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[honeyedmiller]

Mr. Bakery Man

baker!joel miller x f!reader

rating: none

synopsis: it’s not every day you get to move from nyc to austin for your job and relish in a pleasant change of pace. it’s also not every day that you discover a cute family owned bakery in the heart of austin—and it’s definitely not every day that you meet the owner and fall head over heels for him.

warnings: this is pure, innocent tooth-rotting fluff ; fun flirting, we’ll call this one a hallmark type beat lol, sarah and ellie are both in this, joel is down bad in this (but so is reader), no use of y/n.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this was supposed to be for @punkshort’s au writing challenge but i’m hella late on it. life has been crazy lately, but thanks for sticking with me during my unintentional hiatus 🤍

Moving from New York City to Austin Texas had been an oddity in life’s recent escapades. 

Your job had asked if anyone in your department was willing to do the big move because the office in Austin needed a strong journalist on their growing team. With the rest of your colleagues having kids and spouses, nobody was interested in uprooting their whole life to move to a completely different state. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to get out of New York. You yearned for new opportunities, and when this one arose, you didn’t hesitate to tell your boss you were interested. 

You’d been slowly settling into Austin, getting used to life in another city with a completely different atmosphere. You were grateful your new colleagues were all very nice and welcoming. 

The one thing you’d say you missed dearly back in New York City, though, was this amazing bakery off of Fifth you’d frequent before work. Their coffee and croissants were delicious, which is what led you to go on a Google hunt to see what bakeries were good around here in Austin. 

One caught your eye immediately—Sarah & Ellie’s— with five star reviews and multiple photos of all the sweets they had to offer. It was a cozy little café and bakery mixed into one with a homey, warm vibe and cute decorations. You mapped it to see how long it would take you to get to the place, and to your luck, it was only a ten minute walk from your apartment complex. So, you decided you were going to go first thing in the morning before work. 

And for some reason, you felt excited to try a new place. Maybe it was a sign of finally getting used to living in a completely different state, fifteen hundred miles away from your old life. 

You luckily got used to being an early riser, so once morning had rolled around, you were up n’ at ‘em by six thirty. You left your house around seven, making your way down to Sarah & Ellie’s. 

The shop felt more homey than it looked online. As soon as you stepped in, there was already a short line of customers and a waft of delicious baked goods and coffee that filled your senses. You suddenly yearned for a home you’d never even been to. 

You stood in line and observed the menu, deciding on sticking with a classic chocolate croissant and latte for the time being. You wanted to see if this place held a candle up to the place off of Fifth. 

The older gentleman in front of you greeted the cashier with a bright smile, and she immediately typed in an order. 

“Hey Randy, how’s it going?” 

“Hey sweet pea. Just here for my usual mornin’ coffee and danish,” he says, handing the girl a ten dollar bill. She counts out the change and closes the register with her hip before returning his beaming smile to him. “Tell your old man to stop workin’ so damn hard. Cheryl says I need to lay off the sweets once in a while, but I can’t do that if all his baked goods are too delicious to resist.” Randy pats his stomach with a satisfied hum, and the girl laughs. 

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Have a good one!” 

After she waves him off, she locks eyes with you and gives you the same beaming smile as you stepped up to the register. 

“What can I get ya, Miss?” she asks, tone cheery and light. 

“I’ll take a chocolate croissant and a latte, please.” 

She nods and rings in your order, grabbing a cup to write your name on it. 

“Not to intrude or anything, but are you new ‘round here?” Her tone is still light, laced with pure curiosity as the sharpie pen hovers over the latte cup. 

You gave her a smile and nodded meekly, “I am.” 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sarah.” 

You give her your name and her smile never wavers, scribbling your name on the cup. 

“Let me get that chocolate croissant for you—” she started, but was accidentally cut off by a man opening the door that separated the front of the café from the back. 

“Hey babydoll, do we have anymore—” the man stops abruptly, eyes landing on you. A black apron adorned his clearly thick and strong physique, flour dusted on his hands and arms. He was tall, and had a sweet glint in his brown eyes that made warmth flood your whole body. He had a head full of thick brown curls with grays strewn in here and there, and the mustache along with the stubble on his chin mirrored the streaks in his hair.

He instantly gave off a charming aura, and when he smiled at you, you were a goner. 

“Hello Miss. Don’t think we’ve ever met before,” he says, dusting his hands off on the apron before extending one to you. His Southern accent dripped like thick, pure honey, and it made your skin burn hot. 

You couldn’t hold back your smile when you reached your hand out to shake his. It might’ve sounded cliché as hell, but the sudden surge you got from just touching him made every single cell in your body alert, yearning for more. 

“I’m new in the city,” you explain, “Just moved here not too long ago.” 

“Ah, makes sense. Think I’d remember ya even if you didn’t come in often.” 

You’re taken aback by his words. Was he… flirting? You felt your face heat, and your eyes nervously flit to the glass case full of delicious looking pastries. Well, if he was flirting, there’s no harm in doing it back… right? 

“Me coming in often depends,” you find yourself grinning like a fool, “Do your pastries taste as good as they look and smell?” 

“They’re the best in Austin,” he winks, and with that, murmurs something to Sarah before giving you one last smile before walking to the back again. 

Sarah can’t help but giggle as she hands you your croissant. “It’s on the house,” she waves her hand as you pull out your wallet, and you stop short to give her a confused look. She clocks the expression on your face and grins. “Dad said.” 

“That’s your dad?” You didn’t mean to pry, you were just taken aback. 

“Mhm. Family owned and operated bakery,” you immediately hear the pride in her voice, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ll have your latte out in a minute.” 

You grin and nod, stepping over to the other side of the counter. You decided to take a bite of your croissant while you waited for your latte, and god, it was the best pastry you think you’d ever had. The croissants on Fifth had nothing against these gooey, decadent, flaky treats. 

You nearly had to hold back a moan, and the man—Randy, you think—laughed beside you. 

“Good, ain’t they?” he asks, and you nodded expeditiously. 

“Probably the best croissant I’ve ever had.” 

Randy nods in agreement, “Miller’s the best baker in Austin. Been comin’ here since his girls were little.” 

And you finally figured that Ellie must be his other daughter. It warmed your heart that he’d name his place after his two girls, clearly his pride and joy. 

“That’s so nice,” you say, and give him a quick wave goodbye when his order is called out. 

“Hopefully I’ll see you again soon,” Randy shot you a smile before taking a sip of his drink, and you nod at him with a smile before you turn your attention to your name being called out. Sarah handed you your drink and you thanked her, taking a cautious sip. 

Even the latte was superb. You were one hundred percent sold on this place, and maybe even a little smitten with the owner. 

Yeah, you’d definitely be coming back. 

-

A month passes by before you know it, and you’re now deemed an honorable regular at Sarah & Ellie’s. You’ve met Ellie, who was a total opposite of her sister—but you loved both of their personalities all the same. You learned that Ellie was going to art school and you promised her you’d buy a commissioned piece. 

Sarah was going to school for business, studying to take over the bakery one day, and possibly even expand it as a franchise. You told her you’d be at the grand opening the day that it happens. 

As for the owner, Mr. Miller—or, Mr. Bakery Man, you teasingly called him—kept the flirting subtle but fun. You looked forward to the playful banter you two’d exchange, and it always earned a raised brow and a not-so-subtle smirk from either Sarah or Ellie. 

Unbeknownst to you, they’d tease their father about the ‘crush’ he had on the pretty regular that came in and how he should buck up and ask you on a date. 

And he planned to do just that. When you went in on a Saturday morning, you were surprised to see him working the front counter instead of one of the girls. 

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Bakery Man,” you say, and he runs a hand through his hair. 

“In the flesh,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Girls didn’t come in today?” You lean up against the counter as he grabs a latte cup, writing your name out on it. He hesitates for a moment, but continues to write on it before setting it down on the opposite countertop. 

“Nah. Sarah was up late doing homework and it’s Ellie’s turn to have Saturday off.”

You nod in understanding, pulling out your wallet. He stops you and shakes his head, and you scoff. 

“You have to let me pay, Mr. Miller. You can’t keep giving me these discounts.” 

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” his smile was shy, and he was fidgety—almost like he was scared. Right when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, he cut you off. 

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” His words were rushed, and your heart melted at how nervous he sounded. 

You paused your movements completely, meeting those warm brown eyes that made you feel so safe. 

“I’d love to,” you answered, and relief visibly washed over his features. 

“Great. I, uh, wrote my name and number on your cup. Hope you don’t mind,” he says, and you have to bite back a smile. Then you suddenly realized you never even knew this man’s first name. You’d just stuck with calling him the nickname you gave him, or by his last name. 

You took the cup from him gingerly as he finished making your drink a few minutes later, and turned it in your hand to see his name and number scrawled on the side as promised. 

Joel. 

The name fit the gorgeous man in front of you. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, and your palm landed on his insanely toned bicep with reassurance. 

He stared at you, the warmth in his eyes nearly making you weak in the knees. 

“I promise I’ll call you,” you say, giving his bicep a soft squeeze. Your hand falls to your side again before grabbing the croissant from the counter that you didn’t notice until now, and you eagerly took a bite. 

Joel wanted to laugh at the chocolate on the side of your mouth as you tilted the pastry toward him. He restrained himself from reaching up and wiping it from your mouth, but you beat him to it by using your knuckle to wipe it off. 

“Compliments to the chef.” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows. 

He couldn’t help but admire your playful side, ecstatic that you agreed to go out with him. 

“Anythin’ for you darlin’,” he said, and you left the bakery that day with a smile on your face that you couldn’t wipe. 

That night, you found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment as you chewed on your bottom lip. Your phone was clutched in your hand, keypad open and ready to dial. Your other hand had the empty coffee cup with his name and number. 

You didn’t know why you were battling this in your head. Is it weird? Is it too late to call him? No—No, it’s not weird. He’s the one who asked you out, after all. 

Fuck it. 

You sighed as you dialed the number on the cup, pressing the phone up to your ear. Within seconds, Joel’s deep voice rang through the other line. 

“Hello?” He sounded a bit tired, voice hoarse from what had to be a long day. 

“Hey Mr. Bakery Man,” you said in hopes of lifting his spirits even in the slightest. 

His deep chuckle that sounded through the receiver had a warmth blooming in your chest. Even his laugh alone made you feel good inside—like a cup of hot cocoa in your hands on a cold night while you’re in your pajamas sitting fireside. 

Did it sound kind of insane? Sure. Did you care? No. 

The feelings you’d felt toward him almost blindsided you, but something in your gut told you that Joel would be a constant in your life from here on out. 

“Hey darlin’. How’s your day been?” He asks. 

“Good, good,” you pause for a moment, “So about that date…” 

“I was thinkin’ some dinner? Friday night at seven?” 

“That’s perfect. I can’t wait.” 

-

Friday night rolled around, and Joel was kicking himself for not exactly having a plan B. For some reason, the reservations he made got mixed up and you couldn’t be seated. 

You assured him that it was okay, and that his presence was enough for you to enjoy yourself. 

You both decided to get some pasta to-go and eat your food at a park nearby. Even though you both were dressed to the nines and didn’t exactly blend in, you couldn’t care less. You were enjoying your time with him and getting to know the amazing man that he is. 

He opened up and talked about how Sarah and Ellie were both his pride and joy, how he had Sarah really young and adopted Ellie later on, how he sometimes helped his brother Tommy in the contracting business, and how he’s loved to bake in the kitchen with his mom ever since he was a young boy. 

“Didn’t really think I’d make a career out of it,” he confesses. 

“Looks like it worked out for you really well though,” you nudge his side gently. You were settled onto a bench with him then, closer to each other than anticipated. Neither of you said a word, though. 

Being by Joel’s side radiated nothing but safety and comfort. It felt natural, like you two were meant to find your way to each other. 

“Guess so. ‘S funny though. I meet new people every day because of the bakery and, forgive me ‘f this is too bold to say, but meeting you has completely thrown me off my game,” he chuckles, and you furrow your brows. 

“What do you mean?” You try not to feign hurt in your tone, but he wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you into his warm body. You’re engulfed in his scent, and you could stay here forever, you thought to yourself. 

“Don’t mean it as a bad thing, sweetheart. I mean you’ve been on my mind constantly, and truth be told, I didn’t think you’d ever agree to go on this date with me. ‘M not really one to put myself out there and go on dates, but somethin’ about you made me want to get to know ya more,” he explained, and you nodded your head in understanding. 

“I get it. I didn’t know what to expect when I moved out here. I always buried myself in work and didn’t pay much attention to dating someone, but I’d like to say this turn of events has been pleasant.” 

He can’t help but grin foolishly at your words. 

“‘M glad it worked out this way too. Y’know my girls pushed me to ask you out? Not that I didn’t want to in the first place, but ‘m… not very good at this,” he waves his hand to the side.  

You could easily picture Sarah and Ellie giving Joel a hard time, hounding him to ask you out. 

“Your girls know what’s best,” you tease, and he can’t help but let out a hearty laugh. “But you’re doing just fine, Mr. Miller. I promise.” 

“Even if I goofed and our reservation got messed up?” 

“Joel, I wouldn’t care if you took me to Whataburger for a date. It’s the company that matters,” you say, and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. 

“Where have you been all my life?” His question sounded like it was meant to be directed just to himself, but you leaned in and gave his cheek a kiss. 

“Probably in New York City,” you shrugged. 

“You and your sarcasm,” he said, shoulders shaking from laughing. 

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me out. That’s on you,” and Joel couldn’t help the pride that bloomed within his chest. 

“Sure did. What do ya say? Wanna head back to the bakery for a cup of coffee and croissant?” 

“What, like a nightcap, but sweet?” You grinned, and he nods. 

“Somethin’ like that.” 

“I’d love to.” 

Joel offered you his arm and you wrapped your hand around his bicep, staying close to him as you both walked back to his truck. 

It didn’t take long to get back to the bakery. Joel made you some coffee with creamer and sugar while he drank his black. He made you a croissant too as promised, and you couldn’t help but gush to him about how you loved his baking. You’d tried a few other things off the menu since you started coming into the shop, but the croissants were what stole your heart. 

You and him sat there for what seemed like hours just talking and getting to know each other on a deeper level. You told him about your family, your dreams and aspirations, what made you want to become a journalist, and what drove you to reach your goals. 

He loved that you were so ambitious—he didn’t come across too many people these days that seemed to know exactly what they wanted in life. You impressed him, and as he sat across from you listening to you talk about work, he knew you were the woman for him. 

He would’ve deemed himself crazy not even a few months ago for thinking such a thing, but hell, if you know you know. 

So the months passed by, and you two became inseparable.

Both of you didn’t think you’d meet someone like this, let alone someone you both could see sharing a life with. This man, all kind hearted and selfless and a big teddy bear who treated you like a goddess, was the man that swept you off your feet and made you see that work isn’t everything life had to offer. 

You took that leap of faith to move to Austin, not knowing the outcome it would have. But, you sure as hell were so glad that it happened. That this thing with Joel happened. You were decently happy with your life before you met him and let him in, but now, you felt as if you’d been on cloud nine for months. 

You were helping Joel close up the bakery one Sunday evening when he turned to you and confessed that he loved you, and he couldn’t imagine his life without you. Neither could the girls. You’d changed him for the better, even if it hadn’t even been a year of knowing each other. 

You’d said it right back to him, and with flour still lingering on his hands, he’d grabbed your face and kissed you like you were the air his lungs needed, the blood to keep his heart pumping, and his god-given solace. 

And you thought, this was exactly where you were meant to be—safe in his arms, full of love, with a whole lifetime with him to look forward to. 

He was it for you. You'd won the heart of the charming Southern gentleman—your Mr. Bakery Man. 

dividers by @saradika-graphics

p.s. sorry if this sucked i’m genuinely so rusty w writing rn. thanks for understanding <3

[cheoliehansolie]

The Hoodie

Summary: Wonwoo learns something interesting about you wearing his hoodies.

Word Count: ~2.8 k

Pairing: fem reader x Wonwoo

Warnings: Implied smut and a bit suggestive

an: I'm finally back after accidentally taking a break for a month. Thank you guys for waiting patiently <3. As always, if you liked reading this, please reblog or leave a comment. If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask and we can be friends 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist.

---

You woke up to the soft rays of sunlight filtering into your room through your blinds. Waking up to the warmth of sunlight on your cheeks had to be your favorite part of spring. Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, you shock yourself with how early you’ve woken up on a Saturday.

Normally you’re one to sleep until you absolutely need to get out of bed on the weekends, but today you’ve somehow managed to wake up at 7:30. Feeling proud of yourself, you decide to take this as your sign to be productive and to spend the day finally cleaning your apartment.

This past week had been hectic with work and the semester coming to an end that you barely had time to sleep, let alone clean your space. So, your apartment had been looking like a tornado blew through it for a while now and it definitely was not helping your mental state.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you shove your blanket from off your figure and force yourself out of bed. What? Just because you woke up early and decided to be productive in your head doesn’t mean that it’s not hard to get out of bed, especially when the mornings are still cold.

You rush into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and shower to warm yourself up. Once you’re done with your shower, you put on a pair of leggings and your hoodie (yeah, definitely yours and not your boyfriend’s).

As you’re tying your hair up into a ponytail, you make your way out of your room and into the living room. You immediately groan seeing all your college papers on your dining table which is serving as your makeshift desk, the trash on your kitchen counters, and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

Seeing the amount of overall filth in your living space, you were extremely tempted to just go back to bed and pretend you never had plans of cleaning, but you knew that if you didn’t clean your apartment now, you never would. So, you grab your phone, blast your cleaning playlist, and get to work.

—

It took you basically all morning just to clean your kitchen and it’s safe to say that morale was at an all time low. You collapsed onto your couch out of exhaustion and hunger. You hadn’t expected it to take so long to clean so you thought you could just eat breakfast after cleaning.

The second your body began relaxing on the couch, you heard a knock at your door. You laid there silently hoping that the person at your door would leave, but less than a minute later the knocking continued.

You let out a groan of frustration as you force yourself off the couch and make the trek to the front door less than a few feet away.

You swing open your front door, a frown still on your face. It takes you a second to register who’s at your door, but when you do, you’re left confused.

Wonwoo stands in front of you dressed casually a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tee shirt. You notice in one hand he’s holding a white plastic bag, which you can only assume contains take out.

“Wonwoo? What are you doing here?” you ask as you wrack your brain trying to remember if you had plans to see each other today.

“You weren’t answering any of my texts so I decided to stop by and make sure everything was okay.” he explains as you step aside letting him into your apartment.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I spent the past few hours cleaning. I haven’t been on my phone since I got up. I didn’t mean to worry you.” you say with your lips slightly down turned and eyebrows furrowed.

You felt bad for making him worry to the point that he felt the need to come to your apartment.

“Hey, it’s fine.” he says softly, noticing how upset you looked at yourself. “I wanted to see you anyways, so you not answering gave me an excuse to see you.”

Once Wonwoo took his shoes off, he finally registered what you looked like. His lips almost immediately turned up into a small smile as he realized that the hoodie you were wearing was none other than his own. He noticed the subtle flush in your cheeks, the thin sheen of sweat creating a film over your skin, and the way strands of hair were falling out of your ponytail. 

Noticing the fact that Wonwoo was just silently standing in your entryway, you ushered him deeper into your apartment. Honestly, you had noticed his eyes wandering over your figure and you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by the current state of your appearance. You and Wonwoo had been dating for about a year, but something about the way he looks at you makes you feel the same way you did during your first date.

“So, whatcha got in the bag?” you asked, looking pointedly at the plastic bag in his right hand.

“Oh, this? I picked up lunch from your favorite place. I thought you might’ve been sleeping or something when I texted you so I thought it would be nice to bring you some food.”

“Aww, thank you so much babe!” you exclaim in excitement. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and I’ll just grab us some plates from the kitchen?”

Wonwoo gives you a nod as he makes his way to the couch. He places the bag of food on the table in front of him and he watches as you walk around the kitchen grabbing plates, utensils, and glasses of water for the two of you. He can’t help but coo every time you tug at the sleeves of his too large hoodie to grab everything.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask once you’ve joined your boyfriend on the couch.

“No reason. You just look cute in my hoodie, that’s all.” he says, a small smile of endearment grazing his lips.

You feel yourself flush at his statement and pull your hair out of your lopsided ponytail as an attempt to distract yourself from how flustered Wonwoo still makes you even after how long you’ve been dating.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation to more neutral territory. 

Wonwoo can’t keep himself from smiling a little wider at your flustered state, but he decides to take pity on you and drops the subject. Just this once, though.

Soon enough, conversation flows easily between the two of you as you share your meal together. Before you know it, the plates in front of you are empty and there lies another thing left for you to clean. Just as you’re about to get up to clean the small mess in front of you (it merely is a drop of water in the ocean of a mess your apartment is), Wonwoo beats you to it and is stacking the dirty utensils in his hands.

“Wonwoo, I can clean it.” you whine when he motions for you to stay seated as he continues cleaning.

“You can rest on the couch. Didn’t you say that you spent the entire morning cleaning?” he asks.

“Yeah, but I -” before you can finish your sentence, Wonwoo cuts you off.

“No buts! You looked exhausted when I got here. The least I can do is clean up the mess I helped make. Besides, I’m not called the dishwashing fairy for nothing.” he says with a smile.

Before you can protest, Wonwoo gives you a pointed look and you realize there’s no way that you can change his mind so you collapse backwards onto your couch letting him do whatever he wants.

You’re left alone with your thoughts for the first time today with the soft clattering of dishes coming from the kitchen serving as white noise. You’re suddenly aware of how warm you feel and you feel as though you are overheating. 

You had spent the day either distracted by cleaning or distracted by Wonwoo that you didn’t realize the rise in temperature in your apartment. It was finally spring time and as much as you loved it, you despised how it would be so cold in the mornings and evenings but warm in the afternoons making it almost impossible to dress appropriately without freezing in the morning or melting in the afternoon.

