway for any of Kid's crew. Only when you noted no signs did you turn your back as you reached your locker and opened it.

"Don't you think you're being overdramatic, [Y/n]?" It's rare for Hawkins to brush off your worry, but it only happens if he already read the cards.

"No, I'm not. I might know how to avoid ticking him off with words but actions are an unpredictable minefield, and I might have set one off." You stressed taking your backpack out of your locker and shoving your books inside.

"Why don't you just ask-?"

"I can't ask him!" Your words straining through your teeth, looking at Hawkins as if he suggested you should spoil the ending to a popular franchise to a bunch of die hard fans. "Because if he wasn't mad before then he will be since I planted that idea in his head. I'll be dead either way."

"I was going to suggest asking his friends..."

"Oh..." You turn back to your locker and grab your binders to put them in your backpack. "I don't know about that either..."

"My club starts in 5 minutes, I believe Heat and Wire will be there, if you'd like, I could inquire for you," Hawkins offered.

"Really?"

"But you're coming over tonight to practice your math."

"What? Nooooooo, come on. Can't it be for lunch tomorrow?" You pouted.

"It can't be helped, remember? Your family only allows you to go out if it's for homework."

Your face grims. "That's right." 

Thing is, it's more complicated than that.

"I'll let you know when I'm home, try to remain calm until then." Hawkins rested a hand on your shoulder.

"I'll try."

With that Hawkins takes his leave.

A sigh escapes as you finish packing your bag, mind filled with dread. Closing your locker door, you turn to head off when you see Law two lockers over, closing his locker. He notices you and smirks.

Fuck. Your cheeks start burning as you know exactly why he has the smug look. Bastard won't let you live down your embarrassment from two years ago. You face your locker, ignoring him. He seems to get the message and walks away. Once you're sure he's gone, you hit your head against the locker. Sadly it does nothing to shoo the memory of what happened in gym class. Great now your face is heating up more. Why did that have to be the reason he knows you exist?

"Stupid dodgeball!" You kick the locker next to yours. "Stupid teammates!" Another kick. You're at least grateful no one else witnessed it since it only happened early game, and Trafalgar hasn't bothered spreading rumours about it, not that it'd do any good in school since no one knows who the invisible kid is. However, you had a feeling, he would use it as blackmail over you if he knew how.

Gripping the straps of your backpack, you exit the hallway. Most students have disappeared to their clubs or already left the building, you take extra precautions sneaking around now that you have no cover. Your hand finally reaches the exit doors, opens it and you step outside.

"Hi [L/n]."

"AHH!" You jump out of your skin, startling the boy who greeted you. Your eyes flicker to him, calming down. "Oh, it's just you Koby."

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He bashfully scratches the back of his neck.

"Just don't do it again." You subtly place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart rate return to normal. "What are you doing right next to the doors anyway?"

"Drake said these are the doors you normally use," Koby explained, you gave him a weird look and for a moment you thought he was going to bring up seeing you with Kid at lunch, until he elaborated. "I wanted to walk home with him so he told me to wait with you."

"Oh? So that's all?" You double-check, raising a brow. He nods, so you gesture for him to follow you. "You know my dad doesn't like Strawhat's grandpa, it might be a problem if I walk home with you."

"It's alright, we'll be stopping by my house first so you and Drake don't get in trouble."

"Right." Your voice becoming monotone.

A moment passes as you stop at the meetup tree, Koby looks up at you, worry written on his expression. "...You seemed to be on edge earlier."

"I'm always on edge," you blatantly reply. "Most people just don't realize or scare me like that."

"Sorry..." Koby looks away, seemingly dropping the subject.

Guilt nips at your heart, you don't want to make him feel bad. Though as much as your conscience yells at you to comfort him, you don't. It may be selfish but if Koby associates you with this feeling after greeting you, he's more likely to ignore and avoid you. It'll help prevent future eggshells from being broken and getting you in trouble, so you hope.

A notification from your phone goes off. You grab your device, turning it on to see who it is.

New Message from [Leader Eustass Kid]

You were about to open your phone to read it when you noticed Koby perk up.

"Hey Drake!" Koby greeted his friend.

"Hey Koby, [Y/n]." Drake nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hey..." You briefly wave.

There's a bit of an awkward silence, Drake staring at you as if wanting to ask how your day was and you avoiding eye contact, not wanting to interact with him. You began walking, Drake and Koby following in tow. Koby begins rambling about something Luffy has done. You're grateful Koby came along now, Drake's attention is on him and not you. 

With room to breathe, you pulled out your phone and checked Kid's message.

[Leader Eustass Kid]

Where were you at the end of lunch?

Crap, he did notice you disappearing. Not good. Should you make a likely excuse? ...No, you have a feeling he'd know a bullshit excuse when he sees one. Just keep it brief.

[You]

I left

Lunch was over so I left

. . .