Feeling sweat prickle on your skin, you decide the only thing you can do is change out of Wonwoo’s thick hoodie into a thin, flowy tee shirt.

When you get up to go change, Wonwoo can see you from your kitchen sink a few feet away and he’s instantly curious as to what you’re up to.

“Where’re you going, love?” he asks from the sink as he continues to scrub the plate in front of him.

“I’m gonna change into something thinner. It’s too warm to be wearing a hoodie right now.” you say as you stop at the entryway of your kitchen to respond to him.

“Why do you need to change for that, though?” he asks, taking his eyes off the plate in front of him to glance at you with his confused eyes.

“I just told you, I’m overheating.” you say, confused as to why he’s confused.

“Can’t you just take it off here?”

You feel heat rush to your face, and you’re now feeling warm from embarrassment.

“Well… I would but…” you trailed off, hoping that you would just disappear or he would drop the subject.

“But…?” Wonwoo asks, having finished washing the dishes and giving you his full attention.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. Just say it quickly, it’s like ripping a bandaid off. you think to yourself.

In one breath, as quickly as you can, you say, “I would but I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

It takes Wonwoo a second to understand what you said, but when he does, less than ten seconds after the words left your mouth, you’re already in your room with the door closed behind you.

Wonwoo feels his cheeks heat up as he realizes that this entire day, including the past hour plus that the two of you spent together, the only thing separating your top half from the rest of the world was his hoodie. He originally thought you looked so cute drowning in his hoodie and while he still does, this new information changes his entire perception of the time you’ve spent together.

Meanwhile, you were pacing around your room silently screaming at yourself. I can’t believe I just told him that I was both shirtless and braless under his hoodie. Why would I do that? What if he thinks I’m weird? Or worse, what if I made him uncomfortable? 

Letting out a defeated groan, you force yourself to push all these worries out of your head. You decide that you can’t hide in your room forever, mainly because you know Wonwoo would come looking for you at some point. So, you change into a loose fitting shirt, take a deep breath, and step out of your room.

Your eyes immediately search the kitchen to see if Wonwoo is where you left him, but he’s not there anymore. You wander deeper into your apartment and you find Wonwoo sitting on your couch, casually scrolling on his phone. 

You don’t think he notices your presence and based on how calm he looks, you feel hopeful that he either a) forgot the conversation happened or b) didn’t think it was as much of a big deal as you made it out to be in your head. But when you sit on the other end of the couch and Wonwoo drops his phone to the side to look at you with a knowing smirk on his face, you realize that you were so, so, so wrong.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Wonwoo asks with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you respond, feigning innocence and looking anywhere but your boyfriend sitting a few inches away from you.

“Really? Because I seem to recall you saying that you weren’t wearing anything under my hoodie today.”

Your face flushes for the thousandth time today and you can’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Listen Wonwoo, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. That wasn’t my intention.” you say, looking into his eyes earnestly.

“Wait, why are you apologizing?” he asks you confused.

“Because it’s obvious that I made you uncomfortable earlier.” 

“Babe, I don’t know why you would think I would feel uncomfortable by it. The only reason I didn’t respond was because I was just a little shocked, that’s all. If anything, it’s kinda hot now that I know that you’ve been walking around with nothing underneath my hoodie.”

Feeling embarrassed by assuming that Wonwoo was uncomfortable and by hearing his true feelings, you grab a throw pillow from your couch and bury your face into it.

“I can’t believe I embarrassed myself in front of you twice in one day.” you mumble into the pillow.

“Hey, this can’t be as embarrassing as when you tripped over Vernon’s bag and ended up spilling your drink on Mingyu’s lap.” Wonwoo says.

“I thought we all agreed to not bring that up anymore.” you whine as you hit him with the pillow in your hands.

“I’m just saying, you’ve done more embarrassing things in your life than telling me you're naked under my hoodie.”

“Wow, thank you so much Wonwoo. I feel so much better about myself.” you say sarcastically.

“Aww, babe I’m sorry.” he says as he reaches for your hands.

“Forget it.” you say, faking annoyance as you get up to go clean off your dining table turned desk.

“Babe.” Wonwoo whines as he rushes behind you and grabs your wrist.

Before you know it, Wonwoo tugs at your wrist pulling you close into his chest. Your breath hitches at the boldness of his actions and you peer up at him through your lashes to see what his next move is.

He removes his hand from your wrist and gently raises your chin so he can look into your eyes.

“I’m sorry babe.” he says.

When you’re about to open your mouth to tell him it’s fine, you’re silenced by his lips on yours. Deciding that you actually had nothing to say, you choose to melt into the kiss instead. 

Once the two of you part for air, you say “I guess you’re forgiven.”

“You don’t sound too confident about your answer.” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Maybe I’m not confident in my answer. What’re you gonna do about it?” you challenge.

“Then let me make it up to you in a different way.” he says as he pulls you into another kiss.

It’s safe to say that you didn’t get any cleaning done for the rest of the day.

—

When you go over to Wonwoo’s place for movie night a few weeks later, Wonwoo is more than happy to see you wearing one of his hoodies you’ve taken from him.

While the two of you are cuddling together on the couch, Wonwoo can’t help but let his curiosity get the best of him. When you’re engrossed in the movie, Wonwoo takes his hand that was resting on your thigh and brings it up to the hem of hoodie loosely covering your frame.

This grabs your attention and you turn to him to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed. But Wonwoo’s eyes are fixed on the screen in front of you and it makes you wonder if you were just imagining things. Deciding that you were just being weird, you turn your attention back to the screen.

When Wonwoo notices that your attention is on the movie again, he takes that as his sign to move his hand again. He slips his hand under the hem of the hoodie and he slowly inches closer and closer to your chest.

Although your eyes were trained on the movie playing in front of you, all of your attention was on Wonwoo’s hand slowly grazing your skin as he made his way up your body. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold hand gently graze your bare breast and you turned to face Wonwoo.

He looked at you with a smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Something told you that you wouldn’t know how the movie would end.

[ozzgin]

Completely outside my usual fandoms, but I’ve been tempted to scribble out some ideas for the longest time.

Edit: Alright, alright. I’ve officially added CoD to my fandom list. Part 2 is out!

Yandere! CoD Headcanons: König x Reader x Ghost

Featuring two men, one mission, and a female reader that caught their interest more than they’d like to admit. TW: Obsessive behavior, violence, dubious consent, mildly NSFW

[Part II]

It really shouldn’t be that fucking difficult. You go, you complete the mission, you return. Repeat. That’s what they’ve been doing for years. So much, in fact, that most of it is really just a sequence of mechanical actions, done so often they’ve become part of the subconscious. Crushing the throat under an armlock, stalking the target, mounting the suppressor before a sneak shot. Like driving a car, it becomes a learned routine.

Naturally there are elements of novelty to each mission. New teammates, new places, new requirements. It’s all part of the job. People come and go, comrades stay in your heart. What happens, however, when that latter part isn’t enough? Both Ghost and König have become accustomed to the classic rule: don’t get attached. Yet this time, for whatever reason, the nagging anxiety in the back of their heads just won’t go away. A pitiful need is clawing the walls of their pride, like a stray dog whimpering after the first sign of shelter. People come and go, but (Y/N) stays. Somehow this statement has materialized in their hearts and no other truth can be accepted.

They cannot pinpoint the exact moment this insidious feeling has nestled its way in. It started rather innocently. The first brief greetings were done on the loud, bumpy ride towards the temporary base. ‘Greetings’ is a generous word for it. Ghost had nodded at you in acknowledgement, and König merely glanced at you before staring into the distance.

You scarcely interacted with each other on the field, although that’s probably where their respect for you had gradually built up. You’re swift and efficient, nearly competing in ruthlessness. For König, the most memorable affair was you quietly twisting the neck of an enemy he failed to detect in time. His eyes widened upon seeing the barrel pointed at him, but just as speedily your form emerged from the shadows and you lunged at the assailant. Once the deed had been done, you merely lifted your hand in a thumbs up gesture and you went on. He remained there for a good minute, staring at the massive man you took down without hesitation. Similarly, Lt. Riley felt the cold beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his teammate shouted into the radio, demanding reinforcements. He wouldn’t make it in time and the anticipating guilt begun knotting in his stomach. He was searching for a solution when a prolonged round of bullets jolted him back to the radio. Moments of static silence, before you spoke in your headset: “Targets down. Out.” And just like that, you had vanished.

The realization hadn’t truly hit until they encountered you out of battle. They were going over the map when a small, dainty hand pointed to a random location. For a second they were startled, wondering if a civilian somehow entered their base. They hadn’t even registered your presence. Standing next to König’s enormous frame, you almost faded into the background as one of the furniture pieces. You were still in uniform, sure, but the heavy combat accessories and the dust of the bloodied fields seemed to have added more inches to your posture, at least in their imagination. You glared incredulously and inquired if it’s dementia or misogyny stopping them from recognizing (Y/N) (L/N). Ghost cleared his throat and curtly apologized for his reaction and König mumbled a continuation to it, suddenly and unexplainably awkward.

Such a faux pas would normally be swept under the rug. Had tactfulness and diplomacy been their key strengths, they wouldn’t be out here shooting people. But whatever embarrassment struck them on that particular day continued to linger, tugging their focus in a restless reminiscence. Until it finally occurred to them it wasn’t embarrassment persistently occupying their minds. Rather, and it should’ve been obvious, they have since become helplessly infatuated with you. The elephant in the room had gotten a name. But this particular elephant came with thick tendrils of obsession, spreading out relentlessly and asphyxiating any attempts to subdue it.

It really shouldn’t be that fucking difficult. Except it is. It’s hard for Ghost to look you in the eyes and give you the orders without clenching his fists and desperately trying to bury the avalanching thoughts of pushing you against that very wall, railing you until you forget his name. König can barely peek in your direction without being plagued by indecent images of your flushed, drooling face as he slams into your frail body.

Even worse is when the men become aware of each other’s intentions. Ghost had meant to check up on you after the latest expedition, but he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of König inspecting your wounds, his large hand resting innocently on your thigh as he squatted before you. You were in too much discomfort to notice, but it was clear to him. This bastard had a death wish. Days later it was König’s turn to taste the bitter betrayal when he heard your vibrant laugh approaching. You were thanking your companion for the entertaining workout and Ghost took advantage of your relaxed, distracted mood to place a hand against your arched back. That’s when he looked over with a predatory, malicious glint in his eye, as if marking his territory. You smiled, blissfully unaware of the suffocating tension within the room.

It’s no longer a matter of you accepting them or not. It’s who gets his hands on you first. You really must try to see it from their perspective, (Y/N). Put aside their love for you for a moment, and think about it. They’re only doing what’s best for you. Someone like you will never be satisfied with just any other man out there. You need a fitting partner, one that can protect you with imperishable, incessant loyalty. That’s truly the logical conclusion to it: there’s no one else for you. Just like nobody will ever compare to you in their eyes. And lamentably, you can’t afford to doubt their argument. The clock is ticking, and before they know it, the mission will be over and you’ll all be shipped to the next task. They can’t have that. They must act now.

“Isn’t it kind of early?” You ask, stretching up to check the ammunition shelves. Ghost asked you to help him gather some supplies from one of the storage closets, yet no one else is currently preoccupied with it. The hallways are empty and the only sound is your own shuffle between the cramped walls, emphasized especially by the tall man next to you. “I like to plan ahead” is all he answers. He bites his lower lip underneath the mask, contemplating his next step. How the fuck do you casually tell someone they’ve been your wet dream for months and you’d like to make it official, with or without their input? He should probably leave out the first part. Yeah. You don’t need the details of his nightly activities. Nonetheless, he has to make it clear who you belong to now. Afterwards he’ll deal with the pest that’s been wagging his tail around you.

“Oh, fuck this.” He eventually huffs out, exasperated. You jump slightly at the sudden outburst and turn to him, confused. He approaches you until your back hits the shelves, at which point he slams a hand above your head and effectively traps you between his sinewy arms. Perfect fucking spot. No, he shouldn’t get sidetracked. Plenty of time for that later. “What the hell?” Is the only thing that comes out of your mouth. His eyes are hollow, yet determined. A cold shiver runs down your spine and your eyes dart around the room, looking for an escape. At this distance you wouldn’t be able to tackle him down. He’s too big. Goddamnit. You grip his forearm, hoping to find some switch that pulls him out of this bizarre behavior. Ghost opens his mouth to speak, but the words dissolve into the explosive noise of the door ripping from its hinges. You yell at the sudden commotion.

König walks in, bending under the small doorframe. He seems to have just returned from the battlegrounds, vest splattered with fresh blood and sleeves scratched and torn. Despite the usual cloth draped over the head, you can discern a feral expression plastered on his face. “Du Landschlampe.” He growls and extends a hand towards Ghost. He clicks his tongue, annoyed, and is forced to release his hold on you to block the incoming blow. This is your chance. You nod at the Austrian man, grateful for his help, and proceed to sprint for the exit. Contrary to your expectations, he swiftly blocks your path and you slam into his body as the air is abruptly expelled from your lungs. You fall to the ground from the powerful momentum.

“You’re not leaving until we settle this”, König states in a low voice. Ghost reaches for one of his pockets and pulls out his hunting knife with a parading twirl. “That, I agree with. Let me show you exactly what happens to the fucker that messes with my woman.” König lets out a chuckle. “I was going to say the same thing.” You can only stare in terror.

What on Earth is going on?

[slasherhaven]

I don’t know if you’ve done this before but what about period sex? 🥺 I feel like the slashers are so used to blood it wouldn’t be upsetting to them. (Preferably with Thomas Hewitt because he’s my current hyper-fixation)

I honestly can't remember if I've written this. I thought I had but I can't find but even if I have, I'll happily write it again! Period sex had become a recent interest of mine to be honest...

Period Sex with The Slashers (NSFW):

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is phased by blood in the slightest, he's been working with it since he was old enough to work after all. However, it's different when it's you that bleeding!

He panics at the slightest sign of you being hurt, always wanting to protect you.

I doubt he has any real knowledge about periods, maybe he knows that some people have them but he definitely doesn't know much more than that.

When you're on your period, he likes to fuss over you and make sure you're alright. Especially after you explained everything about your experiences and if you have bad cramps.

You have to be the one who brings up the idea of having sex when you're on your period, because he definitely won't.

You're bleeding there! He assumes that because you're bleeding it would hurt, which you figure makes sense but you'll explain that you might be more sensitive but it won't be painful.

Thomas just need some reassurances that he's not going to hurt you or anything, and becomes more eager when you mention that orgasms can actually help ease cramps.

The blood doesn't bother him at all, he's not in the slightest bit put off or grossed out, it barely even registers with him once he's reassured that you're not in pain. But he still makes sure to be extra careful with you.

You just seem so...raw, that it could be painful. So, he'll just go slow and be careful.

Since he has absolutely no problem with blood, he will go down on you with as much enthusiasm as any other day. He doesn't mind getting his hands or face dirty.

Michael Myers

Michael has no problem with the sight of blood. In face, it might even lean in the other direction.

The blood doesn't put him off, it actually entices him. Gets his blood pumping like those moments before a hunt.

You might not even have to bring up the subject. He's still plenty open for sex, no matter how heavy your flow.

Still, he's not exactly educated about periods so might assumed your injured. But once he knows you're unharmed, he just shrugs it off as mostly unimportant. Is still going to be interested in sex as he is any other day. More so maybe.

Michael loves to smear the blood around, to have his hands coated in it, smearing bloody handprints over your hips and legs and everywhere else on your body. He has no interest in keeping things clean and tidy, it's a waste of time to even lay a towel down to be honest.

He doesn't take it easy on you either, even if you are feeling more raw and sensitive. In fact, he's only encouraged by your increased squirming and the sounds you make.

Jason Voorhees

Oh sweet Jason.

Sex is already a taboo thing to him, at least in the beginning of your relationship, and so are periods.

You've helped him so much when it comes to having a healthier relationship with sex and you've also taught him plenty about periods, because he wanted to learn, wanted to help you.

Jason always treats you like you're ill when you're on your period, wanting to dote on you and make sure those cramps aren't bothering you too much.

The thought of having sex with you on those days doesn't even occur to him. Not because he thinks it's gross or because he has a phobia of blood, but because he figures it would harm you in some way. I mean, you are bleeding and Jason has only ever associated blood with pain and violence and death. Not exactly sexy.

And when you make a move on him, he's more surprised than anything. You want to do that with him while you're bleeding?

Just very worried and concerned for your wellbeing.

Once you reassure him, he's willing to try it, though. You wouldn't lead him wrong, after all.

He'll lay down the towels and be gentle with you, every touch feather light and tender.

He's not really into the blood, more just unbothered by it. It's there but he doesn't care, it's not a turn on or a turn off.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is a horny bastard and if you think some blood is going to put him off, you clearly don't know him well.

Blood doesn't phase him anyway, so it's really not a problem.

You don't have to reassure him or anything, he's already tugging your underwear down.

He doesn't care about making a mess, about staining sheets or surfaces that you will have to clean later.

Doesn't have many feelings about the blood itself other than enjoying the feeling of it, warm and wet.

Will dip a finger in the blood and draw a little pattern on your stomach, just for the fun of it.

Also won't care about washing up before going to sleep, curling himself around you and drifting off while his thighs are still smeared with your drying blood.

You'll have to fight him into the shower, either before he falls asleep or in the morning. Which, of course, only leads into another round but at least he's a little cleaner now.

Bo Sinclair

Bo loves marking you up, claiming you as his.

The two of you might have even given blood play a try before. Bo's definitely into it and has fantasied about it at least.

He's an asshole when you're on your period, always blames your bad mood on it, and is just a general menace.

He's also a huge tease, especially if he knows you get horny on your period.

He'll have you against the kitchen counter, push a hand under your waistband, bring you to the edge of orgasm before slipping his hand out and sucking the blood from his fingers. Leaving you flustered and unsated.

And when he does fuck you, he can't take his eyes off of where you're connected, of where the blood smears over you both.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent isn't so interested in blood but he's seen more than enough so that it doesn't faze him.

So, he's not put off by you bleeding, he's just more concerned than anything.

If you're uncomfortable or in pain, his mind isn't going to sex. So, you'll probably have to be the one to initiate it.

He's not off put but it, just fusses to make sure you're certain and that it won't hurt you in anyway.

Puts all his focus in making sure you're comfortable.

Despite not being interested in blood in any sexual way, he does get a little curious. It's something new to explore with you and he's intrigued.

He's not very messy with it but finds that he does kind of like the way it stains the inside of your thighs at least.

Cleans you up so tenderly afterwards until there isn't a trace of blood left, just being his sweet self.

Lester Sinclair

Lester is not in anyway phased by dirt or blood or being messy in anyway.

It's not a flattering comparison but he handles roadkill everyday, he's not doing to be bothered by some blood.

The only reason he doesn't really consider having sex during those times is because he assumes you wouldn't want too. Just kinda assumed you don't desire it during that time, especially if you've ever mentioned being in pain with cramps or feeling 'gross' in someway while on your period.

However, he's not opposed to it when you suggest it. He's surprised when you hurry to assure him that it's alright if he doesn't want too, that you understand if he'd not into it while you're on your period.

Lester really doesn't care about any mess you make and you will have to be the person to grab the towels, he just wouldn't even think about it.

Doesn't care how heavy your period is, he has no fears when it comes to touching you or bringing you pleasure.

While Lester really isn't fazed by being dirty, he'll help you both wash up. Afterwards, if you just want to soak in the bath for a while, he'd more than happy to join you.

Bubba Sawyer

Blood is nothing to Bubba, might as well be water to him.

However, he does know that blood usually follows pain, and if you're bleeding, he's going to be concerned that your hurting. And lets be real, he might not even know what a period is.

So, after plenty of explanation and reassurances, we can talk period sex.

Once you've assured him that it's all normal and the pain is more in the cramps than anything else, Bubba really doesn't think much of it. He becomes more concerned about the cramps than the actual blood aspect. The bleeding itself is no big deal to him.

So, when you express that you would like to have sex with him even though you're still on your period, Bubba trusts that you know better than him on whether it's alright for you or not.

For Bubba it's just like the blood isn't there, just an addition to sex that he doesn't really need to worry about because it doesn't mean that he's hurting you.

Billy Lenz

Some blood isn't going to stop him from wanting you, from needing you.

Billy has a complicated relationship with blood. It's always followed negative feelings and experiences but it's also kinda...pretty?

He doesn't want to hurt you or make you bleed but if you're already bleeding and unharmed then...

Truly has no worries about mess, he loves when the two of you end up all sticky from bodily fluids. If that includes blood, that's perfectly fine by him.

He'll grin at you with your blood staining his mouth and cheeks, will smear bloody hands over your body and paint you with it.

He doesn't know why he finds it so enticing, so arousing, but he does. His eyes shine as he paints you both with your blood. And he's able to do all of this without harming you, which is a huge bonus for him.

Like Brahms, he'd happily just go to sleep without washing the drying blood off first. You have to drag him off to the shower and change the sheets because Billy will just sleep in the mess without worry.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

In general, blood is not all that new in your relationship.

Asa has definitely indulged his blood play kink with you, whether it was with your blood or somebody else's. So period sex isn't the craziest thing for him and he's not going to even bat an eye at it.

However, he is going to indulge.

Asa is pretty thrilled about you being more sensitive than usual, ready to find all new ways to torment and tease you.

You're not about to be ruining his sheets though, he's doing to be clean and tidy about it. He's using a mattress protector at the very least, or having you strapped to a table for him to experiment on you.

He has you squirming and pleading until there are tears in your eyes and you feel raw between your legs, even more so than you already did.

Slips his fingers between your lips, having you taste your own blood.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Come on, a little bit of blood isn't going to scare him.

In fact, blood arouses him and he isn't ashamed of that in the slightest.

You can try to initiate or he will, it doesn't really matter. A period isn't going to have Jesse dancing shyly around you.

Blood play is nothing new for the two of you so he turns it unto a bit of a challenge instead.

He'll have you ride him while he's fully dressed, warning you not to make a mess of his clothes.

And if you do get blood on his nice new suit, well...he's just going to have to punish you, isn't he?

Otis Driftwood

Otis is super into blood play and has already participated in it with you if you share his kink. If not, he's at least mentioned it multiple times.

So, this is just blood play without having to tend to wounds afterwards. That suits him just fine.

In Otis' opinion, the heavier your flow, the better.

He paints you both with it.

He loves seeing you covered in blood, the source of that blood is pretty unimportant to him (unless somebody else has hurt you, obviously).

He's not shy about his interest in the blood but by this point, you should know that it's something that turns him on. There is precious little that doesn't turn him on really.

Honestly, let's a little annoyed if there isn't enough blood for his liking but whatever.

By the end, he'd got drying blood on his face, hands, and thighs. Blood clotted in his facial hair and his teeth stained red, the coppery taste on his tongue.

The sheets are definitely ruined and if you don't get rid of them, Otis will keep them stains and all. He doesn't care about some dirty bedsheets after all.

Baby Firefly

For so many reasons, Baby isn't shy about some blood.

If you're on your period, she doesn't see why that should change your sex life unless you don't want to have sex on your period. Which she would respect, she knows how it can make you feel.

But she also knows that orgasms help with cramps and that sometimes a symptom of a period is being horny, and she will use these things against you just to tease you.

Come on, there's no need to deprive yourself just because of a little blood. She isn't fazed! Let her help!

Doodles little patterns all over you with your blood, giggling to herself about them.

Will paint her lips (and yours if you let her) with your blood just for her amusement if nothing else.

See! There can be some perks of a period when you're with Baby!

Yautja (Predator)

You don't have to tell your mate when you're on your period, he can smell it (not in a way that it smells bad, he just has those heightened alien senses).

He panics at the scent of blood first since Yautja don't menstruate so he assumes you're injured in some way.

He's quick and happy to learn though, and then stops being so concerned about it when your period comes along.

Other than the initial panic, your mate doesn't care about blood in the slightest. He's an Yautja, a predator, a hunter. Blood is a daily occurrence for him, it doesn't faze him.

And when he learns that pleasure can ease period cramps, he will practically insist on it for pain management reasons.

Honestly, the fact that you bleed like this monthly and just carry on with your life like nothing is wrong is admirable and worthy of respect in his eyes.

Having sex with you when you're bleeding, well, there's just something so primal about it.

The scent of your blood and your arousal has his own blood pumping and a growl emitting from behind his mandibles.

He loses himself in the sight of your blood, smearing it over your skin, tasting it.

Afterwards, he just holds you, nuzzling at your skin. Both of you still stained with your own blood.

[inurnctdreams]

dress - m.l

idol!mark x idol fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship, one shot, song fic (maybe?? i wouldn’t class it as one but there are references to lyrics and the song inspired the fic so??)

warnings: swearing, very suggestive (grinding, making out, over the clothes stuff but no explicit sex), alcohol, mentions of being tipsy/drunk (mark and reader have been drinking but everything is consensual), pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, mine/yours, dude (affectionate)), mdni

wc: 3.1k

notes: this entire thing stemmed from this gifset that gave me mark brainrot and made me think of the song dress by taylor swift

you’re pretty sure you’re supposed to be paying attention to the conversation happening in front of you right now. one of the executives for mbc… or was it kbs? whoever it was, they were important in the industry and they were talking at you and your group mates about your latest comeback stage… or maybe next year’s end of year concert that was already in the planning stages? you’d kind of stopped listening about five minutes ago. and it wasn’t your fault, really. you took your career seriously and wouldn’t dream of disrespecting anyone who was showing interest in your group by ignoring them usually, but you’d heard zhong chenle’s signature dolphin laugh across the room and that had been it. he’s here.

it would obviously be absolutely, outrageously scandalous for you to take off mid conversation, make a beeline for the group that had walked in and greet him like you want to. you have some modicum of self control and societal responsibility. and it isn’t a surprise, you knew he’d be here, you’d even gotten updates via text with a rough estimate of when he’d walk in. but you haven’t seen him in person in over three weeks and you’ve been looking forward to this night since the last time he’d kissed you goodbye at your door before sneaking back out of your dorm building to his car. 3am on a tuesday morning had turned out to be the only time the both of you were in the same city and without obligations in months. comebacks, tours, interviews. both of your lives were so hectic, it was difficult enough to get a moment to yourself to breathe, let alone together. now he’s here, in the same room as you, and you can’t do anything about it. the anticipation is killing you.

it hadn’t stopped you from pausing mid sentence when you’d registered his presence, though. disguising it with a cough and a modest apology, you’d finished your words and promptly stopped contributing to the conversation. smiling politely with your best poker face on as you tuned out of whatever was being discussed further and listened out across the room for any sign of him. chenle’s laugh is infectious, so donghyuck’s high pitched giggles soon joined in, audible above the rumble of laughter that had erupted from that corner of the room. but that was it. once the joke had worn off, the usual sounds of casual conversation replaced it, no doubt one of the older members’ doing as they reminded them of their surroundings. the first hour or so of award show after parties tend to be just the thing you’re ignoring: prominent figures in the industry congratulating and backhandedly complimenting idols whilst trying to promote something or take advantage of rookies with less media training by getting them to reveal secrets or agree to things.

once they’ve either gotten what they wanted or given up trying, they make their way out and the real party starts. realising you’re going to get nothing from the indiscernible voices in their direction, you start to work out how long you’ve been here, and how long you have to wait before it won’t be suspicious of you to drag your group over there to greet them. unfortunately, you’re interrupted midway through your mental calculations by something digging into your side. it’s gone before you even register the touch, light and inconspicuous. you glance down momentarily before meeting the eyes of your group mate, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“sorry, i didn’t quite catch that last bit.” your years of experience in the spotlight and exceptional training kick in immediately. you turn back to the middle-aged man in front of you with a practised innocent smile. “what were you saying?”

you smile graciously at the waitress as she hands you a flute of expensive champagne off of the shiny silver tray in her hand. taking a small sip, you school your face into a neutral expression to hide the wince at the acidic taste. you’ve never been much of a fan of the stuff, but it’s always handed out at events so you’ve gotten somewhat used to it in the years you’ve been legally allowed to drink at them. this is your second glass, and yet again you find yourself longing for the boring portion of the night to be over so the alcohol can start flowing more freely. you meet the eyes of your group mate and share a look, she hates champagne too. giggling to yourselves, you almost don’t notice the group of twenty-something boys heading in your direction, led by taeyong.

you’re immediately at full attention, straightening up from the pillar you’d been leaning against and placing your half full champagne flute on the nearest surface as you grin at your friends approaching. it’s almost comical, how the amount of people surrounding you in that moment feels like you’re looking for him in a crowd rather than just among his own group members. but then yuta moves to say hi to your group mate and there he is. god, he looks heavenly. the all black ensemble complimented by silver jewellery, his artfully tousled hair, the hint of gloss that have his lips looking so shiny and kissable it’s taking all of your entire being not to ravish him right here and now in the middle of this crowded room. not that he needs any of it to start up the roaring of butterflies in your stomach or trigger the giddy high you’re feeling. no, mark lee makes you feel like this every time he looks at you. barefaced, old t-shirt and glasses on with a hint of stubble starting to grow in as you sit next to him in the studio. bleary eyed, half asleep and hair sticking up as your phone alarm goes off on his bedside table. hoodie, snapback and face mask hiding most of his face as he slips into your practise room and catches your gaze in the mirror.

“y/n.” and everything just stops. the rest of the room falls away, the roar of conversation as your groups say hi is silenced, all you can see, hear, feel is him. the way he looks you up and down appreciatively that still makes your heart flutter despite it happening every time he sees you. he just has this way of making you feel like you’re the only one his attention would ever be captured by.

“hi, mark.” there’s a smile on your face, and you’re trying to make it your usual polite idol, public appearance smile, but really you have no control and you can feel the corners of your mouth turning up further against your will. you think that if you looked, his would be similar, probably that mischievous half-smirk he does that makes his dimple appear. and you love his dimple, but you’re currently captivated by the lovestruck look in his eyes. in that moment, you’re thankful you’d put your glass down because you would’ve dropped it. your hands shake as you force yourself to hold back from him. your groups are publicly very good friends, having known each other as trainees and debuting within a year of each other. you and mark have been best friends for years, and that’s all it was until the mutual pining hit its peak. there was something so beautiful about being in love with your best friend, with someone who understood how demanding your career was and already knew everything about you and who was still your best friend alongside being your boyfriend. around you, the rest of nct are giving your group mates half-hugs or shoulder nudges, but you don’t move to touch him, knowing you won’t let go if you initiate physical contact.

“y/n!” johnny rips you from your bubble. you have no idea how long you and mark were stood there, staring into each other’s eyes with that look on your faces, but it must’ve been long enough if someone’s intervened. the older idol pulls you into a short hug, but not before leaning down to murmur in your ear. “we know you guys are like, sickeningly in love, but would it kill you to not make it super obvious while there’s still cameras everywhere?”

oops.

“mark!” you whisper. or at least you hope you do, you’re pretty tipsy by this point in the evening. he just laughs, equally inebriated, and continues pulling you down the empty corridor, fingers intertwined. on a scale of zero to having your relationship exposed by dispatch come morning, sneaking off together a mere forty minutes after the industry execs had left the party is probably a solid deniable accusation. not exactly a great idea, but if anyone found out it wouldn’t be the end of the world, just carefully curated excuses in a statement and an earful from management. the first couple of doors he tries are locked, but third time seems to be the charm as you’re pulled into a room and plunged into darkness when the door clicks shut behind you.

“c’mere baby.” and you let go. all the pressure from being around so many people that could ruin your careers with one article, all the stolen glances across the room, all the secret smiles you share, all the patience that had been slowly wearing thin the longer you were in his proximity but not being able to do anything about it. it’s been been building all evening, and the dam finally breaks.

you practically throw yourself into his arms, winding your own around his neck as his wrap around your middle. he holds you to him so tight it hurts a little, but you’re probably slightly choking him with how strong your own grip is. the initial ‘holy shit you’re here and i can touch you without everyone looking’ moment passes and you both relax slightly. he still holds you close but it’s more grounding and comforting than anything. you bury your face into his neck and just let yourself breathe him in. his scent, the underlying notes of mark and home underneath the fancy cologne. the steady, comforting beat of his pulse against you. his arms are your safe place and being held by him makes everything better, even if just a little. you can’t count the number of times you’ve been exhausted or stressed or upset or scared or angry and all he’s had to do is pull you into him. you’ve cried on him, ranted into his chest and listened to him murmur words of encouragement and reassurance and love into your ear. there’s no other place you’d ever want to be. and even when you couldn’t physically be with him, he’s been there on facetime, or phone call, or over text. you’ve done the same for him without hesitation more times than you can imagine. he’s your person, your best friend, your soulmate, your everything, your one and only, your lifeline. you feel him press firm kisses into your hair and smile against his throat, snuggling into him happily.

“missed you.” you mumble. the alcohol in your system is amplifying the giddy feeling that’s thrumming through your entire being. all semblance of public image and self-control come crumbling down in front of him like always until all that’s left is the unguarded, most raw versions of yourselves laid bare for each other. he squeezes your hips and pulls back a little to look you in the eyes. you’ve adjusted to the darkness enough to make out his facial features and that same unfiltered, pure love is staring back at you from earlier but now he’s unabashedly grinning at you and his cheeks are flushed with happiness (and alcohol). his dimple is out in full force as he giggles right back at you. this is your mark, the one reserved for you and you only.

“fuck, you’re so perfect.” he whispers. “wish we could stay in here forever, just us.”

“i know.” you bite your lip, and his eyes zero in on your mouth. “wait, where even are we?”

“i don’t care.” and just as quickly as the wholesome, lovesick feeling had flooded you, the arousal and want flares up, threatening to consume you the second he grabs your face and claims your lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. he walks you both backwards until you’re pressed up against the door, gripping the sides of his jacket both for stability and to satiate the overwhelming need to get your hands on him. you whine against his lips as one of his hands slips into your hair and pulls gently, letting your hands roam under his jacket all over his waist and up his chest until they’re holding his shoulders. you use the leverage to push yourself up onto your tiptoes to match his heated, open-mouth kisses with the same carnal energy. he groans, the sound making you shiver and adding to the warmth pooling in your abdomen. the hand that’s not in your hair drops down to slide around you and grab your hip, pulling you even closer so you’re flush against his body. the need for oxygen is beginning to grow, but you’re addicted to the floaty, lightheaded feeling that comes along with it. it soon becomes too much, though, the both of you breathing heavily as you break away for air, but he wastes no time in leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw and neck, each one hotter and more filthy than the last.

“mark.” you whimper, turning your head to the side to grant him more access to your throat. he nips at your pulse point softly, careful not to leave a visible mark, but it makes you gasp and arch into him further all the same.

“my pretty girl.” he pants against your skin. “all mine.”

“mm-hmm.” you agree. “yours.” and you are, fully and irrevocably his in every sense of the word. you thread your own hands into his hair and pull his face back up to kiss him again. you could spend forever kissing him and never be satisfied, never get bored. it doesn’t matter than you know him better than you know yourself, or that you’ve spent hours in this exact same position with him already. there seems to be this endless need inside you for mark lee that started when you met him. you were kids back then, but you always craved his presence, his attention. over the years it’s developed, but the need for him has never wavered, even after he became yours.

“been thinking about this all night, you look incredible.” he confesses between kisses, both hands dropping from around you to wander under your dress and start caressing your thighs. his touch is electrifying, leaving trails of fire in his wake as he slides his hands up to grab your ass and squeeze it. the subsequent jolt of excitement has you whimpering against him and his grip moves to the crease where your ass and thighs meet. he kneads the soft flesh there sensually before squeezing again, and that’s all the warning you get before he lifts you up and presses you back against the door in one fluid motion without even breaking the kiss. you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, ankles crossing against his back. not that you think he’ll drop you, it’s never happened before, you just use the leverage to pull him in until you’re happily trapped between the cold, hard surface of the door and your boyfriend’s warm, inviting body. you both groan as his hips roll into yours. whether it was a result of you pulling him in or an intentional movement on his part is unknown, but the way he bites your lip and grinds his crotch into yours again is definitely not an accident. with you now supporting yourself, he’s free to bring one hand up to your chest, groping at your tits through your dress. his hips haven’t stopped moving, and you can feel the way he’s quickly hardening against your underwear. whilst the sensation is incredible, it snaps you out of the trance you’ve been in.

“babe.” you moan. “mark, baby, we can’t.”

“you mean we shouldn’t.” he smirks.

“no, i mean someone is going to notice we’re gone soon, if they haven’t already, and come looking for us.” you counter. he stops moving and looks up at you, the fog of arousal starting to clear from his expression. he sighs exasperatedly, knowing you’re right.

“fine.” he lowers you back to your feet. you know you both probably no longer resemble the perfect idol look your stylists and hair and makeup artists crafted before you decided to sneak off for a tipsy make out session in one of the back rooms, so you feel around for a light switch. your eyes squeeze shut as the room is flooded with light, blinking a couple times to readjust your vision. a giggle escapes you as you take in how adorably disheveled mark looks, hair tousled, collar rumpled and the pink hue of your lipstick smudged around his lips. although, you’re sure you look pretty similar.

you spend a couple minutes making yourselves look presentable again before you rejoin the party. “i should probably go first, give you a couple of extra minutes to calm down.” you tease, eyeing the tent in his pants.

“i bet if i checked, you’d still be soaking wet for me.” he retorts, eyes darkening slightly, sending a flush of heat straight to your core. he’s not lying. you take a deep breath to compose yourself before opening the door and stepping out into the corridor. you turn back to your boyfriend.

“behave.”

“the rest of this party’s gonna be torture, having to watch you go around looking like that.” he looks you up and down appreciatively again, though this time it’s a lot less innocent. you’re so glad that your schedules have calmed down enough to allow you more time together for the next month or so, the last couple months without being able to see him properly have been rough.

“well you can show me how much you like it when we get back to yours, later.”

“i plan to.”

“good. ‘cause i only bought this dress so you could take it off.” you smirk as the door shuts behind you.

“not helping, dude!” his voice is muffled as you begin walking back towards the party, giggling to yourself as you go. “i hate you!”

“no you don’t!”

[merrybloomwrites]

Been Here for Days

Summary: You never thought about the dangers of dating a celebrity. But when you get taken by a man who's after Harry's money you're faced with the jarring reality that you're not as safe as you thought.

Word Count: 3.7K

CW: kidnapping, drugs, violence, attempted sa, hospitals

AN: I've read a few mafia AU stories where reader gets kidnapped because of Harry's dark world. So it gave me the idea for a non-AU story in which the reader gets kidnapped, simply for being the partner of a famous and wealthy popstar. I've had this partially written for a while but it seemed fitting to include in Whumptober so I finally finished it up.

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Dating Harry Styles came with a certain level of attention. This wasn’t a surprise to you, and you learned how to deal with it fairly quickly. Harry also did a lot to protect you and try to keep you out of the public eye as much as possible. 

Whenever he did get overprotective you’d remind him that it’s okay, you knew what you signed up for. But he always reiterated that his personal life should be private, and he didn’t want people trying to get more information about the two of you than he chooses to share.

One thing that’s obvious is that no one really cares about you. Not as an individual. They care that you’re Harry’s girlfriend. There’s not a doubt in your mind that if the two of you ever broke up, you’d never have photos posted of you again. 

And you’re fine with that too. It doesn’t bother you that you’re just seen as the girlfriend, mainly because it means people don’t care to go digging and finding facts about your life. Your family has been left alone for the most part, and you can still go out alone without being bothered.

Occasionally an individual will show deep interest in you, and you’ll find a social media account dedicated to you. Sometimes it’s a fan page, sometimes it’s a hate page. You let them be, since they’re still only posting things that are already released to the public. Even these ‘more enthusiastic’ people aren’t really crossing boundaries, since they’re not trying to find private photos or follow you to get photos of their own. 

Or so you thought.

Since spring began, and the weather turned nice, you’ve been making sure to walk to work each day. Ironically, you’d gotten a job in a local bakery. You wanted a steady job of your own while Harry isn’t touring, and this seemed like a perfect choice. You love getting up early to bake and decorate what’s needed for the day. It’s calm, and therapeutic. You mostly work in the back, doing the actual baking, but occasionally you fill in up front at the register. 

Each morning you walk to work as the sun is just rising, and you get home by early afternoon. This gives you time to run errands, do some chores around the house, or just take some time to relax before Harry gets home. He’s been working more in the studio recently, but still makes it a point to get back by 5PM in order to spend a couple of hours with you every day.

You cook a meal together, talk about your days, and often put on a movie and cuddle. It’s the simple things that bring the two of you joy, just getting to end your days together. 

You wake up on Monday morning, and it starts just like the rest. You get dressed, kiss the cheek of a still sleeping Harry, and begin your walk. You have an odd feeling, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is. You were up a bit later than usual the night before, enjoying some adult activities with Harry, so maybe you’re just a bit tired.

The same feeling is there on the way home. But you’d had a tough day at work with someone calling out, leaving you to try and continue baking while also working the register. 

This feeling continues the whole week, and you continue to make excuses as to why you’re so anxious during your commute each day. But when the next week is the same, you begin to grow wary. Finally, on Thursday of the second week you realize that it feels as though you’re being followed. This thought does freak you out, and you plan to talk to Harry that night at home.

But you don’t make it home.

The weather on your walk back to the house is perfect, if not even a little warm. But you don’t feel it. You feel chilled, and nervous, and you’re glancing over your shoulder every two seconds. You’re mad at yourself, berating yourself for not calling Harry to have him pick you up. You’d convinced yourself it would be fine, and you didn’t want to bother him. But now as you walk alone, sensing another person might be following you, that logic seems incredibly stupid. 

As you’re pulling out your phone to call Harry you hear a noise in the bush next to you. Instinctively, you turn towards the sound. Everything happens so quickly, yet as though it’s in slow motion. A man rushes at you, covering your mouth so you can’t scream and using his other arm to keep you still. 

You try to fight back, but he’s bigger, stronger. Despite your best efforts, he still manages to get a needle into you. At first you feel the pinch of the needle, and then you feel nothing at all, and your world goes black. 

When you wake up, you’re disoriented. You’re in a bed, and while it’s comfy, it’s not your own. The bedroom you’re in is completely unrecognizable. Slowly, your memories come back. There was a man. Who’d probably been following you for weeks, tracking your schedule, and he’s now taken you. 

And not to some basement, or a warehouse or something creepy that you’d see in movies. No, he took you to his home. To a bed. And that feels even worse. You quickly assess your body, and are relieved to find that you’re still in your same clothes, and all you can feel are a couple minor scrapes and bruises, likely from trying to fight the man. 

There’s a window in the room so you get up and peek out. It’s dark, indicating a lot of time has passed. You can’t see anything outside, no other houses, and hope it’s just because of how dark it is. Because the idea that there’s nothing nearby is causing you to panic even more than you already are. 

You check the door, but of course it’s locked from the outside. The window won’t open either. You’re trapped. 

There is a bathroom attached to the bedroom, but no way to escape from there either. It does mean you can take a sip of water and splash some water on your face which helps calm you briefly. 

Taking deep breaths you begin to pace. Your mind spins, trying to come up with escape scenarios, and hoping that someone is figuring out where you are so they can come get you. The sky turns pink outside and you check your surroundings again. 

There’s nothing but a large open field. No biggie. Maybe there’s civilization out the front of the house. There’s no way you’re locked in a house with a crazy person out in the middle of nowhere. 