Your eyes anxiously stare at the loading dots, his response being typed. Fingers tapping to the rhythm of the flow. Fear sits on your shoulder to watch the screen.

[Leader Eustass Kid]

Say something before you leave next time

Right, he'll be inviting you again when your project's over. Reminder aside, you can't tell the emotion behind his text. Whether he's mad or letting it go, you'll only know when you go over to Hawkins tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Koby! No club today?" Garp asked welcoming the pink-haired boy home.

"Nope, the club president had to plan some things for next week so I got to walk home with Drake today," Koby chirped entering the house.

"Great it's lasagna night. You can help out with the cooking."

"Yes sir." Koby turned to you and Drake who were standing outside. "Thanks for walking with me, guys. See ya tomorrow!"

"See ya, Koby," Drake said. You just waved bye until Koby disappeared from the doorway.

Garp turned to the two of you. "Do you guys want to stay for dinner?"

Drake shook his head. "I have to work tonight."

"I need to get home before it gets too late," you decline chewing the inside of your mouth, wanting to leave already. "Also I don't know anyone here."

"Nonsense, you're friends of Koby, and I'm sure my other grandsons would be happy to have more guests."

"More guests?" Drake raised a brow.

"Yeah, Ace has his friend over-" Garp explanation got cut off when there was a crash in the background. "THE HELL DID YOU BREAK THIS TIME?"

"oH NO! RUN YAMATO!" Ace warned.

Garp left the doorway, off to scold the boys. Drake narrows his eyes and goes to enter the house when you stop him, a tight grip on his sleeve. Drake looks back to you, your face is neutral yet your hand is shaking.

"Can we leave?" A small demand.

Drake doesn't say anything, glancing from you to the house. You could hear something fall over and it causes you to flinch. Drake looks back at you, sighs and starts walking. Internally, you thank him as you release your grip on his sleeve. Your stroll is silent for the most part until Drake inquires you.

"Who were you texting early?"

"...Hawkins," you lie. "I'm going over to his place tonight to practice my math. My dad won't tolerate anything but the best."

Drake hums, believing your lie sprinkled with truth. It wouldn't be the first night you'd go study with Hawkins, and as for texting others, he knows just how small your contact list is. It pays to be known as a ghost amongst those who do know the invisible kid.

You'll have to change Kid's contact name, you can't risk getting caught. It's fine if Hawkins knows you're talking to Kid, you trust him, but not Drake.

The two of you near the front door of your home, you unlock it and enter inside. You glance around, seeing your father's workers frantically running around, too busy to greet you. Good, your brother's antics made you invisible.

"I'll go inform your father where your brother is," Drake told you as he took off his shoes. "They're probably wondering where he snuck off to. You can let one of your uncles know you'll be studying at Hawkins tonight. We don't want them thinking their other child snuck out later."

"Right..." You slipped off your shoes, observing Drake leaving to inform your dad.

You're thankful to your brother, yet at the same time, you wish he put more thought into his actions. There were consequences, and it affected more than him.

[mastermindmiko]

Hi! Could please write more ron Weasley fluff with a little bit of angst, it could literally be abt anything<3

Charcoal pancakes and confessions

Hey! sorry that this is a bit late, but none the less, here it is.

Pairing: Ron Weasley + Reader word count: 1393 Trigger warnings: Sexual innuendos, and that's it I believe, but lmk. Summary: You and Ron spend time together at the Burrow without anymore and it gives you a glimpse of what you would want it to be like in the future.

a/n: once again doing the summary rhyming thing at the beginning of the chapter (calling it poetry would be an insult to poetry) lmk if I should scrap the idea, I do however think that it's pretty cute

Give me a day or two to spend within your arms, to show you that I’m all that you need. We can play pretend and just make believe with you by my side and your arms around me. We can foresee the future as I need it to be, with you by my side and our house under my feet. I know you’re not sure yet about you and me, but I need you to see that I could be your home, if not the one you want then the one that you need. 

I wake up to the smell of something burning, and a few shouts. I can hear many curses as I wake up. I sit up, and go to stand up, immediately noticing the ache in between my legs. A shiver runs up my body and I reach for the clothes that are scattered under the floor. Putting on only what’s necessary. 

The curses and shouts get louder as I walk down the stairs to where Ron is creating a mess in the kitchen. A fire is brewing underneath the pan, as a few lumpy black objects fuel it like coal. I grab my wand and wave a spell that reduces the fire to a small amount, then I grab a small glass of water and spill its contents till the fire is gone. I chuckle at the mess that the kitchen’s in, “What exactly were you trying to do?” 

“Pancakes.” He says and then he walks over to wrap his arms around me. He sets his chin on my shoulder and I place my hands above his over my stomach. He twirls me around causing a quick giggle to leave my throat. He grins down at me and he pulls me by my arm, having me tripping over my feet into his chest to give me a kiss. I say, “You didn’t have to.” 