Tears spring to your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. There’s got to be a way out of here. A way back home. A way to Harry. 

You’re left alone for what feels like hours. You’re a little hungry, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment. 

Finally, the door opens. You stand your ground in the middle of the room, not wanting to back yourself into a corner for whatever is about to happen. 

Taking a deep breath, you stand up straight, not showing any weakness to the person who took you. 

“Well good morning sweetheart,” he says. The pleasantries, the nickname, it’s all nauseating to you, but you keep your expression unreadable. 

“My name is Roy. I’ve been watching you and your boyfriend. You make a very cute little couple.”

“What do you want with me?” You ask, ignoring how violated you feel at the confirmation that this strange man has been following you. 

“Isn’t it obvious? Money. I want money. Harry seems to be quite devoted to you. I bet he’ll pay anything to get you back.” 

And it is obvious, really. It shouldn’t come as a surprise at all that people would want Harry’s money. But you never expected anyone to literally kidnap you for it. 

“Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure you have food and water and a safe place to stay. Might rough you up a bit, maybe have some fun,” he says as he steps forward and runs a finger along your cheek, causing you to recoil and bump into the bed behind you. 

He laughs at that, seeming to enjoy your discomfort, and then adds, “Of course that may be some good incentive for your boyfriend. I’m sure he’d hate to see anything bad happen to you.”

Your fear amps up a notch hearing this but you keep your emotions off of your face. You’re determined to stay strong throughout this whole ordeal. This man does not get to overpower you, doesn’t get to see you break like you’re sure he wants. 

He steps back a moment later and says, “Just need a quick picture, you know proof of life, proof I have you, all that.” Before you can register what he’s saying he takes out an old camera and takes your picture, the flash stunning you. 

“I brought you a sandwich and some water. It’s all sealed so you know I haven’t done anything to it. Wouldn’t want you starving yourself or dehydrating,” he says as he hands you the items. You take them, confirming they are in fact unopened. 

“Eat. I’ll be back later,” he says before stepping out of the room. You hear the definitive click of the lock but you still double check, just in case it’s open. 

Of course it isn’t, but you had to try. After examining the food to confirm it hasn’t been tampered with you take a tentative bite. It’s good, and that first bite kick starts your appetite so you quickly eat the rest. 

Roy comes back hours later to drop off dinner. He again leaves you alone to eat, and you’re starting to get lulled into a false sense of security. You think that maybe it won’t be so bad. If he’s just after money, then he might just leave you alone and then he’ll get paid and you’ll be home. 

But of course it can’t be that simple. 

Later that evening he comes back in.

“I’m bored,” he says. Just two words shouldn’t be so bone chilling, but you understand the implication. He’s bored and you’re at his mercy. He’s already drugged and kidnapped you. There’s not telling what else he’s capable of. 

By the time he leaves again you're bruised, and there’s blood running from your split lip. He’d thrown you around, hit you hard enough to send you to the ground where he kicked you repeatedly. It was terrifying and painful. 

But you admit to yourself that it could’ve been worse. You somehow convince yourself that it wasn’t so bad, that you’ll recover quickly once you get home.

After another day and a half with Roy, you’re doubting that will happen. You’re doubting you’ll recover. You’re doubting that you’ll get home. The situation has turned from terrible to terrifying. 

You’ve spent three nights in this room, including the one you were mostly unconscious for. Roy’s violence has grown, and now he seems to be changing plans again. 

“These bruises look lovely on you,” he says. It’s creepy as fuck, and indicates that whatever happens next will be awful. 

“While the violence has been fun, there are other ways to bruise your skin. I think I’ll do that today instead.”

After days of beatings you’re too tired to fight back. You lay there crying as he climbs on top of you and pins you down. His mouth goes to your neck and he begins to suck a mark there. Bile rises in your throat and it takes everything in you not to vomit at the feeling of him so close to you, touching you in this way. 

You’re wondering how you’re going to survive what’s sure to come next when there’s a noise. Suddenly the door slams open and nearly a dozen people enter the room. At first you’re terrified that they’re here to hurt you as well, but then Roy is pulled off of you and handcuffed and you realize that they’re police officers there to save you. 

One comes and talks to you, reassures you that everything is going to be okay, but still, you’re scared. It’s too much. Too much noise, and commotion, and people. You’re overwhelmed.

And then one more person enters the room. He looks different, more frazzled with a longer beard than you’ve ever seen. But as he crouches beside the bed and holds your hand between his, there’s no denying that Harry is here. 

There’s a darkness that’s been pulling at you for a while, and now that Harry’s here and you’re safe, you finally let it pull you under. 

You wake up in an uncomfortable bed wearing an itchy gown. There are bandages wrapped on various parts of your body and tubes and wires attached to you. Everything is still hazy, but you know there’s a hand holding yours. 

You quickly and clumsily pull away, not wanting anyone to touch you right now. 

Slowly the world around you refocuses, and you realize the person next to you is Harry. As much as you want his comfort, you can’t bear to have anyone’s skin touching yours. Not when it only makes you think of Roy and what he did. And what he was planning to do. 

Over the next few hours people come and go from your room. Nurses, doctors, detectives, all sharing information and asking you questions. 

But you say nothing. You don’t respond. You lay there, watching with a blank expression. Someone brings in food for dinner, and you eat just enough to make them happy before pushing away the tray and curling further into your blankets. 

The next day is much the same. They bring in a trauma counselor and though she’s a kind woman, you still say nothing. 

And it’s not that you’re upset with, or mad at these people. They’ve done nothing to you. But there’s this block in your mind right now. You’re so exhausted from the whole ordeal that it’s taking everything in you just to eat food and drink water and get yourself to and from the bathroom. 

Another two days pass and your doctor is in the room talking to Harry. He tried speaking to you but still you’re unable to find your voice. 

“Medically, she’s well enough to go home,” the doctor says. “Her injuries are healing well enough that I’m ready to discharge her.” 

You perk up a bit at this news. You miss home, miss the big comfy bed with the big windows. You miss your garden, and how peaceful it is. Hearing that you might be able to go back to your house with Harry has you more alert than you’ve been in days.

But then the doctor adds, “However, I’m concerned by her mental state. She still hasn’t said anything, and she barely lets anyone touch her. It’s important that her bandages get changed regularly and I’m worried that she won’t allow you to help with that. So until that changes she’ll have to stay here.”

Your heart drops at that. The despair you feel has you finally breaking through and suddenly you say, “No. Home.”

They both look at you and Harry quickly moves to the side of your bed. 

“What was that, baby?” he asks. He looks hopeful and you know that he’s just happy to hear you speak again.

“Home. Please,” you state. It’s hard to talk, full sentences being something you can’t do yet. But you get your point across and Harry looks at the doctor to see what he has to say about this advancement. 

Your doctor comes closer as well and asks, “Will you be okay with Harry helping you at home? He’ll have to touch you to properly clean and bandage your wounds.”

You nod, but you know that alone won’t convince them. Even though it takes a lot of courage to do this, you reach out your hand and grab Harry’s. He gasps at the contact and quickly laces your fingers with his. It feels foreign, and you hate that you no longer feel comfortable holding hands with the person who used to be your safe place. 

Apparently that was the right move, though, because you’re discharged by the end of the day. You get wheeled out, and Harry helps you get from the chair into the car that’s there for you. There’s still an overwhelming part of you that wants to flinch away from his touch, but you tell yourself that he needs this. He needs to be able to help you. 

On the drive, Harry informs you of the updated security the two of you will have. It’s weird to know that there will be people watching the house at all times, but you admit to yourself that it makes you feel better. 

Once you’re finally home you breathe a sigh of relief. And then you get to your room and the exhaustion hits again. 

You sit down on the bed and Harry moves through the house, doing all kinds of things that he thinks will help you. His nervousness is obvious, and you want to tell him you’re okay, that he should relax.

When he focuses on you again he asks, “What can I get for you? What do you need?”

“Bed.” 

“You’re tired? You want to get ready for bed?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay, we can do that. Let me get you some clothes and then we can go brush our teeth together. And I’ll bring up some water and maybe some food in case you wake up hungry since you didn’t eat too much dinner before we left the hospital,” he rambles. It seems that he’s trying to make up for your lack of words by speaking more than usual. 

Harry grabs the clothes and walks over to you. It’s clear that he’s about to help you up and so you quickly stand and walk to the bathroom before he has the chance to touch you. You hate seeing the pain in his eyes at your rejection, but you’re just not ready yet. 

After getting ready you climb into bed. It’s so soft, so comfortable, and so familiar that you quickly fall asleep. 

You wake up with a jolt, your heart racing as the images of your dream race through your mind. The worst part is that it’s not just a made up nightmare, but the memories of the nightmare you actually lived. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks and he reaches out a hand to comfort you. He quickly pulls it back when he sees the way you eye it with fear and trepidation. 

“I can go,” he says. “If you’re uncomfortable with me in the bed I can stay in the next room.”

Immediately you panic at the thought of him going anywhere. “No. Stay. Please. Just, don’t touch,” you reply.

He nods and the two of you sit there in bed next to each other. You begin to cry and Harry fights back tears of his own. 

After a few minutes Harry says, “They wouldn’t let me pay the ransom.”

You turn to him, confused for a moment. And then you realize that he’s explaining why it took so long to get you out. 

“When I got the message from…him. I showed it to the detectives who were here and told them I’d pay immediately so I could get you back. But they wouldn’t let me. Said it would set a precedent and put you in even more danger. Make you a target. That if I listened to this crazy person’s demands and gave him what he wanted, more people might try to take you to get money as well. I hated knowing that they were right. That I couldn’t do the one thing in my power to help you without making life riskier for you. And I hated that you being with me put you in that position in the first place. Y/N, I am so sorry that this happened to you, that it happened because of me.” 

His voice breaks and you sit for another moment absorbing what he’d just said. You didn’t realize before, but now you know that you were mad at him. You were mad that it took so long for them to get you. But everything he said makes sense to you.

And as horrible as the experience was for you, it was awful for him as well. He looks just as exhausted as you are, and though he didn’t deal with the pain and terror that you did, he spent days filled with anxiety and fear and guilt. 

You lay down on your back, looking up and trying to silently send him a message. Once he understands he lays down as well. Slowly, one inch at a time, you shift closer to him. Finally, you turn and lay your hand on his chest. He brings up his hand and places it gently on top of yours.

The touch no longer feels foreign to you. It finally feels comforting again. Building up courage, you move again, lifting your head until you can place it on his chest. This time he doesn’t hesitate, but quickly wraps his free arm around your shoulders, holding you close to him.

For a moment you panic, feeling trapped by him. But then you take a deep breath, inhaling Harry’s distinct smell, and you relax into his hold. 

“I forgive you,” you say quietly. Harry lets out a sob and you squeeze his hand reassuringly. After a moment he controls his tears and regulates his breathing. 

“I love you. So much,” he says.

“I love you too,” you reply.

You know that this isn’t the end. There’s a long road of recovery ahead of you. But being able to lean on Harry, to trust him fully again, you know that you’re going to be okay. He’s going to be there, he’ll help you on the bad days and celebrate the good. 

He begins to quietly sing, filling the room with his familiar and comforting voice. He lulls you back to sleep, but stays up for a while just watching you, reveling in the feeling of having you back in his arms, home where you belong. Safe and sound once again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thank you for reading!

[echobx]

Everyone has a Price (part 2) - Rafe × virgin!fem!reader

summary: y/n gets to know about who Rafe is and they get closer as things start to feel a lot more confusing for both of them

word count: 2.2k

warnings: light miscommunication, tiny tiny bit of angst (maybe), fluff

author's note: see when I said "things would pick up pace" I meant after this one, my bad.

kinktober masterlist ✘ series masterlist

   “What's this?” you ask as Rafe drops a stack of papers on your still empty breakfast plate. First he makes you dress up and drive up to the main house to be allowed to eat, and then he gives you homework?

   “A file. My file,” he says, walking behind you before leaning down over your shoulder, nose brushing past your ear. “You don't like talking about me, but you still gotta know it all to understand why. So, do your work. Build me a case. Impress me,” he rasps, and you wish you weren't turned on by it; by him believing in your potential; by his body so close to your own; by his low voice whispering in your ear. 

   “How much time do I have?” you ask, and he leans back up, but not before letting his fingertips ghost over the skin on your neck, leaving behind a soft trace of goosebumps.

   “Until dinner. I'd like to hear it after in the company of a good glass of Cabernet Sauvignon,” Rafe says while walking along the table and taking his seat. “Then we'll see.” 

   After a fulfilling breakfast, with pancakes and coffee and fruits in abundance, you decide to retreat to his library to work on the little project he gave you. The hours seem to flow as you work through the file and research everything you need to know to build your case, his case. 

   “Dinner is ready, Miss,” someone says from behind you, but you don't even register it, too indulged in your work as if you will be graded on it. But from all you know about Rafe now, that might as well be the case. 

   “If you don't come to dinner, I'm gonna have to bring dinner to you,” Rafe speaks up, putting a plate down on your notes, and you finally lift your head to look up at him. Your hair is messy, and you probably look like you haven't slept in days, although it's only been a few- it's been 14 hours since you had breakfast, but it felt like only four of them had actually passed. 

   “I'm so sorry, I didn't see how late it is,” you apologize and start scrambling your papers together. 

   “Am I that interesting?” he chuckles, as if he doesn't know the answer to that already. His case is far more complex than you expected when he gave you the task. 

   “My mind likes to focus on details. This was complicated. Things don't add up,” you tell him shyly, after all you had just found out you are a lot more weary of him. 

   “Maybe I can shed light on it,” Rafe smiles, taking the papers from your hands and walking over to the fireplace to throw them into the flames. 

   “Hey!” you cry out, jumping to your feet and trying to stop him. 

   “You don't need those anymore,” he stops you from getting to the fire and using the fire poker to save a few yet unburnt pages out of the growing flames. His hands are tight around your wrists, pushing you back as your body keeps pushing forward. 

   “You can't do that! I spent all day on those notes!” you hiss, angry and annoyed and so very mad at this man who is basically holding you hostage if you think about the contract you signed. 

   “My house, my rules,” Rafe smirks, he likes to see you fight and as soon as you notice you stop, unwinding your hands from his loosened grip and taking a step back. “Good. Will you eat now?” 

   You snort disapprovingly, but walk back towards the sofa and take your seat anyway. The turkey sandwich tastes incredible, and you hate everything about it. You hate the fact that you can't be sure how dangerous the man across from you really is. You hate the fact that, even now, you are still incredibly turned on by him. You hate the fact that you don't actually feel that bad about losing all the work, hell, people pulled worse pranks on you in school before. 

   “You don't need to drink it, but it's expensive and one of my favorites,” Rafe says while swirling the red liquid in the bulky glass. 

   “I don't really drink wine,” you say, but take your glass up anyway. Mirroring his movement, you swirl it a bit, take a long whiff and then a small taste of the liquid. 

   “That's blackberry in the head and a bit of vanilla and spices in the back,” Rafe explains the taste that you would rather describe as “not drinkable.”

   “Uh-huh,” you nod, sitting the glass down and pulling your legs up on the sofa. The clock above the fireplace reads 1:27am, usually you'd be asleep for at least two hours at this point. 

   “Am I guilty?” Rafe asks after a few minutes of silence had settled between you two. 

   “That depends on what the charges are,” you say calmly, looking at him just like you would at a client you got assigned in a practice trial once. 

   “What would you say are the charges?” The smile on Rafe's lips is imperceptible.

   “Complicity in one, if not two or more, murders. Drug abuse,��� I said, and he smiled into his glass while taking another sip. 

   “And your verdict on those?” 

   “Well, you grew up rich with little to no consequences for your actions I presume, considering you were probably just like the guys at school who still act like that- I'd say the drug abuse might be rightfully there. I don't know what's your style, but I'm gonna guess either coke or pills, but definitely one of those. Seems like you got clean though a few years back, so I award you that. Most people don't get clean and stay clean,” you say, and he nods, but doesn't say a thing. 

   “The murder thing is tricky, because there is evidence suggesting you were more than just there when it happened, but the statement of the official murderer contradicts this clear evidence. So, unless the evidence is foolproof and one can prove that your dad didn't do it, you'd be guilty of at least one murder.” You finish, and he nods again, but his hand is grasping the glass harsher, his jaw is clenched and there's a dangerous glare in his eyes that almost makes you want to run away from him. Almost.

   “What do you believe?” he says after a few minutes. 

   You take a moment to think, evaluating your situation and the knowledge you have of the case, of him. “If I was your lawyer, I would advise you to plead the 5th unless the question aimed at you will definitely make you seem more innocent. I would tell you to not tell me if you did it, unless you are telling the truth that you didn't, because I don't wanna be prosecuted for lying in court. I would find a way to prove your innocence, even if it means dragging down the rest of your family. Even if you are secretly guilty.” 

   “Why?” he asks, genuinely surprised by your answer. 

   “Because I'm going to be a good lawyer. A lawyer who does her job and serves her clients. I can't afford to be nice and 100% lawful. If I have to play dirty, I have to play dirty. I can still be a good person later, once I have my own firm and enough money to not care,” you tell him about what you had always planned for your future. Usually people are disgusted by the way you view the world, but Rafe doesn't. He looks even more intrigued by you than the night before. 

   “Well, then you should get your degree asap,” he smiles, getting up from his seat and walking over to you. “May I?” he asks, and you nod before he sits down by your side.

   “Are you scared?” he asks, eyes raking over you as you sit there, hands placed on your knees and staring out front. 

   “No,” you lie, and he chuckles. 

   “I don't like when you lie to me, but I understand. I would be scared too.”

   “What are you going to do now?” you ask and turn your head to look at him. 

   “I need you to know that I will never hurt you, not unless you ask for it,” Rafe whispers, brushing your hair away from your face. “So, there's really no need to be scared about that part.” 

   “I understand,” you nod, looking down at the glimpse of chest that is poking through the buttoned gaps of his shirt. 

   “And I think I would love to replace my lawyer with you as soon as you're done,” he says, and your eyes go wide. 

   “Uhhhh- What?” 

   “You heard me,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw. “I need someone I can trust, someone who will do what I say unless they know better. You don't like being told what to do.” Rafe's smile is intoxicating, drawing you in like a trap. It's like he's dangling a delicious piece of Gruyère in front of your face and your tiny mouse brain cannot do anything but grasp for it. 

   That's why you don't mind when he leans in to kiss you, tentatively letting you know that he will keep you safe no matter what it takes. And against better judgment, you believe it. You taste the wine and a hint of his dinner on his tongue, a different one than the one you had. Yet, you can't help but feel like he is holding back to not overwhelm you. His hands never leave your neck, and yours never travel from your seat to his chest to pull him in, even though you wish for it. Deliberation seems to be your and his virtue that night when he pauses and lets you catch your breath before standing up and telling you goodnight. 

   Grayson talks about the stars while driving you back to the pool house, but your mind is occupied with what happened. You spend most of the night lying in bed, throwing yourself from left to right trying to find sleep, while your mind won't stop reminiscing over how it felt to kiss him. 

   When you started corresponding with Rafe, you thought it would be easy. You thought he would invite you, take your virginity and send you back home with a bag full of cash. What you definitely w

could've never expected, is to lie awake imagining being with him based on a simple kiss. The last time this happened to you, you were 17 and in high school, after your first kiss with Tyler D. from Biology class, but nothing had come of that, because if it had, you wouldn't be here now. 

   It's 4am when the landline phone on your nightstand rings. 

   “I can't sleep,” Rafe says quietly, and you don't know if you are dreaming or not. 

   “Me neither,” you whisper into the mouthpiece. It's exactly how your 16-year-old self had imagined Tyler to be, just that Rafe Cameron is nearly 30 and you are still in college. 

   “This isn't going like I had planned it,” he laughs softly, and you feel your cheeks heat. 

   “How so?” You gnaw at your lip as you listen to him, your eyes closed and picturing him by your side instead of on the other side of the phone. 

   “Well, I thought I was just saving you from a horrible experience with a guy I know, and maybe, if you wanted to, and only then to actually do something. But you are more intriguing than initially expected.” 

   “I didn't even say much,” you giggle. 

   “That's the worst part,” Rafe sighs. “You should talk more.” 

   “I talk when I find it necessary,” you say and turn to lie on your stomach, twirling some of your hair between your fingers. 

   “You never tried the set on,” Rafe rasps, and you stay quiet for a moment, debating what the right move would be. “I would come down there right now and make you wear it, but we're not there, yet, I'm afraid,” he says, and you take a deep breath before getting up and stepping towards the dresser that still had the box on top of it. 

   “How expensive was this?” you ask, the phone is wedged between your shoulder and chin as you push the lid of the box back and pull the underwear out. 

   “You would want me to return it if you knew,” Rafe chuckles. “Will you put it on?” 

   “Will you show me around tomorrow?” you counter and he laughs. 

   “Sure. I'll show you around.” 

   “Good. Maybe I'll put it on then. Not now,” you grin when you hear him groan, falling back into his pillows with a loud thud, while you put the underwear on the bench at the end of the bed. 

   “You're killing me,” Rafe sighs. 

   “Says the killer,” you joke, but he goes quiet for a while. “It was a joke, Rafe,” you apologize, but a moment later the line disconnects and no matter how often you try to call him back, he won't pick up. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @hoe4sunarin @m2m2m2 @mochimms @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @jjmaybankssurfergf @because-i-like-toxic-men @rafeeekam @carolinaxvz

[skz-akira]

“𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞? 𝐢'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲.”

summary: idol!felix x non idol!reader, female reader author note: not proof read ! it took way longer than i expected and in my opinion it’s not the best piece i’ve written but thank you for reading anyways and supporting me ;-; request: @savebangchan1997

you wanted to be happy for him. you really did, but as you watched your boyfriend openly flirt with the girl on the television, the only feelings that arose inside of you were fury and jealousy. 

she was beautiful. she was perfect. she was everything you weren’t, and you hated her for it. it was unfair and you knew it, the way you despised her, but you couldn’t help it. especially not with the way felix’s eyes drifted across her body, a faint smile on his lips. 

you tore your eyes away from the screen, closing them tightly. you could already see the fans making edits about your boyfriend and her. you felt another stab of anger. sure, your relationship with felix was a secret, but he was practically checking her out in front of everyone. 

you hated everything. you hated felix for acting like this, and you hated her because she was better than you. prettier. hotter. when you looked at her, you saw everything you weren’t, and you hated yourself for it.

underneath your jealousy, a part of you knew that felix deserved better. he was an idol and you were a girl. compared to the idols he got to see everyday, you were nothing.

“baby, i’m home!” felix peeked into the living room where sitting, watching a television show without much interest. you turned around, and he gave you a slightly drained smile, “were you watching me?”

you nodded, searching his eyes for any guilt, but he only beamed at you. “how was i? did i look handsome?”

“that girl seemed to think so.” your voice came out icy cold to your own surprise.

felix frowned, turning around to look behind him, as if trying to see who you were talking about. “what girl?”

you bunched your hands together, the pent up mixture of jealousy and anger coursing through your veins. “the girl you were on tv with. you seemed to get along pretty well with her.”

felix’s smile dropped. “baby… we’re friends. we have to like each other, or pretend to like each other if we’re hosting a show together.”

you crossed you arms, glaring at him. “so you were pretending to check her out?”

felix’s eyes widened as they met yours, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of fear. “i wasn’t!”

you glowered at him distrustfully. “really.”

felix scoffed at your expression. “honestly, baby. you always get so defensive. i go on tv with female idols all the time.”

“and i hate it.” you choked out. “i hate it!”

he shook his head, annoyance flashing across his features. “why? why can’t you just be happy for me?”

i wish i could. i wish i was pretty like all of the idols you get to see.

“if you would stop feeling jealous all of the time, maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable!” he yelled.

you took a step back, your head spinning as if he had physically hit you.

“you’re being immature, you know?” felix continued angrily, taking your silence as a sign of defiance. “you’re acting like i’m going to leave you or something.”

“that’s exactly what i think!” you burst out. your throat constricted and you were vaguely aware of your short, ragged breaths.

felix stared at you in shock. “what?”

“that’s exactly what i think every time you go on camera with other idols!” 

felix shook his head, as if unable to comprehend your words. “why?”

“because… because…” you were crying openly now, your tears leaving dark bruises on the tiles. “i’m nothing like them. the pretty idols you get to see everyday. i’m ugly, and basic, and… and…”

if you looked up, you would’ve seen the regret flashing across his face. you would’ve see how much his heart hurt, seeing you cry like this. his arms wrapped around you, and before you could register what he was doing, he pulled you into a tight embrace. your head rested on his chest, breathing in his familiar scent as you shoulders shook with sobs. ugly. stupid. immature. you didn’t deserve him.

“you’re perfect.” he whispered in your ear, his voice soft. “i promise.”

of course he would say that. he’s just saying it to make you feel better. and you didn’t deserve to.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t notice that you felt this way.” he continued, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “you need to tell me when you… if you feel bad, okay baby?”

“didn’t want you to… think i was being dramatic.” you sniffed.

“never.” he said, still rubbing your back. “i’m sorry for acting insensitive, but i would never disregard your feelings. i didn’t know how you felt.”

you nodded, although you didn’t want his apology. “i’m sorry too. for overreacting.”

felix chuckled, stroking your hair. “we were both tired. and grumpy.”

“mostly me.” you mumbled into his chest.

he looked down at you, his eyes shining with emotion. “i yelled at you. i could never forgive myself for that.”

you shrugged. 

“y/n.” he cupped your face in his hands, making you look at him. his eyes were earnest and warm, and you thought again about how you didn’t deserve him. “please. stop forgiving me so easily. i… i honestly think i don’t deserve it. and most of all, stop hating yourself. it’s not healthy.”

when you didn’t say anything, he added, “of course, i know, it’s not that easy. but please, talk to me. i just want to help you.”

you didn’t deserve him.

“i love you.” he pressed, meeting your eyes. “let me help the woman i love.”

you nodded slowly. 

“thank you.” he pressed a small kiss to your head. “do i get an i love you as well?”

“of course i love you, silly.”

[lynzishell]

The Present ❤️ Selvadorada

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

Asher: Are you just gonna stand there and stare over my shoulder? Atlas: Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you. Asher: You’re fine, what’s up? Atlas: I think I got everything. We should get going soon. Asher: Okay, I’m ready. Let’s do it.

Asher: You know I was kidding when I said you had to carry everything. I can help. Atlas: It’s okay, I got it. Asher: Alright, I’m not gonna fight ya for it, but if you change your mind, let me know. Atlas: I will. Aren’t you bringing your sketchbook? Asher: Nah. I need a break.

Asher: There’s an awful lot of warnings on this sign. Atlas: There’s a lot to be wary of out here, but we have everything we need, and then some. We’ll be fine. Asher: If you say so. I am mildly concerned that it warns of various things that can poison you, but you if you get poisoned, you have a find a local with an antidote. Why wouldn’t we just go to the hospital Atlas: It really says that? Asher: Yes! Atlas: Well, the people who work at the hospital are local, so I’m sure they could still help us. But, just to be on the safe side, try not to get poisoned. Asher: No promises.

Asher: So, what’s the deal with those skeletons, or guards, or whatever, that we saw at the museum yesterday? Did you really have a dream about them? Atlas: I think so. Or something like them at least. All I remember is three skeletons, and the eyes of the one in the middle were glowing red. Asher: You don’t remember anything else? Atlas: [shakes head] I didn’t even remember that much until yesterday.

Asher: What do you think Sam meant by that curse? That they turn your greatest wish into your nightmare? Atlas: I don’t know. Honestly, I think he makes up half the stuff he says on those tours just for fun. Asher: [laughs] Probably. I would. Gotta keep the days interesting somehow. Atlas: Exactly.

Asher: It does make me curious though. What would your greatest wish be? Atlas: I don’t know. I want lots of things. I want to finish this game, and I want it to do well. I want our company to be successful so that we never have to work for anyone but ourselves ever again. Asher: We still need a name for it, by the way. We can’t register without a name. Atlas: I know. We’ll think of something. We have time.

Asher: Okay, but would you really want those things to happen just by wishing for them? Atlas: No, I wouldn’t. The best part is building it together. Asher: So then, let’s say a genie pops up and gives you one wish, what would it be? Atlas: I thought genies were supposed to give you three wishes. Asher: Well, this one’s a dick, so you only get one. Atlas: [laughs] Right, okay.

Asher: Well? Atlas: If I tell you what it is, you’ll just tell me I shouldn’t wish for it. Asher: [sighs] That’s really what you would use your wish for?

Atlas: Yes. I’m sorry, but I would. My biggest regret is all the time I wasted when we first met, all the unnecessary pain I caused. And, I get it, everything worked out in the end, and I’m grateful for that. But, given the opportunity, I would one hundred percent go back and do it all over again.

Asher: You’re infuriating sometimes, you know that? Atlas: Yes.

Asher: There’s got to be better… um, Atlas, what’s that sound? Atlas: It’s the reason we came out here, the place I wanted us to see. Don’t worry, the water is far enough away, but how are you with heights? Asher: Usually fine. How high are we talking? Atlas: Just don’t look down.

Asher: Holy shit. This is amazing. Atlas: Right? It’s even better than I expected. Asher: Is that one of the temples? Atlas: It must be. What’s left of it anyway.

Atlas: So, what about you? What’s your greatest wish? Asher: Oh, that’s easy. My only wish is to be with you forever. No matter what happens in life, as long as I’m with you, I’m happy.

[https-milo]

the baker's daughter - 400 cupcakes

WORK SYNOPSIS Y/n L/n works at a small bakery owned by her parents. One day, a pro hero in training shows up asking for 400 cupcakes.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Chapter 1 - 400 Cupcakes

masterlist / next chapter

The bell above the door rang, alerting me someone was entering the bakery. "Hello! Good afternoon, how may I help you?" I ask. The man who entered had split hair, one side was white and the other was red. His eyes were different too. On his right he had a dark grey eye, and on his left was an ice blue. The left side of his face was scarred around his eye and down his cheek. Another thing I notice is his U.A. uniform. I quirk an eyebrow at this, knowing the uniform was always a sure sign of a quirk-user.

"Good afternoon. I have a question, it's very sudden," the boy said.

"Shoot!" I said with a smile. The boy tilts his head, not getting my words. "Oh uh, ask away..?" The boy nods.

"How fast can you make 400 cupcakes?"

I choke on my spit, "S-sorry?"

"400 cupcakes, how much and how long?"

"I uh, would have to ask my parents," I answer. "They should be in the back, I'll go get them."

The boy nods and I leave the cash register to the kitchen where my mom is baking and my dad decorating pastries. I knock on the wooden doorframe before entering. "There's a boy up front asking for 400 cupcakes," I explain.

"Sweetie, what did we say about believing scams?" Mom sighed.

"Hey! That was one time!" I pout. "But I think this one is serious, he's wearing a U.A. uniform. You know how the people from that school are."

"Quirk havers? Probably thought he was being kind going to a quirkless business," Dad grumbled. Mom looked at him with empathy. The three of us were judged harshly for our lack of quirks, we weren't 'ideal' in the current society. That angered my father.

"I'll go see what he wants, you stay here, F/N," Mom sweetly said. She rubbed his shoulder soothingly and walked out of the kitchen with me.

"Hi, my daughter tells me you're interested in 400 cupcakes?" My mom greeted him.

"Yes, that's correct. How much would that be and how long would that take?" The boy replied.

"Well, it'll run you almost 82 thousand yen..." Mom hesitantly said, knowing the price would scare most people off.

"Doesn't matter. I just need them in time for the U.A. School Festival," The boy said.

"Oh so you're rich-rich," I mumble to myself. The boy must've heard as he looked at me confused. My mom lightly hit my arm. I roll my eyes playfully.

"Well... that's two weeks away. We should have enough time!" Mom answered. "We do a half payment upfront and you pay us the rest once you collect the cupcakes."

"I can pay it all at once, it's no trouble," the boy said. He pulled out a black credit card. I looked at my mom and she shared my same thought "money, money, money".

"Right, that'll be... 81,700 yen," my mom said. She entered the price in the register and turned the card reader to face the customer.

Silently, he put the card in and used the PIN number. The satisfying ding of the payment going through made the workers at the shop elated. "Right! Thank you. If you could leave your name and number, my daughter will contact you for information regarding what you want." Mom explained. She offered over a pen and a notepad.

"Sure," the boy said. He grabbed the pen and paper and wrote his information on it.

"Thank you again... Todoroki," Mom said, her eyes widened when she read his last name. He nodded and walked out. Mom turned to face me, she had a mischievous smile on her face. I knew what she was up to.

"My daughter will contact you," I mocked. "REALLY MOM?!" My face flushed with color as I covered my face in embarrassment.

"Just trying to set my baby up!" Mom teased. "But you really should message him, we kind of need to know what to make."

"I can't believe he paid up front like that..." I said amazed.

"Right?! Didn't ask for proof or previous works... paid just like that."

"Why'd you look surprised at his name?"

"Todoroki is the last name of the number 1 pro hero."

"All.. Might..?" I was never really caught up on heroes. The prospect never interested me. Being a hero was a dream I could never chase. All because of the extra joint in my pinky toe.

"No. All Might retired. Endeavor!"

"Oh cool," I reply. Mom rolls her eyes. I stick out my tongue and pull out my phone. I put Todoroki's number from the paper into my contacts.

I showed Mom the messages. "Music-related, huh?" "I think it's kinda cool," I defended. She hummmed. "I'll work something up with your dad. Why don't you head upstairs?" She offered. "I can help you know!" I groan. "I know you can. But you also have a bunch of homework," Mom countered. "What's the point? I mean, I'm probably just going to end up working here for the rest of my life." "I don't want that for you, hun. This was mine and your father's dream, it doesn't have to be yours too." I sigh, "Fine. Goodnight, Mom. I love you." "I love you too."

I walk upstairs to the living area my parents and I reside. I open my bedroom door and flop onto my bed. I didn't bother doing my homework, instead I just stared at the ceiling. I thought back to the customer. He wasn't bad-looking at all. I hope I get to see him again. Well I mean I will, but maybe (and hopefully) not in the context of buying cupcakes at my parents' bakery.

© https-milo. please do not repost, steal, copy, or modify my works!

Thank you so much for reading <3

[bangtanficsforyou]

Vérités Cachées (JJK)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader.

Summary: You try to make an escape from a beast, that you happen to have encountered while on a vacation with your boyfriend.

Genre: fluff, mild angst, smut.

Word count: 8K (it was supposed to be a 1K drabble)

Warnings: steamy stuff, or^l (f receiving), ti^^y sucking, fing^^^ng p in v s^x, mild d^^ty talk if it counts, s^x out in the wild (against a tree to be very specific) (p.s: it feels so awkward writing it with all the '^' but idk man apparently Tumblr flags it or something otherwise? And I have seen other writers do the same, so yeah)

Based on this request.

Masterlist

If you enjoy my writing consider supporting my patreon!

Faster. Just a little bit faster. 

"Stop."

The leaves scrunch underneath your feet as you try to work them as fast as you possibly can. 

"Stop!"

You have lost track of how long you have been running. All you know is that your knees feel weak and they are this close to giving out. 

But you cannot stop. 

"Y/N, stop."

No matter what you do Y/N, do not stop. 

Your lungs beg you to take a break and let them have their share of oxygen. Your throat runs dry and the saliva you have been gulping a little too frequently is just not enough anymore. These things should have been enough of a sign for you to realise that even if you willfully don't give up, your body will. 

And that is exactly what happens the very next moment. 

You feel a sharp pain in your left leg. The muscles cramp in protest and make it impossible for you to keep your pace up. You falter and somehow limp to lean against a tree for support. 

Your mind goes to lactic acid and how lack of oxygen can have your muscles doing anaerobic breakdown. Geez, you should have gone to the gym and have been a little more familiar with physical exercises. Maybe then your body wouldn't have burnt out this easily. 

You try to move your legs and examine the damage. The good thing is the cramp doesn't seem severe, the discomfort should be gone soon. The bad news is, for the recovery to be fast, you need to take deep breaths and relax for the lactic acid to be washed from your system.

All these calculative thoughts are brought to a stop when you hear footsteps approaching. Shit. 

You bend down and take hold of a piece of rock, the only thing available that can be used as a weapon. 

"Y/N," a breathy voice reaches your ears and a figure soon comes into sight. 

The figure happens to be of someone you know very well. Jungkook's. Your boyfriend.

Which is the absolute worst part. 

The man comes closer to you with his eyes locked on yours and you notice the fury in them.

A shiver runs down your spine and you raise the stone in a threatening manner. "You come one step closer and I'll hit you with this."

The man doesn't react in any manner. Almost as if the words don't register, as if he's in a world of his own. 

He doesn't stop walking towards you which makes you hold the piece of rock firmly, ready to aim. However, he suddenly is a little too close to you and with one flick of his hand, he manages to throw your so-called weapon to the ground, leaving you defenceless. 

You don't even try to hide how terrified you feel like this, all weaponless against something you don't even properly know what it is. 

You're about to plead for your life when he speaks. 

"Are you okay?" 

The voice. Even the voice is an exact replica of Jungkook's. Whatever this man is, he sure as hell is dangerous if he can imitate a person this flawlessly. Lord knows what other tricks he has up his sleeves. 

You don't answer his question for you know he could possibly not have any interest in your well-being. 

"What are you? Why are you chasing me?" 

Something about your shaky voice has a visible effect on him and he puts a little distance between the two of you. It's enough for you to release the breath you were holding but you also don't miss how he keeps a close eye on your movements for any time you try to escape. 

"I–I am Jungkook," the man speaks and despite the stutter in his words, he speaks with confidence. 

You manage a weak scoff. "As if I'd ever believe that. Do you think I didn't see? You think you can fool me?"

"What did you see?" His senses go full-on alert.

"I know–" you look away from the man in fear when the scene replays in your mind, "–I know you are no ordinary human. You're a beast."

You don't know what happens next, for there's a pause. A pause, that is long enough for you to hope that he's gone. You would have liked to check if your assumptions were right had you not been this scared to open your eyes. 

However, you do not have to keep guessing for much longer, for moments later there's a hand being placed under your chin, which slowly and gently guides you to turn your head towards the man.

"Open your eyes."

Initially, you don't oblige. You keep your eyes tightly shut. But as the silence lingers and the hand under your chin refuses to leave, you open your left eye to take a peek. 

All you see is the man looking at you with the same intense gaze, something burning bright behind those orbs that intimidates you to no end. Aside from that, you also deduce that he's not in the mood of giving up. He seemingly wants to talk to you or worse, wants to do something to you and is willing to wait for it. 

You think it's rather wise to cooperate with him while he's still calm and patient. Maybe that way, you'll be able to fool him and while given the chance, make an escape. That way you will also buy yourself time for your muscles to relax and recover.

You slowly open your eyes, apprehensive of what he might do next. 

He only repeats his previous statement. "I need you to believe me when I say, I'm Jungkook. The same Jungkook you have known for so long."

You know you shouldn't argue with him. You're in no position to take the risk of igniting a fire you know you'll not be able to put off. But despite your logical reasoning, you feel deeply irked with this man's audacity to claim he's Jungkook. Just how dare he? 

Against, your better judgement, all thoughts of cooperating with the man are forgotten.

"I do not believe you for a second." 

"I don't blame you for it. But I need you to give me the time to explain myself," he speaks in the same calm, confident tone. "Stop panicking, I won't cause you any harm–"

"What are you?" You interrupt him, mid-sentence, knowing you need to have some idea of what he is for you to consider his words of not harming you, seriously. 

For the first time, he looks away, "I'm a werewolf." 

Werewolf. So now you know, what this man is. 

You search your brain for all the information that you have ever come across about werewolves. How dangerous are they? Do they eat human flesh? Do they murder people? 

The more you come up with questions and their respective answers, you realise that none of these answers are reliable for all you know about werewolves are solely based on fictional books or movies. There's no guarantee that anything these movies and books portray is anything barely similar to the way a real werewolf is.

How can it be anything close to the real thing, when werewolves were supposed to be completely fictional? Heck, you wouldn't have believed it had you not seen it yourself. 

You sigh when you realise despite now having the crucial information about him, you literally know nothing. You are still as vulnerable as you were before. 

"Can I speak now?" 

You look at him and reply with a nod. You may not know how reliable his promise of safety is but as long he's talking, you're safe.

"I don't mean to cause you any harm, I'd never. I understand why you're so scared but let me...let me just explain."

You nod again, urging him to speak. 

"Some werewolves, like me, live among humans considering that there isn't much forest left in these areas and if we were to move to rural places, it would cause a problem for the werewolves living there. It also increases the chances of gaining unnecessary attention.

I have always lived quietly and never interacted with humans unless necessary. But I had to join the company because apparently there was a documentary on werewolves being made which had footage of real werewolves. A few of us were assigned the job to stop the documentary from being made available to the public."

As a journalist, if there's one thing you have learned over the years, it's the ability to tell when a person is lying. And somehow according to your analysis, he isn't. 

However, you shoot that thought down telling yourself he's not a human. He's a werewolf, lord knows what they can do. You're used to interacting with people who lie, not with supernatural beings. 

"If I had to get a hold of the files and clips, I had to interact with people. I had to get friendly with them and had to get as much information as I could. Which is how I started talking to you."

The mention catches your attention. 

"I was not supposed to fall for you but I did. I did not realise that at some point I had started talking to you not in order to get information out but because I genuinely wanted to. I looked forward to meeting you, talking to you and spending time with you. I fell for you when I was not supposed to.

Falling was a different thing but dating was a whole other story. I simply, simply did not know how to tell you the truth. When we started dating, I was far too deep. I wanted to call you mine and take you places but at the same time, there was this guilt gnawing at me for hiding my true nature from you. 

However, when you said that you were in love with me, that was the day that I decided I would do whatever it takes to protect us. Even if it means not telling you the truth." 

The man stops, probably done with what he had to say. However, you find his words extremely suspicious. How can you not? The man you have known and loved for a whole year, suddenly turns out to be a werewolf? As if you wouldn't have caught it sooner had it been the case. 

You try to move your leg a little to check the condition of your cramp but you make sure that your movements are subtle so that it doesn't catch his attention. You find a bit of relief when you realise that the majority of the pain has subsided.

"Let's say what you're saying is true, how come I have never caught you before?" 

"We werewolves do not shift that much. Irrespective of what TVs and films may have made you believe, we do not turn into a wolf against our wishes on a full moon night. If we do change into a wolf, it's only when we want and choose to do so."

You furrow your brows. "You mean you chose to turn into a wolf today? It wasn't an accident?"

He nods. "I booked a vacation in the middle of a forest because it is comforting for the wolf in me to be here. I wanted to just turn into a wolf and go around for a stroll. Never did I think you'd end up seeing me in the middle of a transformation."

You look away when you realise he's done answering. You need to come up with another question, something, anything to keep him occup–

"You do not believe me." 

His words catch you by surprise and you gulp in fear. You cannot let him know that you're not playing whatever game he's playing, who knows it might just make him lose his cool. You can't have that. It's better to play dumb. 

"That's not true, I am just trying to piece the puzzle together."

The man scoffs with a small chuckle. "You think I can't tell when you lie? I've known you for a long enough time to be able to do that." 

Oh shit. 

"I understand that you're in total disbelief. As if learning werewolves exist wasn't enough, you also learnt your... boyfriend is one. That can't be easy." 