“Of course I did…” He trails off then scans my body noticing the fabric that’s foreign to my skin but not his. He continues, “Especially when you look so good in my clothes.” 

“Ahh, you’re exaggerating.” I tease him, and he pulls me closer to his chest once more. I can smell his shampoo and lotion, making him even more heavenly to me. His face turns into a faux serious and he says, “Not at all, you’re completely breathtaking.” 

I loved days like this when his family all left the Burrow to attend to their business and Ron would invite me over. I’d imagine that is what it would be like if we were together and maybe even sharing a house. He pecks my lips and then whispers, “You feeling alright? Your legs okay?” 

“Mhm…” I say against his lips, and he grins, already reaching a hand down to cup my ass. He says, “That’s good cause we’re gonna do it again tonight.” 

“Not tonight, your parents are coming back.” I inform him, as I step away from his grasp and throw the bricks that he calls pancakes away. He frowns, and his arms fall to his sides as I slip away. He says, “They’re coming back the twenty third.” 

“Yes, and look at the calendar.” I say, and he looks back to where the calendar hangs. His mouth drops as he notices the number twenty three written in large numbers. He slumps down and sighs, “I thought we had another day…”

“It’s alright, there’ll be other times.” I tell him trying to brighten his mood. I motion for him to bring me a few eggs as I crack them over the already hot pan from Ron’s failed pancake attempts. He wraps his hands around me once more. He presses a kiss to my shoulder, and he trails up till he’s at my ear. I shiver and he says, “We’ll have to make the most of the next few hours then.” 

“I really wish I could, but I have to start packing.” I remind him and move aside so Ron can put the eggs on the plates and set them on the table. He already brought forks and knives for us to use on the table. He questions, “What will you be packing for?” 

“Your parents are coming back tonight, and your family will be visiting, as well as some other friends…” I trail off hoping he would get the idea without me having to spell it out for him. He just looks at me confused when he’s already eaten nearly half of his eggs. His head tilts to the side and my heart clenches at just how much I love it when he does that.

“We’re not going to be alone here anymore, Ron.” 

“So? My parents love you.” Ron tells me and I roll my eyes, and move the eggs around on my plate. I hint at it once more, “They’re not the problem, Ron.” 

“Is it the sex? Because I’m sure we can find somewhere to do it-” 

“Hermione’s going to be there, Ron.” I say, and his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. He nods his head a couple times while I look down at my food. I put a piece of it in my mouth and chew slowly. He looks down understandably till he perks up again. He looks at me, eyebrows furrowed. He asks, “Wait, why’s that a problem?”

I sigh and I look at him, trying to see if he’s joking or not. He does look confused, he’s always been an idiot when it comes to matters of the heart. I look away and push the scrambled eggs around with my fork before whispering, “I don’t want everyone to know that I’m the girl you’re with until Hermione can be with you.” 

“I don’t understand.” Ron asks, and my chest burns with the reminder of what we have or lack thereof. He places a hand on my knee in support and I suck in a breath before telling him, “I don’t want everyone to know that you’re only just with me until you can be with Hermione because everyone knows that you want her and not me.” 

“I don’t get what you mean.” 

“Ron, stop acting like that. I know that you want Hermione, you’ve wanted her for years now, and I’m just a placeholder. We’ve been at this for almost two years now, and never once have you ever said that I was your girlfriend, you’ve never even told me you liked me…” I burst, and I can see his fallen expression.

“Is that what you think?” Ron asks, and I don’t reply, just opt to look at my feet instead. He reaches his hand out to turn my face towards him. A teardrop falls, and I shut my eyes at how stupid I feel. He brushes it away with his thumb. He says, “I want to be your boyfriend, I wasn’t sure if you wanted more, I didn’t want to pressure you with anything, especially since you always seemed very content with what we’ve got.” 

“Well, I’m a great actor.” I chuckle, and he grins at me. He reaches out to hold my hand that’s in my lap. He rubs smooth circles over my hand and he looks at my eyes then flushes. He says, “And I always thought it was pretty obvious.” 

“What is?” 

“That I’m in love with you.” He confesses and my heart lurches to my throat. I search and scan for answers in his eyes for any sort of lie or uncertainty, but he was just smiling at me. He chuckles, “Merlin, I’ve even been thinking about a ring design.” 

My heart thumps against my chest, and I blush. He reaches over to plant a lovely kiss on the back of my hand then the other. He kissed one cheek then the next, and finally landed on my lips. He sighs, “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier.” 

“I shouldn’t have assumed either…you were pretty heartbroken when you broke up with her.” I explained, recalling how he would send me a letter in the middle of the night asking me to meet him where he would talk my ear off about so many things just because he felt so lonely after she left him. Ron asks, “Do you know why Hermione broke up with me?” 

“No.” 

“It’s because even she realised that my heart belongs to you.”

a/n: Hope you liked it!