You still do not believe his words but nod nevertheless. 

He gently puts your hands in his and his thumb fiddles with the promise ring that Jungkook had given you. 

That's weird. Jungkook used to do that whenever he was nervous and needed to calm down. 

No, no, no. Just because he is fiddling with your promise ring doesn't mean he's Jungkook. He can't be. 

You withdraw your hand from his and look at him with a determination that you didn't have before, a little annoyed with yourself for considering the possibility that this man might just be Jungkook. "I do not know who you are and what you want from me but I know one thing and that is, you're not Jungkook." 

"What can I do to make you believe me?" 

You shake your head vigorously. "You cannot be Jungkook. My Jungkook is gentle, sweet, and caring. You seemed so scary, my Jungkook is not like that." 

"Please look at me," after your withdrawal from him, he does not choose to make you look at him. He realises that irrespective of how gentle he might have been, you may still be uncomfortable with it. Thankfully, you do look at him even if it's after, what seemed to be a moment of contemplation. "I am so sorry that you had to find out this way. But I promise despite my appearance as a wolf, I am still the same Jungkook you know. There's nothing that you don't know about me."

Something about his eyes makes it impossible for you to look away. Maybe it's just the strong emotion that shines through his orbs but for the first time, you notice that his eyes aren't filled with fury. 

Out of both curiosity and anxiety, you keep your eyes fixed on his' to understand what exactly is it he's feeling. 

A few moments later, you still keep looking. Not because you can't figure out the emotion being reflected in his orbs but rather because you can and you think it simply cannot be so. You must be seeing it wrong. Because what you see is......fear. A lot of fear. He's terrified. 

But that can't be it. Why would a werewolf who's been filled with fury, suddenly be so scared? Unless...unless, he wasn't furious in the first place and it was your fight or flight mode that had made it look like he was furious. 

Does that mean he has been terrified from the very beginning? 

"What...what do you want from me?" Your question comes from a place of confusion. So far you had been under the assumption that this man wants to harm you. But if that were the case, why is he so scared? Things aren't adding up! 

"I just want you to realise that I'm Jungkook." 

His words play on repeat in your mind. That's the only thing he's been claiming since the beginning, that he is Jungkook. 

"Why would Jungk–No, Jungkook would have told me if he was a werewolf. He would have never kept it hidden." 

"Maybe Jungkook was too scared that he'd lose you and you'd stop seeing him with love. That the love and adoration you have for him will turn into fear."

He looks like his whole world is falling apart and he's barely holding on. 

Fear. This is the source of his fear. This is exactly what he's been so terrified of.

You frown in a state of confusion that turns out to be painful for you. Could this man really be Jungkook? Is Jungkook, him? Are they the same person? 

"Would it be so bad if Jungkook were to be a werewolf?" The question is asked softly, a little too softly for your liking and your head spins as it only confuses you even further for you once again, entertain the possibility.

Jungkook. Your sweet, cute, bunny-eyed Jungkook whom you love so much, is a werewolf? It's absurd because you still can't make peace with the fact that werewolves are real. But if it is the Jungkook you know and have grown to love, would it matter? You don't think so. But it's not a question of whether Jungkook is a werewolf. Right now, it's a question about whether this man, who's a werewolf, is Jungkook. 

You calmly go through everything he has said so far. Him, joining the company because he had to stop a documentary from being released, which could threaten the truth about werewolves being released to the common public. You recall how he was when he joined, he was distant, and his conversations looked forced as if he was doing it because he doesn't have any other choice. Or the way he was a little too curious about the itsy bitsy details, that no one else paid mind to. Even the time you had found him going through a series of tapes from the office room. Could it all be because he was trying to gather information about the documentary? Could he be saying the truth?  

"What happened to the documentary then, did you get a hold of it?" 

The man shakes his head. "As it turns out, no such documentary existed in the first place. It was just a rumour which had gotten out of hand." 

You immediately shoot him with another question. "Why then, are you still working in our company?" 

He chews on the inside of his cheeks, contemplating if you'd even believe his answer. "Because of you." 

Something entirely unexpected happens. Your heart skips a beat. In the midst of all the confusion and fear, your traitor heart skips a beat! 

You immediately scold yourself for it. What if he's lying to you? What if he's not actually Jungkook?

But, the way he's looking at you....it's the same way Jungkook looks at you. How can it feel like Jungkook if he's not Jungkook? This man could be lying and pulling stories out of his ass but his eyes? What do they say about eyes being the window to the soul? If so, why does it remind you of Jungkook so much? 

You shut your eyes close tightly and ask him a question as your last resort. "Tell me something only Jungkook would know."

It doesn't even take him a second and words come pouring out of his mouth. "You like your noodles a little less boiled because that's the way your mom cooked them. You like it when it rains because the weather comforts you. You enjoy it when I play with your hair because you find it soothing. You haven't talked to your brother for months after that fight even though you really want to. You have a little scar on your thighs from the time–"

"You're Jungkook," you whisper to yourself, finding your walls crumbling and your guard lowering. There's no way anyone except Jungkook would know these things. 

Jungkook is hit with a tremendous wave of relief which you do not miss. His body visibly reacts as if a huge bag of stone has been lifted off his shoulders.

"I am Jungkook," he whispers back, repeating your words to confirm what you have just said. As if he cannot believe that he has managed to make you trust him. "I am sorry you had to find out this way,"

"You really are a werewolf? You always have been a werewolf? Every time we have talked, you were a werewolf?" 

Your set of questions causes Jungkook to get nervous again and he takes a step back. Now feeling sure that you won't try to run away from him, he only manages a weak nod as an answer to all of your questions.  

"Wow," your mouth forms an 'o' as you let all of it sink in. Jungkook is a werewolf. Your Jungkook is a werewolf. "I wish you had told me sooner."

"I was so scared I'd lose you," he mutters, his voice wavering, all the confidence and firmness he was showing before, now gone. It's only now that your previous thoughts are confirmed that he's been this scared from the very beginning and you realise his confidence was merely a facade to calm you down. "You being scared of me is an absolute nightmare." 

You don't speak for a moment. Now that you feel like you aren't in danger, you take a few seconds to observe him. He is nervous, that much is obvious. But it's the little details about him that call for your attention. You know how he avoids eye contact when he feels small, you know how he runs his tongue against the inside of his cheek when he feels annoyed with himself and you know how he craves to have some part of his body to be in touch with yours because it grounds him. His clenched fists are a sign enough, that he wants to hold onto you, but is resorting with every fibre of his being.

Looking at him now, you wonder how you had not noticed these things before. How you could, even for a moment, think that he was not Jungkook. It's him, everything about him is Jungkook. 

He is Jungkook. Your Jungkook. 

You take a step towards him, to reduce the distance he had put between the two of you. 

"I think the fact that you're a werewolf hasn't quite sunk in, a part of me still is in disbelief," you place your palms against his cheeks and hold his face gently. "But something in my heart tells me you're my Jungkook and that's all that matters. Werewolf, vampire, human, I don't care."

Jungkook closes his eyes and releases a shaky exhale. "Can I hug you?"

You wrap your arms around him and let your head rest against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat washes away any remaining doubts or anxiety you might have had as you relax in his warmth that is so familiar. 

Jungkook goes completely limp in your hold as he too wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tightly. He lets go of all the tension in his body and the both of you stand there in the middle of a forest embracing each other. 

You would have liked to stay like that a little longer but a sniffle from Jungkook makes you break the embrace. You look at him to find his eyes misty. Jungkook saves you from asking the reason behind his watery eyes, as he himself tells you. 

"I thought you wouldn't believe me and that you'd find me disgusting and unappealing," he confesses. "I didn't know what to do to make you see that I'm the same Jungkook. The way you were scared, scared me." 

You run your fingers through his hair, knowing it has a soothing effect on him as well. "When I saw you transforming, I was scared but it was because I never even imagined that it was you. I thought it was some scary supernatural being that wanted to harm me."

"And you're not disgusted to know that I am, in a way, partially a wolf?" 

The way his voice sounds so small and unsure pulls at your heartstrings and urges you to comfort him. Placing a soft peck of reassurance, you smile against his lips. "Nah, you're still my cute little baby."

Jungkook looks surprised as he looks at you with wide eyes, not having expected that action from you. You giggle seeing his expression. He's your cute little baby, indeed.

His expression turns into that of shyness and a blush appears on his cheeks. "Could you do that again?" 

You laugh and the very next moment kiss him again. Your lips mould against his as you kiss him gently, silently apologising for scaring him like that. You kiss him with passion in hopes that it eases his anxiety and makes him feel reassured that you still love him the same. 

Jungkook kisses you with a softness that is desperate and needy at the same time. He needs it to fully relax into the fact that you're here, right in front of him and that you haven't left him. He needs to let it sink that you're kissing him with the same amount of love that you always have, that him being a werewolf, doesn't come in the way of your love. 

However, when he feels that reassurance hit him, he pulls you impossibly closer and his kissing starts getting harder. It holds the same amount of desperation, as before but this time Jungkook holds onto you tightly as if he's scared to ever let go of you, again. He feels like he needs to apologise to you, needs to love you better than he did before and most importantly needs to express how incredibly grateful he is for you sticking with him.

He could literally worship you right now. 

A brief fleeting thought occurs in his mind as to what were to happen if he were to get down on his knees and make you scream his name in the middle of this forest? 

That thought is a tell-tale sign that he should pull away, because with each passing second that your lips remain on his', the thought becomes a little less fleeting. 

With a groan that has your heartbeat accelerating, Jungkook pulls away and smiles at you. "We should head back." 

Your breathing had just started to get faster, your chest had just started to heave and the wave of excitement that makes goosebumps rise all over your skin, had just started to take over. The prospect of having Jungkook in a way where he doesn't have to hide himself makes you curious and crave that intimacy.

"We could head back a little later, we have time until it gets dark," you suggest lightly with a shrug. 

Jungkook looks confused at your suggestion. "What do you want to do staying here?"

"I don't know, maybe we could kiss a little more," you suggest with a shy smile on your face. 

"While that does sound nice, I do not think it's a good idea." 

"Why not?"

"Because I might get greedy and end up wanting to do unspeakable things to you," Jungkook reasons, trying to be the voice of logic.

 "Who says I do not want to do that already?" 

There are a million questions in Jungkook's mind. Would you be okay with it, when you were so scared moments ago? Would you be comfortable with it? Would you regret it later?

You get on your tiptoes and press a small kiss on his cheek, having noticed the concern on his face. "I want you, trust me."

"Are you sure?"

You nod with a reassuring smile.

The glint that takes over his eyes, makes a shiver run down your spine. It's a look you have seen plenty of times, one that you're extremely familiar with.

However, you sense he's still hesitant. Taking a step closer, you make the first move and kiss him hard. Starting it slow be damned, you want him to know the desire you hold for him. 

Anything that might have been holding Jungkook back, disappears. He holds you by your waist and pulls you closer. Groaning into your mouth, he bites into your lower lip before capturing it passionately between his lips to soothe any sting the action might have caused. 

Your desire increases and you gently prod his lips with your tongue, eagerly waiting for him to let you in. As soon as he does, you could not be more delighted, something which is made extremely obvious by how excitedly your tongue greets Jungkook's. 

There's no battle of dominance. Rather, both of your tongues entangle together as if dancing to their favourite song.

Your body starts to feel hot and you keep feeling the need to have him closer. When you part your mouth from his, it's not because you've run out of air, it's because you need to feel more of him. 

An emotion which Jungkook replicates. 

"You'd need support," his breathy voice reaches your ears. 

"That's what the tree is for," you reply in a tone that's quite similar to that of his. 

"The surface is rough, it'd scratch your back," he reminds you of the consequences of having your back against the tree trunk when you'll be naked later.

"Well you could always offer me your blazer," you counter, with a sultry smile. 

Fuck. 

Having been caught in the middle of turning into a wolf, he had to stop right away. Unfortunately, the fur doesn't disappear immediately. At that point in time, his main priority was not scaring you any further. Hence, Jungkook had grabbed the nearest thing he could find, to put on. Anything that could cover the fur until it disappears. Which so happened to be the black blazer he's now wearing.  

The image that comes to his mind as a result of your words, is one which makes him come to the conclusion that the thoughtless choice of the blazer, is one of the best decisions he has ever made. After you, of course. But if he has to put the blazer to good use, he needs to get you naked first. 

Kissing your neck with newfound vigour, he holds you firmly against himself as his hands start to wander behind your back to find the zipper that serves as the key to get you out of this dress.

Having found it, he wastes no time dragging the chain down and sliding your dress halfway down your shoulders. 

You whimper when the cold air hits your skin, taking you by surprise. He kisses, nibbles and leaves his mark on the newly exposed skin and curses to himself when he realises that you're not wearing a bra. The new discovery entices him to slide the dress even lower so that he can get his mouth on your soft supple breasts. 

His entire mouth dries up when your nipples are revealed and he realises how hard they have been all this while, as if just as eager to get sucked as he is to suck them. Wasting no time he puts your left breast in his mouth while playing with the right one with his other hand. 

"Fuck," you throw your head back at the new sensation and grab a hold of his hair. It's when he sucks a little harshly, that you look at him with eyes filled with pleasure. You notice the deep frown on his face while he plays with your tits and it does something unspeakable to you, it makes you want to skip everything and just have him inside you.

He gives equal amounts of attention to the other breast and then when he feels satisfied with the work of art he's left, he decides it is time to wander lower. 

He slides the dress off further, now exposing your stomach. His palm gently runs across the area and he leaves light kisses on his wake. The sensation makes you sigh for how in contrast they are with his previous demonstrations, which were rather rough and desperate. While these touches are soft and sensual, with a hint of teasing to them. 

Finally sliding the dress all the way down, he looks at you with anticipation in his eyes, "Step out of it." 

You oblige and step out of the dress that now pools around at your feet.  

"The underwear too," Jungkook asks, dying to see you naked. 

You smile a little at his words, understanding that he's getting impatient and you thrive in the thrill of what's to come. You hook your fingers around the band of your underwear and tug it down, getting rid of it. 

Jungkook's pupils dilate seeing every inch of your skin exposed to his eyes.

He experienced the most vulnerable part of him getting exposed and it made him want to crawl inside a hole and never come out. Anything was better than you being scared of him, being disgusted with him or feeling betrayed by him. But here you are, willingly standing naked, right in the middle of a dense forest with eyes filled with want for him. 

The wolf in him feels a deep fire ignite at the sight of you not shying away even though theoretically, anyone could step in at any moment and see the both of you in this compromising position. It assures him that you're not ashamed of him. It makes the beast in him feel accepted. 

Although he would like to have you naked like this a little longer, he reminds himself that he needs to put the blazer on you, for you'd need support for the sinful things he wishes to do to you and truth be told, he cannot hold himself back any longer. 

Removing the piece of garment, he drapes it on you. Taking a few steps back he curses when he takes in the full view of you in nothing but just a black blazer. His blazer. 

You're a tad bit disappointed when Jungkook closes the distance, for you were enjoying the sight of his glistening chest but your disappointment is gone when you realise this allows you to run your hands all over his body. 

You and Jungkook feel each other like you both are starved of touch and as if it's the air you need to survive. It's also while Jungkook feels every inch of your skin that he slowly and gradually, corners you against the tree, finally having you the way he wants to. 

He litters kisses in a straight line from your neck to your navel and then gets down on his knees. The new position has his face right in front of your sex.

"Please do something," you plead, shivering when his exhale hits your core. 

He merely hums, enjoying the sweet smell of your arousal that hits his senses. Using the tip of his thumbs, he gently parts your folds for your wetness to be revealed. "You smell so sweet, sweetheart." 

"Do you want me to have a taste?" He continues, now locking eyes with you. A soft whimper from you is all he needs to put his mouth on your nether region. 

He doesn't start gently, oh no, he straight away starts drinking all you have to offer as if he's been thirsty for ages. His tongue runs messily all over your insides, sometimes messaging your hole, other times stimulating the bundle of nerves that have you wildly arching your body with pleasure. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chant repeatedly, the forest being the only audience of your sinful words. As much as you'd like to drag it out and take it slow, you don't think you'd be able to hold yourself from orgasming any longer. It feels like it's only been a minute since Jungkook started eating you out and you're already about to fall over the edge. But can you really be blamed when Jungkook has gone completely wild with his tongue down there? "Shit, I'm about to come."

Jungkook slows down. 

His tongue all of a sudden, turns gentle, languidly cleaning up your arousal but somehow still holding the same amount of passion as before. 

You're not complaining but the switch of pace has you craving more, because you oh so desperately, need to cum. "I need to cum, Jungkook."

"Not yet, sweetheart, I need your cunt on my mouth for a little longer," he whispers, his words which practically vibrate against your folds. 

The words are on the tip of your tongue as to how he could have just started slow and gradually built the pace, rather than snatching away your high right when you were about to hit it. However, you keep the words to yourself when you realise just how much Jungkook is enjoying softly lapping at your essence as if it's his favourite treat. It also doesn't take your body long to forget the stolen high and to start enjoying the slow pace. This time instead of wild loud moans, soft gasps and broken whimpers leave your lips. 

You know Jungkook is teasing you, he likes doing that. He likes giving you pleasure in a way, which with time gets a little too much and which has you begging for relief of any sort. It's not like you cannot cum like this, you can. After all, Jungkook is a little too good with his mouth but if you let go this way, the pleasure will be one that will hit you in the form of gentle waves. However, what you crave is a wave that hits you at once like a tsunami. 

Hence, you beg. "Don't be gentle. Make me cum. Hard."

Your words are desperate, a plea to Jungkook for you will lose your mind if he doesn't let you have your relief. And that's all Jungkook wanted, for you to beg in a helpless voice. Feeling satisfied, he sucks on your clit harshly. To add to your pleasure he inserts two fingers and pumps them in and out at a slow pace until you get adjusted. Once you seem to have no difficulty with his fingers, he starts a ruthless pace, one which has you seeing stars. 

While he fingers you with one hand, his other shimmies up and slides underneath the blazer to play with your tits. He squeezes your tits to his heart's content and pinches your nipples until your eyes roll back. 

Your head thrashes wildly and you grab a fistful of his hair. "Fuck, you feel so good."

Jungkook has a bit of a dirty mouth. One which you clearly enjoy. And there's so much he wishes to say right now. He wants to tell you how sweet your cunt tastes, how tightly it's clamped around his fingers and what a sight you're from down here. But he cannot afford to not have his mouth on you, while you cum. That'd be such a waste. And if he were to go by the way your hole clenches around his fingers like a fucking vice, you're close. It only motivates him to increase his pace. 

That paired with the stimulation he provides on your clit and your tits, has your whole body heating up and the very next moment it all explodes. You cry out loudly, and your grip on his hair tightens even more as the wave hits you like a tsunami, making you lose all control over your senses. All you feel is the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.

Jungkook smiles against your cunt at the way you fall apart, thinking to himself, you for sure would have lost your balance had it not been for the tree you lean against.

He helps you ride your high and once you seem to have caught your breath, he places a few more kitten-like kisses before getting up on his feet. 

You feel weak but you cannot not kiss him with everything that you have got in you. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips when you're greeted with your essence and it urges you to have a taste of him.

Your hands find their way to his belt and you attempt to unbuckle it. Jungkook chuckles against your mouth, noticing how your hurried actions, instead of getting the job done quickly, lead to you messily fumbling with the belt. Taking matters into his own hands, he stops kissing you for a brief moment to get rid of the belt himself. 

"Fuck, thank you," that's all you say before roughly tugging his trousers down.

Your mouth practically salivates at the sight of his hard length that begs to be free from the confinement of his boxers. The dark wet patch against the piece of clothing serves as an invitation for you.

Thankfully, you do not have to put your patience to the test to get rid of his boxers. It's done swiftly without much struggle causing his length to spring out. You immediately have your hands on him. Collecting the precum from the tip, you rub it all over his length. 

Jungkook groans right next to your ears, his breathing accelerates the more you run your hands on his cock. "Yes, baby, just like that."

You feel his tip leak more beads of precum and it adds to your desire of having a taste of him. "I need to have you in my mouth."

Jungkook stops you before you can get down on your knees. His lust-filled eyes, spark with a shred of amusement. "You will hurt your knees, baby."

It's only then that you are reminded of the fact that you're in a forest and that you indeed will end up hurting your knees if you were to get down on them on the forest floor. 

"Then fuck me," you say with a gruff, a tad bit annoyed that you cannot have what you want, at this very moment.

"That I will," Jungkook chuckles darkly. Saying so, he presses his length against your folds. "Do you know how wet your pussy is?"

"Why don't you do something about it?" You mewl softly, enticing him to just fuck you rough and hard. 

"Oh don't worry, darling, you won't be able to walk after this," he promises.

It isn't just his words that affect you, it's also the way he's looking at you. You have noticed there's something more carnal about him today and if you're not wrong it has everything to do with him not having to hide anymore. It's him expressing his need without having to hold anything back, now that he knows he's accepted and loved wholly. 

"I'd like that very much." The sultry, seductive tone is intentional for you know that Jungkook plans on teasing you. But you cannot wait any further. You need to have him inside you now and you only wish you can make him as impatient as you. However, Jungkook seems to have understood what you're trying to do. It's not to say that your tactic doesn't work, it does. He starts rubbing himself against you faster but he's not willing to give in, just yet. 

You make another attempt by pinching his nipples. In the various occasions that you've been intimate with Jungkook, you've learnt that those two buds are perhaps the most sensitive spot for him.

It's once again proved right when he lets out a low growl and the next thing you know he's pushing his cock inside you. "You couldn't wait a bit longer, could you?" 

"When it comes to you, I do have a habit of becoming impatient," your voice comes out hoarse, the pleasure from having his length inside you clouding your senses. You just feel so full. 

Jungkook hums in approval and once you give him the green signal, he builds up a slow and steady pace. 

"Fuck baby, your cunt is so tight," the words are whispered against your neck, as you feel Jungkook gradually set up a brutal speed. 

You tug on his hair harshly to get a grip on reality as your vision starts to blur. You whimper, wail, scream and cry his name repeatedly, all of which fuels Jungkook to go faster and deeper. 

He notices the lightheaded look in your eyes and swiftly hooks his arms around your thighs to lift you. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and secure your position. 

The effects of your previous orgasm hasn't completely faded yet and from this angle, his dick hits the golden spot which makes your high approach faster than you had anticipated. 

"Jungkook, I'm gonna cum," the words are broken and breathless. 

The new information earns a few slow determined thrusts from him, before he speeds up again. His forehead touches yours and you feel the sweat that has built up on his skin. You notice the way he is so focused on your pleasure, on every moan that escapes your lips and every expression on your face. 

It all gets to the point where you can't hold yourself back anymore. Throwing your head back, you reach another high and hold to any part of Jungkook that you can to hold onto your sanity. 

"Baby your pussy just got so tight," he speaks in a hushed voice, the fucked out look in your eyes and the essence that he feels on his cock, as an after-effect of your orgasm, now making him chase his high.

"Cum inside me, please," you say in a weak voice, your cunt still convulsing. 

"You know I'm a werewolf right?" He queries, with a dark look in his eyes. Receiving a nod from you, he speaks again, "Do you know what that makes you?"

"My mate."

That's the only warning you get before he's pounding into you like his life depends on it. The sound of skin slapping makes you dizzy and you feel so desperate to feel him spill inside you. Thankfully, it takes a few more thrusts before he paints your insides with ropes of thick cum. 

You both stay in that position, foreheads resting against each other as you breathe heavily, feeling totally spent. 

"That was something," you mumble when you seem to have regained enough energy to speak.

"That was intense," Jungkook agrees, removing the strands of hair that had fallen on your face.

"I enjoyed it though," you smile up at him, finding it kind of silly how you ended up getting railed against a tree from running for your life. 

As he slowly feels himself coming down from his high, he feels the disbelief resurface again. Did he just fuck you after you found out he's a werewolf? And you just let him and confessed to enjoying it? And are you still here looking up at him with those bright eyes? 

"You're unreal," he sighs, closing his eyes and inhaling your sweet scent. 

"You're the one who's a werewolf and you are telling me, I am unreal?" Your brows quirk up as you tease him.

"I–It's just unbelievable that you're still here–"

"So a good round of fucking wasn't enough for you to believe that I'm here?" Your words earn a small chuckle from him which soon turns into a warm smile when you place a kiss on his jaw. "There's never gonna be a good enough reason for me to stop loving you, Jungkook."

"I promise I'll never hide anything from you again," his nose gently rubs against yours.

"I hope you don't ever feel the need to," you hum. "But for now, you need to do me a favour and carry me on your back."

"Told you, you won't be able to walk after," he winks, with a proud look. 

"That and the fact that I got a cramp due to all that running."

His worry is immediate. "You got a cramp? Why didn't you tell me? Shit, did I hurt you while having sex?"

"Nope, it didn't cause much trouble," you shake your head to ease him. It's the truth, the cramp doesn't seem to have had much of an affect. It's only when you try to stretch you legs, that it causes the slightest of sting. 

"Let's head back, I'll massage the area for you, that should help," he comments as he quickly starts collecting the clothes that you two have dropped on the ground without a care. 

Once he has his trousers back in place and has collected everything that is needed, he asks you to hold the clothes. Then swiftly, in the blink of an eye, he is picking you up in bridal style. A surprised gasp escapes your lips but it soon turns into giggles when you realise that Jungkook's upper half is still unclothed and you get exclusive access to it on your way back. 

"Walk slow, take as much time you need," you quip, your hands slowly and dramatically inching closer to his chest. 

He rolls his eyes, pretending to be done with your silly behaviour when in reality, it's one of the things that he so dearly loves about you. 

He knows you tend to get sleepy after sex and the only reason you're being this talkative and playful, when your body is probably trying to doze off, is because you want him to be at ease. You know him a little too well and know that in your silence, he will probably overthink again. Its not just your words and touchy hands but it's also this unspoken thoughtful gesture, that makes Jungkook finally relax and let go of the notion that you'll regret or change your views about him.

Oh, how dearly he loves you. 

Bless whoever had started the rumour about the documentary. Had it not been for them, he would not have you in his arms right now, making him feel like the luckiest man alive.

Gosh, he cannot wait to spend the rest of his life with you.

[audliminal]

It's Just a game, Right? Pt 7

Masterpost

It's just a game, right?

Tim turns his head at the soft their of a grappling hook, and a moment later Steph has joined him on the roof of the building.

"Not much happening tonight, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess," Tim responds as he watches traffic pass on the street below. She is right; the night so far has been unusually calm. It's a distinct contrast to last week- it seemed like every night some big villain was pulling out some ridiculous plan or other, but somehow they had all been stopped without serious harm. Of course, there are still plenty of rogues still scurrying around Gotham but there's no murmurs of anything coming from any of the big hitters for the moment.

"You don't sound very sure about that," Steph says, stepping up beside Tim and elbowing him lightly.

"Yeah," Tim answers. A flashy silver car cuts someone off and the resultant horn echoes harshly.

"Okay, you're being weird. What's up?"

Tim shrugs.

"Guess I'm just used to emergencies," Tim shrugs. He knows Steph wouldn't be weird about him bringing up Bernard, but he really doesn't need any of his fellow bats thinking he's compromised or overstressed. God knows he doesn't need anyone else pestering him about getting enough sleep, like he's staying up on purpose.

"Okay..." Steph trails off. "I mean I guess it has been pretty hectic for a while. Takes a bit of time to come down from all that?"

Tim is saved from having to respond by the sound of Oracle cutting into comms.

"Red Robin, Spoiler, looks like a store robbery in progress and you're the closest. Head for the intersection of 25th and Oak."

"Got it," Tim answers and doesn't wait for Steph's response, already halfway through the motion of taking off for the next building.

Pretty soon they're both dropping in on a pair of goons. One of them is aiming their gun directly at a frazzled-looking employee, who doesn't seem interested in putting up a fight.

Two-on-two makes it an incredibly easy fight though, and it's almost over before it begins, with both of them able to sneak up on the distracted thugs as the cashier hurriedly pulls money out of the cash register. Once they're both in position, it's easy enough to grapple, disarm, and restrain them in a flurry of movement, and the criminals never get a chance to even process the arrival of the bats.

"Not today, I think," Steph says as she handcuffs her guy. "Threatening people with guns is a real dick move, y'know?" Tim gets his guy handcuffed and turns to the startled employee.

"Cops on the way yet?" He gets a frantic nod, and Tim surveys the shop as he waits for the sirens. They'll bounce just before the cops get here, but until then, he wants to look around for any signs of something bigger. The two would-be thieves seem too shocked and terrified at the appearance of bats to be proper goons, but they could still be bait, or a distraction of some kind. And the shop itself could theoretically have been targeted. But by the time the sirens are closing in outside, he's not spotted signs of anything sinister.

"Right, the police are almost here, so we're gonna bounce!" Steph announces as Tim walks back towards her. "Tell your boss I said he should give you hazard pay for the night, 'kay?" and then she bounces out the same way they came in. Tim nods once at the employee and then follows.

He changes directions once he's on the rooftops again, though. His phone had buzzed about six times in a row while they were waiting, and that means it's probably Bernard. And he really doesn't want to explain the arg thing to anyone yet.

Once he's far enough away from anyone, he pulls his phone out, and sure enough, he's got six text messages from Bernard.

Dude

Babe, holy shit

Like seriously

This is fucking crazy

Like I cannot believe they replied to us

Us!!!

Attached to the series of texts is a screenshot, and Tim feels the anxiety coalesce into something abruptly solid in his chest.

At first glance, he can't tell what language it's supposed to be. It looks like it might be Romantic in origin, but a couple spellings look almost Slavic in nature, and there's only two and a half lines, which really isn't much to go off of.

It's certainly an interesting development, to say the least. He should be excited. This is a new clue for the mystery, after all.

No way! Tim sends back.

Yeah! U busy? Comes the immediate response. And like, technically the answer is yes, Tim supposed. But Steph literally just pointed out how calm things are tonight, and he can already tell he won't be able to focus, with this news.

"Um," Tim clicks on his comm. "I think I'm gonna call it for tonight."

"Something wrong?" Bruce asks immediately, all gruff-batman-voice.

"No, just- it's slow tonight, and Bernard wants my help with something so I thought, um. If you want me to finish my patrol, I can." He can't help it. Even now, he always kind of feels like he isn't doing enough to be a good vigilante.

"Nah, kid. I think we'll be fine without you." Hood answers, unsurprisingly.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah go make out with your boyfriend or whatever."

Tim smiles at Hood's usual ribbing. He's almost gotten used to it; mostly he can keep himself from blushing too violently when anyone teases him about Bernard.

"Okay. I'll make sure to get my report submitted by eight, promise." Tim is already en route to the nearest safehouse where he can change out of the suit, when he remembers he hasn't responded to Bernard yet.

Heading home rn. My place or yours? He hits send and then takes off once more. Excited to see his boyfriend, and determined to work through the newest puzzle.

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door - VI

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader (feat John Wick!) fic based on this imagine. all chapters warnings: nsfw, blood, biting, violence, divider by animatedglittergraphics

6. creature of the night

In the back of the yellow taxi driven by the faithful Chas, John makes a point not to touch you. You are so heartbroken by the events of the past half hour that it does not even register that Chas is driving you somewhere other than your mutual apartment building, until you pull up in front of a dilapidated storefront declaring “BOWL, BOW, BOWL” on the neon sign. 

“What…?”

“My friend Beeman’s place. Somewhere to lay low,” John explains, throwing open the door of the cab.  

“Thanks, Chas,” you say, because John never seems to find it necessary to do so. 

“Sure, y/n,” answers the young man. “Hey John–” 

John slams the door shut on Chas’s question. 

“You’re so mean to him,” you sigh.  

He only answers that with a snort, coughing to the side. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” 

He leads you through the doors, and up some stairs to a living space above the bowling alley. It is long, with high ceilings, white subway tiles, and crumbling lead paint on the paneling. A bank of windows stretches all down the wall. 

It’s an interesting space, but the windows could be a problem for you, come dawn. 

“There’s a big closet in the other room,” he assures you, like he can read your mind. 

He directs you into a chair at a long table, and all business, starts loosening his tie. 

“John…wait.” 

“You don’t have time to wait. You look like shit, and his blood will contaminate your ability to fight him.” He cocks his head, looking down at you. “Unless you don’t plan on fighting him? You looked pretty cozy when I found you.” 

A thread of heat dances down that connection between you, and you pause with surprise as you recognize it for what it is. Jealousy? After the way he’s avoided you? Is he fucking kidding right now? 

“You look like shit,” you counter, and you realize it’s true. His skin is sallow; there are dark circles under his eyes. He was always slender, but now he borders on too thin. You know he doesn’t take care of himself, but this is beyond the usual abuse. Was he not sleeping or eating because of you? You think on what Wick said to you. He doesn’t look good. I won’t have to wait long for you. What the fuck did that mean? “Are you ok?” you demand, standing to examine him more closely. 

“I’m fine,” he grouses, backing away. 

You don’t believe him, and the two of you stand in the kitchen facing off with each other, both pissed, though you suspect, for different reasons. 

Somehow you know if you keep pushing him, John will just refuse to talk to you at all, stubborn bull of a man that he is. So you change tack, appealing to the know-it-all in him. 

“What…is he?” 

“John Wick is a hybrid,” Constantine explains matter of factly. “Half human, half vampire. Your perfect predator. They have to drink vampire blood to stay alive, and they can live a long time.”

“He drank my blood,” you admit, touching the marks at your throat that still have not healed. Usually such an injury would have sealed over by now. “But then…he gave me some back.” 

Constantine snorts. “Yeah, I saw that.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. 

“He said…I reminded him of someone he once knew.” 

“When you’ve lived as long as he has, probably everyone reminds you of someone,” John scoffs. 

“He slaughtered all of don Juan’s vampires, at Perla. Juan was going to hold me hostage to bait you. But then Wick came up the stairs, and…Jesus Christ. It was a massacre.” 

“Yeah. He does that.”

“Juan got away, and Wick…spared me.” 

“Spared you, huh? Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”

Your annoyance spikes. “You know, for someone who has been avoiding me like the plague, you sure seem to care about who I kiss!”

“You can makeout with whoever you want, sweetheart, I couldn’t care less. But what the hell were you doing at Perla?” 

His tone suggests he might feel otherwise.

“Hunting.” 

“At the Master’s own club? Are you kidding me?”   

For a moment you are taken aback, and then you really see red. “I didn’t know it was the Master’s club because you’ve never fucking told me anything, John!” Seething, you go on, “You didn’t have to fuck me. You didn’t have to feed me. But it would have been nice if you could have at least prepared me!”

In the end you are toe to toe, and points to John for not flinching while your eyes are flashing orange and your fangs are bared. 

“I tried,” he insists through his teeth, a lot more calmly than you. “But everytime I’m around you…”

You share blood and body fluids, is the short of it, and you know he’s not wrong.  

You let out a long breath, trying to calm down. The following inhale does not exactly help you; it’s all John, his yummy cologne and the scent of his skin and that beautiful essence coursing beneath it and jesus fucking christ no wonder he hates you. 

You retreat, turning your back on him, trying not to cry, trying not to yell, and trying not to tackle him to the floor to drink him down.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, and you mean it. “I didn’t know how to control it.” You think about that golden thread between you, and the way don Juan taunted you, and the name slung so freely by the vampire hunter like it was an insult. Maybe you have an inkling of why John’s been avoiding you like the plague. “What did I do to you, John?”

“I know you didn’t mean to.” 

He sounds as miserable as you feel. 

“Mean to what?”

“You made me your creature, y/n. Familiar, human servant, famulus, bonded, thrall, Renfield. You want all the names for it?” 

You turn to look at him, your heart breaking all over again. “I just…liked you, John.” 

More than liked him, apparently, but you’d rather die than admit it now. 

He nods, suddenly very interested in a stain on the wall, his jaw clenching. “I liked you too,” he admits. “But this is…not good.” 

You feel that light inside you, that warmth that is a part of him, somehow, a part of you. You tug on it, and he can’t help but look at you then. “It feels good?” you say.

“Yeah.” He takes a step closer towards you. “But if I was damned before…” Another step. “I’m really fucked now.” 

You shake your head, at such a loss. What kind of a God would forsake his children so freely, if not a complete sadist? Isn’t he supposed to be all love and forgiveness?

“We’re not bad people, John.” 

“I know. It doesn’t matter. There are rules.” 

“You know, you’ve never told me…why you think you’re going to Hell?”

“Because when I was a teenager, and driven to despair living in an institution because of the things God gave me the gift to see…I killed myself. I spent two minutes in the fiery pit before they brought me back, but it was enough. It’s…pure agony, y/n, and it lasts for an eternity.” 

Your lip quivers as the magnitude of what he’s telling you sinks in. Growing up, Heaven and Hell were such abstractions to you. Something you suspected your parents threatened you with just to get you to behave. But hearing him say it like this…you believe him. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, John. Can it be undone? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 

Sadly, he just shakes his head. Does that mean it’s irreversible? With a heavy sigh he sits down in one of the kitchen chairs, pulling over his bottle of Ardbeg and splashing a couple fingers into a glass. He doesn’t offer you any–not that you’d want it, but still rude. You shouldn’t be surprised by now. “I admit I didn’t think you could even do it yet, you’re so new.” 

You think about the power the two of you called up, the last time you were together. You’ve always been fire together, even when you barely knew each other. Isn’t that worth something? How is that not something gifted by God, if indeed that motherfucker does exist?

“Are you ready now?” he asks, sounding resigned, pulling his collar aside again. 

You look away, because the sight of his bare throat affects you like a teenager with a PLAYBOY centerfold, making you flush all over. Jesus Christ, will you ever not want him so much? 

Even with your belly full of dhampir blood; his pulse calls to you with a siren’s song.

His heart beats for you, your deepest instincts whisper, even while your head knows it's all a wishful thought.

“I can find someone else, John. I’ve caused you so much trouble.” 

The sound he makes at the thought of you with someone else low in his throat is nearly a growl–but then ends in a violent cough.

You take a step closer. “Are you sick? Do you have the flu or something?”

He actually laughs at that–then coughs some more. “No, I don’t have the flu.” 

“Then what?” 

The bitter curl of lips he offers you hurts your heart. “The irony is, I’d probably be dead by now if not for you.” 

“What?”

He lets out a long-suffering sigh. 

“I’m dying, y/n. I’ve got cancer.” He spits the last word, as though he finds it utterly absurd, like an insult God has personally bestowed upon him.

You feel as though the floor has dropped out from under you, a ringing in your ears like you were at ground zero of an explosion. Cancer? All the things this man has faced…and…he’s got fucking cancer? 

“How long have you known?” Your voice cracks with the effort to keep it all in.

“Not long.” 

“Prognosis?” you ask quietly, fearing the answer like the monster under the bed. 

“Not good.” When he sees your lip trembling he adds, “Please don’t fuss.” You don’t have much blood to spare, but you feel the sting of tears start to well in your eyes again. “And definitely don’t cry. Come on, y/n.” The admonition turns into a coughing fit. He turns his head, covering it with his sleeve. When he lowers his arm you see the stain of blood from his lips, and your heart hits rock bottom. 

“Oh my god. You should be in a hospital!” 

If you can sense so much, how did you miss this?

“Well…I’m kind of busy trying to save the world right now. Whatever Hell’s cooking up this time, it’s big. I can feel it. If I don’t stop it…nothing up here might matter anymore anyway.”

“Ok…what do we need to do?” 

He snorts. “We? Oh no. You’re staying out of it. I leave you unsupervised and you get tangled up with the Master of the City and the world’s most dangerous dhampir in one night?”

You clench your jaw, trying to hold it in. Your despair, and your frustration, because for someone so smart this man sure can be a fucking idiot. 

“John, you should be in treatment!”

He shrugs, paying you that rueful half smile that ties your heartstrings up in knots. It would be a full on grin for most people. You realize that he would fucking hate it if you started weeping all over him, but this form of expression of your grief for him is acceptable. This, he’s actually enjoying, the weird bastard. 

This man is going to be the death of you. 

You are on the verge of chewing him out when he tugs at that connection between you, and that golden coil inside you flares to life. You shudder, closing your eyes, hardly able to keep yourself from crawling into his lap. You’re trying not to be a horny mess in the middle of this serious discussion–and failing badly. 

“Feel that?” 

“What is it?” He has so much more experience with this metaphysical stuff than you. 

He chews on his answer for a long time, before finally admitting, “I’ve been doing some reading. I think…we’re bound.” 

“Bound how?” 

“Our life forces,” he tries to explain. “We can…feel each other. It’s how I found you tonight. I felt you calling me, I knew you were in trouble. And we make each other stronger. I think…you’re keeping me alive, for now, but I don’t know for how long. The cancer’s still getting worse, just…slower.” 

“You should have told me.” 

“I…didn’t know how,” he admits. Most people would have added, I’m sorry, but not John Constantine. 

You finally get up the courage to take another step closer, standing between his spread legs. You reach out to touch his face, tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone, the line of his dark hair around his ear. You should have noticed immediately that he was looking gaunt. His eyes close under your touch, a long sigh escaping him, and you sense how horrible it’s been for him to carry this burden all alone. Always so alone, your John, and mostly, by his own choice.  

“If you need money for chemo I’ll get it for you.” 

His lips twist with amusement at hearing that. “Yeah? You gonna rob a drug cartel for me, Miss Vigilante?” Such is the state of the American healthcare system, that such extremes might be necessary.

“That’s not a bad idea.” 

He laughs, then regrets it as the coughing takes over. “Jesus. I’m sorry,” you say, patting his shoulder.  

“This is why I can’t be around you,” he snarks deadpan. “I’ll lose a damn lung.” 

You sigh, unable to stop yourself from thinking about the woman you saw him with last night. 

“Does…Angela know?” 

He blinks at that. “No, why would she?”

“Isn’t she…your girlfriend?”

Again, he starts to laugh, then forces himself to be still, squeezing his eyes shut. “What? No, we just met.” His dark eyes are practically sparkling as he looks up at you now, unbearably smug. He thinks this is funny, and you are so not going to tell him you were ready to chew through the concrete of your apartment building after seeing them together. “She’s helping me with a case. Or I’m helping her. The demon half-breeds are up to something big. I think they’re after her.” 

“Oh.” You are the worst, because rather than sympathy for that poor woman, all you feel is relief. “I…that’s awful.” 

“Yeah. I warded her apartment while I’m trying to get to the bottom of it. If she stays put, she should be fine…in theory.” 

“Oh. That was…nice of you.”

You can tell John is fighting not to smirk at you. “Yeah, that's me.”

Annoyed by his cheek, you insist, “You like her though. I could tell.”

“She’s alright,” he answers, interested in a knot in the table suddenly.

“You want her. I guess I don’t blame you. She’s pretty cute.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“I’m dying, for one.”

“All humans are in the process of dying.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Just saying. Better not waste your time.” You're interested in the floor too, as you say this. The thought of him with another woman claws at your insides, but you try to handle it like an adult. 

“You trying to get rid of me now?”

“Did I ever have you?”

If you’d still had to breathe, you would have held your breath, waiting for his answer, yearning for some acknowledgement of what is between you. But he only shakes his head, at you or himself you’re not sure, pouring himself another drink.

Your heart sinks like a stone to the bottom of a cold, cold lake. 

“You trying to clear your dance card for John Wick?” 

“You mean Jardani?”

“Oh, Jardani?” he singsongs mockingly, fluttering his lashes. “No one’s called him that in this century.”

“Fine. Whatever his name is, the answer’s no. He scares the fuck out of me.” 

It’s mostly true, though maybe not for the right reasons. 

“You didn’t look too scared, in the alley together. You looked like you were going to eat each other.”

You kind of did exactly that, and you didn’t know it was possible to blush as a vampire, but goddammit there it is. Cherry red heat, blistering your cheeks and the tips of your ears. 

“I don’t have to take this from you,” you growl, turning to go, though where you have no idea. 

“Hey, wait.” He catches your hand in his, and you are reminded somehow of the last time you were together. You have the control not to throw him onto the floor this time, just looking at him from under your lashes. 

“I’ve been waiting, John,” you finally say, and there’s no accusation in it now. Just resignation. Because if what he says is true–you’ve got the time to wait, but he definitely doesn’t. It seems surreal, that he could actually be fatally ill.

He sighs, and you marvel at how much this man can convey with the expulsion of some air. Annoyance, and maybe even some regret.  “I warned you, when this whole thing started, that I’m not boyfriend material.”

Why does hearing him say that hurt so much? You feel the sting of tears again, but you don’t let them fall. “I never expected you to be my boyfriend, John.”

“Then what did you want from me?” 

He seems genuinely curious, maybe as confused about all this as you are, and looking down into his soulful dark eyes you realize you don’t actually have an answer. You have all these feelings for this man, all this emotion that feels like a goddamn electrical storm crackling inside you, and yet…what did you want from him? Chocolates? Flowers? Love poems? You fucking knew better than that. You weren’t going to date like a normal couple. You weren’t going to move in together or meet each other’s parents. “I don’t know,” you admit, sounding as surprised as you feel. “Just some acknowledgement, maybe, that I meant something to you. 

He lifts an eyebrow to that. “Okay. Consider it acknowledged.” 

Somehow, this doesn’t exactly satisfy you. Disgusted, more with yourself than him now, you try to retreat again, but he won’t let go of your hand. 

“I like you, y/n,” he says with emphasis, squeezing your palm like there’s something you’re supposed to be reading between the lines. “But I don’t have anything to offer you except a target on your back. I’ve brought you nothing but trouble.”

“Is that what you really think?”  

Does he hate himself so much?

“I know it, y/n.” 

You can’t help but think of the joy you’ve felt in his arms. The pleasure, and the triumph, and the utter elation. That is why you have chased him, you realize. Because in the fleeting moments in which you catch him–you feel like you’re on top of the world. No one else has ever come close to making you feel the way John Constantine does–and if you say any of this out loud you’re afraid he’ll roll his eyes and laugh at you. 

With his handsome face in your hand you lean down as though drawn by a string, hoping to show him how you feel instead. Can’t he feel it, through this connection between you? The way you adore him? You think you feel it start to glow, and if you can invoke that magic you shared before, then surely he’ll understand. Maybe he will value himself more, if he understands how precious he is to you. He watches your approach with parted lips, his eyes fixed on you. But at the last minute he turns his head, and you freeze with mortification for his rejection. 

“You’ve still got dhampir blood in your mouth,” he says quietly, not meeting your gaze. 

He’s not wrong, of course. You didn’t exactly have a chance to brush your fucking teeth–and maybe that is pretty gross. 

You disgust him. 

You are a bloodsucking creature of the night, and even if he’s dying inside, he’s a demon hunter to the bone. 

Why you ever thought he could love you, is anyone’s guess.

[redheadspark]

Hawuu

I'm not sure if I could request again but is it alright to request 22. Different soulmates with either Druig or Benedict, you can choose cause I'm just mostly in it for the angst >:) Thank you.

A/N - HAWU! This is interesting, I loved writing it! Thanks for the request!

Break

Summary - Benedict had a destiny, you just weren't part of it

Warning - Angsta and Fluff mixed together

“This is a scandal, A SHEER SCANDAL IN THE MAKING!”

“I understand this will cause a scene—“

“A SCENE?!  THIS IS AN UPROAR AND THE TOPIC OF THE ENTIRE SEASON!”

You cringed from the shriek of your mother’s tone as she was screaming at your future mother-in-law, who was trying to diffuse the situation.  Thankfully you were sitting in the parlor, one room away from the argument that was overflowing in the Bridgerton household.  Clutching the tea cup in your hand, you were staring at the floor trying not to cry from the drama unfolding within seconds. 

All because of your fiancé, Benedict Bridgerton, not being your soulmate.

It’s never happened: matches who aren’t soulmates.  Such news to break into society would be catastrophic.  You’ve only heard such stories that were mostly seen as cautionary tales: it would be a sign of a bad marriage for two souls that are not “meant” to be together.  The last thing any noble family needed was a scandal on their hands.

Now you were the one bringing the scandal to your own family, both yourself and Benedict.

Neither one of you thought it would be a massive deal when you both fell in love with one another, meeting through a mutual friend at a charity auction.  Benedict saw you from across the hall, seeing you in your red dress and your hair up in curls with the lights dancing along your jewelry.  In his words, you took his breath away from the moment he saw you caught under the candlelight and danced with a friend of yours.  Seeing his bright eyes lock with your own as he bowed to you and said his name, you were entranced with him as well.  It was a mutual drawn feeling to one another that night.

Yet there was one snag: Benedict already had a soulmate.

He had never meant her, yet it was known that he was soulmates with another woman from a prestigious family.  Because they never crossed paths, he never thought about it.  There were tales in the past of soulmates never meeting one another and yet going on their lives unphased.  There would be no ahem if soulmates never got together or interacted, though that was barely spoken about in high society.  

Benedict’s soulmate has yet to reach out to him since he found out he was a soulmate to another.  Once the discovery was made, soulmates had to register through the government to have on profile.  When Benedict registered when he was merely 16, he never knew much of his other half except for her name and the family she hailed from.  Though not familiar with the name itself, he was notified that his soulmate never registered.

She never registered at all.

The door into the parlor opened, making your gaze go from your teacup to the door to see none other than your fiancé poke his head in.  His eyes were filled to the brim with concern seeing you sitting rigidly in your chair, holding your teacup in such a breath grip it was about to crack from the pressure.  Benedict was about to say something else when another outburst came through from your mother.

“I CAN NOT HAVE MY DAUGHTER MARRY SOMEONE WHO IS ALREADY PROMISED—“ 

Benedict closed the door rather quickly before you could hear anything else, you feeling a few tears about to push through.  He glided over to you, taking the teacup from your hands and placing it on the coffee table to lace your hands together as you were trying so hard not to cry.  This was what you both wanted when you were breaking the news of your engagement., something you both spoke about for hours on end in how you were going to tell your families.  Benedict’s mother, Violet, was a bit taken aback by the news but was nonetheless supportive.  Though her son already had a soulmate, there was no rule against a match happening outside of a soulmate mate.  She liked you already when you were introduced, seeing the light in her son’s eyes and how he grinned when you were at his side.  

Violet only wanted the best for her son, so she was thrilled you both were engaged.  Not your mother though.

“This won’t work,” You mumbled, hiding your tears from Benedict as he shook his head and you inhaled sharply, “I thought my mother would be at least tolerable to the notion of us being together—“

“She doesn’t want a scandal is all,” Benedict reassured you, kissing the back of your hand as he went on, “There have been instances in the past of couples who are not soulmates being perfectly happy in their marriages!”

“But I don’t want this to ruin our marriage already, and for you to make this choice when you already have someone for you out there,” you blubbered, Benedict looking at you with wide eyes and a look of shock.  Gently he placed his fingers under your chin to have you look in his direction.  His bright green eyes right on yours, his hands soothing along your skin, he kept his gaze on you unphased and unmoved.  

“You’re my someone, my dear,” he vowed to you as you searched his eyes.  You saw truthfulness in his orbs, something you loved about him as he scooted a bit closer to you and spoke again, “I don’t anyone else in my life but you.  I can’t picture my life without you, not for one moment,”

“But your soulmate..” You were about to argue, already thinking that this was a bad idea.  Your mother was riled up, by the notion of the rest of the families talking behind your backs, Benedict’s soulmate finding out and causing chaos.  

“I’ve yet to meet her and I can make the choice to never meet her from here on out,” he explained inappropriately shrug, “It’s been on record that I can revoke my name on the soulmate register so that I won’t be contacted by my soulmate at any time”

You are floored by what he is proposing, making you stand up from the chair and Benedict looking at you with his gaze.  The notion of Benedict making himself unavailable for his soulmate to find and connect with at any time.  It seemed like such a massive step for him to take, to alter his life forever.  Yet he made it sound so simple, like any other choice he would make in the day. 

“You’re willing to do that?” You asked sheepishly and on the brink of astonishment, “To take away your chance at your soulmate…..for me?”

He sighed, getting up from the chair to frame your face in his hands and kiss you soothingly.  Your eyes slipped closed, the simple kiss alone was making your mind go blank and the worry evaporate.  The Butterly sensation in your stomach was back because of him, because of the love he had for you that he would show from sun up to sun down.  Falling in love with him was easy and organic, and for him to fall you just as fiercely was like a gift.  

He pulled away from the kiss, nuzzling your nose with his own as he scanned your eyes, “I would do anything to have you in my life.  In my mind, you are my soulmate, and I won’t let our happiness and love for one another be tainted by something frivolous.”

You felt your heart break and burst simultaneously, the warmth spreading underneath your skin throughout your body.  Benedict was willing to take that step for you, to cut off someone he’d never met when he was destined to be with him.  It would have been suicidal for anyone else to do, tainting the family name and never to be seen in society and out in public again.  

Yet there he was, making that choice just to be with you.

“I love you and only you,” He vowed, “I will take anything that comes our way just to keep you in my life,” He reassured you calmly as he pressed a soothing kiss on your forehead, “How about you and I speak to your mother, together.  Deal?”

You smiled and nodded your head, “Deal,” 

Your wedding was one the most popular, spoken of far and wide.  Benedict took his name off the soulmate registry, and his soulmate never contacted him.

The End.

[littlest-w01f]

Bookstore

Nesta x Reader

Nesta MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Nesta is at her favourite book shop, the owner has a new book for her

Cw: Dom/experienced Reader, F!Fingering, Smut 18+ MDNI

Nesta looked out to the sign of her favourite shop, well, it had only recently become her favourite, mostly because of you, the 'scorchingly hot owner' of the place, a phrase coined by Emerie and the normally bold Nesta Archeron, got unnervingly nervous around you.

The store is an old-style building with tall windows that let in plenty of natural light, casting long shadows across the shelves filled with various genres of literature. Inside, the air smells like old paper mixed with a hint of coffee coming from the small cafe tucked away in one corner, she was there when it just opened, before anyone.

At the front counter, you stood behind the register, your back towards the door as you busied yourself with some paperwork. You had long, curly hair that fell down her back perfectly, giving off an aura of sophistication yet approachability at the same time.

Nesta hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door, the bell above announcing her arrival with a cheerful ding. She stepped inside, her eyes immediately drawn to your form over the counter. The sight of you stirred something within her, a desire she couldn't quite put her finger on but desperately wanted to explore further.

As if sensing her presence, you straightened up and turned around, flashing her a warm smile that made Nesta's heart skip a beat. "Welcome back," you greeted, your voice smooth like honey. "I'm glad to see you again so soon."

Nesta returned the smile, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks. "Hi… I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by to browse." She glanced around the store, taking in the familiar sights and smells. "It's such a lovely day outside."

As you leaned against the counter, your curves accentuated by the formal clothes you wore, Nesta's gaze lingered on your curves, the swell of your breasts barely contained by the confines of your blouse. Her mind wandered to what lay beneath those professional clothes, imagining the softness of your skin, the firmness of your nipples. A sudden heat pooled between her thighs, making her shift uncomfortably, she'd never thought of the female body like that before looking over yours.

She quickly looked away, embarrassed by her reaction. "So, um, is there something new in today?" Nesta asked, trying to distract herself from the unfamiliar desires coursing through her body.

You chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down Nesta's spine. "Well, we just got in a shipment of romace novels. Would you like me to show you?"

As you moved around the counter, Nesta caught a whiff of your perfume, a sweet, floral scent that mingled with the muskiness of your skin. It intoxicated her, making her head spin.

Nesta nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from your movements. The way your hips swayed subtly with each step was hypnotic, drawing her closer to the counter. You reached out tentatively, your fingers brushing against the spine of a book on the shelf beside you.

"You always have the best selection," Nesta commented, her voice barely more than a whisper now. But even that sound sent a thrill racing down your spine.

"I try my best," You replied, leaning in close enough that Nesta could smell the sweetness of your breath. Your lips were mere inches away from hers now, close enough to kiss if either dared to take that step. "Now what would you like? I know females like you like their spice."

The comment about her liking her spice caused Nesta to flush deeply, her pulse quickening. She wasn't sure why your words affected her so much, she wasn't one to blush, but she found herself wanting to hear more. "I do like spice..." Nesta mused aloud, her mind filling with all sorts of lewd images. She reached out to grab a romance novel off the shelf, turning to the back to read. The plot didn't interest her as much as the idea of you, the bookstore owner, sharing this intimate moment with her, and your gorgeous figure.

She glanced up at you, her heart pounding in her chest as she contemplated what to do next. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch you, to feel the warmth of your body under her fingertips. Another part of her wanted to lean in closer, pressing her body flush against yours and losing herself in a passionate kiss.

Your eyes locked onto Nesta's, seeing the desire burning within them. It mirrored the fire that had been stoked within your own belly. "Spice is good," you murmured, stepping even closer until there was no space left between you. The air seemed charged with electricity, every inch of your bodies practically humming with unspoken promises.

You noticed the book in her hand, the females on the cover, "Have you been with a female before?"

Nesta blinked, surprised by your direct question. She hadn't expected such boldness from you, given your previous conversations were only about books, despite the fact that she thought you would flirt with her. Yet, instead of being intimidated, she felt a rush of excitement. "No, not really," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "But I've always wondered…" Her curiosity piqued, she set the book back on the shelf and took a tentative step toward you.

"Wondered what, sweetheart?" You asked, your chests pressed together, your hand playing with the skirts of her gown.

"About how it feels, I suppose," Nesta confessed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal. She could feel the heat radiating off your body, almost overwhelming her senses. Then she tilted her head slightly, gazing up at you through her lashes, a little more confident. "I want you to show me."

You kissed her instantly, lips pressing together, your hands at her waist, pressing her into the bookshelf. Nesta gasped into the kiss, as she did you shoved your tongue into her mouth, tasting her, her body reacting instinctively to your touch. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer still. The sensation of your lips against hers was intoxicating, a sweet taste that made her knees weak. She moaned softly, the sound muffled by your mouth, as her body moulded itself to yours.

Your hands began to roam over her curves, tracing the outline of her waist before sliding upwards to cup her breasts. Through the fabric of her dress, you could feel the hardened nipples, begging for attention.

You kissed down her neck, licking and sucking, "Mother, you taste amazing."

A shiver ran down Nesta's spine as your lips trailed lower, leaving a trail of warmth and wetness in their wake. The compliment, though unexpected, sent a jolt of pleasure through her, causing her to grip tighter onto your shoulders. "Th-thank you?" she managed to stammer out, her voice shaky with desire. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the throbbing between her legs. She was already wet with anticipation.

Reaching down, you pulled her skirt up, your hand on the drenched cloth covering her cunt, "Someone's excited," You teased.

Nesta whimpered, her hips bucking involuntarily as your fingers grazed the damp fabric. "Yes," she breathed out, her face flushed with shameless need. She couldn't believe how aroused she was, how eager to surrender to these newfound cravings. "Please, touch me," she begged, spreading her legs wider in invitation. The cool air hit her exposed skin, making her ache for your warmth once more.

"Oh, I entend to." You smirked, hand pressed against her heated cunt, pulling the cotton she wore to her ankles.

She bit her lip to stifle a moan, but it was impossible to contain the sounds of her pleasure. Each brush against her clit sent shockwaves of ecstasy through her trembling frame. Her hips rolled in time with your movements, silently urging you to continue.

Suddenly, you captured her mouth in another searing kiss, swallowing her cries as two fingers plunged deep inside her tight cunt. Nesta gasped, her inner muscles clenching greedily around the welcome intrusion. She rocked against your hand, fucking herself on your fingers as you pumped them in and out at an increasing pace. Her juices coated your palm.

Nesta's entire world narrowed down to the feeling of your fingers moving within her. Every thrust sent sparks shooting up her spine, igniting a cold fire in her core. She moaned into your mouth, her tongue tangling with yours in a desperate dance. She needed more, and craved the sensation of being completely consumed by this lustful encounter.

Breaking the kiss, she buried her face in the crook of your neck, biting down gently on the soft flesh there. "Don't stop," she pleaded, her voice laced with raw desire. Her walls clenched rhythmically around your probing digits, her orgasm building rapidly.

You slowed your hand a little, "Beg like a good girl, Nes." You groaned in the kiss.

Nesta's breath hitched at your command, a fresh wave of arousal washing over her. "Please, don't stop," she repeated, her voice quivering with need. She pressed herself harder against your hand, seeking friction where she desperately needed it. The slow rhythm of your fingers drove her mad, teasing her mercilessly towards release.

Her body trembled uncontrollably, her climax looming just beyond her grasp. She whimpered again, nipping at your skin in desperation. "Fuck, I'm so close," she whispered hoarsely, her nails digging into your shoulders.

"I know you are," You muse, watching the way Nesta's eyes rolled back, her thighs twitching around you, "You wanna cum all over my fingers, pretty girl?"

Nesta let out a strangled cry, her body arching off the shelves as your words pushed her over the edge. "Yes!" she screamed, her cunt clamping down hard around your fingers as she came undone. Waves of intense pleasure crashed over her, making her shake and shudder in your arms. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer force of her orgasm.

As the last aftershocks subsided, she slumped against you, her limbs heavy and satiated. She gazed up at you with hooded eyes, a lazy smile playing on her lips. "That was… incredible," she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction.

You smiled, cleaning her with a wave of your hand, "You're welcome, sweetness." You purr, licking your fingers clean of her release

Nesta watched, mesmerized, as you licked your fingers clean of her release. The sight alone was enough to send another ripple of pleasure coursing through her. You reached out tentatively, your fingertips grazing her cheek in a tender gesture, so different from how she had been finger-fucked by you.

"You're something else," She whispered, her voice filled with awe and admiration. A new hunger sparked within her, one that wasn't quenched yet. She wanted more, more of you, more of this intensity, more of everything that came with this.

"I know," You looked up when the bell rang again to tell someone else had entered, you kiss Nesta's head, "I owe you dinner now, meet me back here at 7 bells." With that, you left her to collect herself.

Nesta stood there, stunned, as you walked away. She felt empty without your presence, the lingering sensations of your touch fading quickly. But she knew she wouldn't forget this moment, nor would she forget the promise of more. Dinner, she'd never been more intrigued by a meal in her life.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @minnieoo @velarisnightsky444}

[petalruesimblr]

Organic Fresh Delights Grocery

Sim File Share

Welcome to Organic Fresh Delights, your one-stop destination for all things fresh and organic! We're committed to providing the highest quality organic goods sourced directly from our local farmers and fisherman offering a vibrant selection of vegetables, fruits, premium cuts of meat and fish. We also have an array of products ranging from lush plants to food, drinks and essential household items. Step into our store and immerse yourself in a world of freshness, flavor, and sustainability.

Price: 72,780 Lot Size: 25x25 Lot Type: Visitors Allowed Store Content: Click here CC Used: Click here File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3, Late Night (floor), Pets (buydebug object), Ambitions, World Adventures (food register, gate from ATS3)

Hi everyone! I was going to share one of my older builds from years ago but I found out that most of the objects I used for that lot were in sim3pack format and most of the CCs I transferred over to my current setup have been converted to package files, which messed up the appearance of the lot. So, I've recreated it this time and I'm sharing a new grocery lot: the Organic Fresh Delights Grocery!

Click on the ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures on this lot.

For the rabbit hole, I placed it in an empty stockroom/office and have also locked the fire escape door and fence at the back of the lot so that sims can only enter the door inside the building. This was the only option that worked during playtesting so that sims can enter in and out of the rabbit hole inside the room only. If you want to open those doors though, you can do it by editing the lot and click CTRL + Shift + Right Click to choose the unlock option. Due to the lack of windows on the first floor, I have placed a lot of buydebug lights and it may be too bright during the night so you can adjust it by enabling “testingcheatsenabled true” and “buydebug on” after. 📣This lot is a bit CC-heavy, as I have used more cc compared to game objects and these are not included on the download file. I’ve compiled a list for those interested in downloading them separately (please click the links above or go to WCIF Navigation page). The Late Night and World Adventures expansion pack is required due to the build items used in the lot but I'm not sure about buydebug items so Pets may be required as well. 📣There are two CCs that I was unable to locate the original link namely: mtk_signdoors and Public Signs - CAStable both from Macthekat. I tried the direct links and it doesn't work anymore so I had to check using the Wayback Machine site and was able to find her Terms of Use from the old site, Pink Rabbit that states "All our products is shear-friendly - just make sure to give proper credit. You may include my work in sims packages if you want to" and "You may include my stuff into almost anything – it would be nice if you mention my name, but I can live without it. You may share my stuff." With those terms, I have re-uploaded them to sfs and if there is an updated TOU from the creator (or if you are Macthekat) that states otherwise please do let me know and I will take the links down. 📣If you want a functional grocery store in your gameplay, you can use Ani's Sell From Inventory mod. I have used a few storage or chest-like CCs and a food register from ATS3 that you can use. If you prefer Ani’s Savvier Seller instead, you may have to replace most of the items and use ATS3 Savvy's Seller Collection set instead. You can also check out Mookymilksims guide and tutorial video for realistic function shops using Savvier Seller mod. It is very easy to follow and has detailed instructions to help you out to make it work! Let me know if you experience any problems on your end.