#soap and water on his hands. the smell of fresh ingredients

[foremyth]

the fact that tōsen can cook might be my favorite part of his canon

[uhhhhmanda]

WIP Wednesday

From the twinfic:

Gaon was excited to start learning a new kitchen. Yagob had told him that Elijah and Yohan had sent him lists of ingredients to have on hand when they arrived, so Gaon knew he’d find what he needed. Yagob was up and dressed already. “You just got here, you don’t have to —” “But I want to. I like cooking. And when’s the last time you had a home-cooked Korean meal?” Yagob just blinked at him. “Yagob-ssi?” “I was trying to remember. Probably when I was 19. Before I left Korea. When we still had Cook.” “Ah, so you didn’t have to endure Nanny’s cooking,” said Gaon, to lighten the atmosphere. “Is it as bad as I’ve heard?” “It really is.” Yagob said he would supervise, but his idea of supervision was quite hands-on. Rather than sit at the table, he leaned against the counter just inches from Gaon’s elbow. He hooked his chin over Gaon’s shoulder to watch him sharpen the cleaver he’d bought new for their arrival and hadn’t used — didn’t even know how to use. It had the triangular shape Gaon preferred, rounded a little on the cutting edge so that he could rock it like a western chef’s knife as well as chop Asian style. The Kangs knew what he liked. The knowledge warmed him comfortably. Uncomfortably, Yagob was warming his back. He gave Gaon an audible sniff and announced, “You smell like hyung.” “We’re sharing a room,” Gaon reminded him. “I’ve lived in close quarters with Yohan before,” said Yagob. “Did you get any sleep? He’s awfully restless.” Before Gaon could answer, Yagob continued, “He wakes up horny as hell, too.” Gaon’s mind presented him with a vivid, multi-sensory replay of Yohan jerking off in the shower: the heat, the humidity, the smell of soap and shampoo, the hiss of the water, one so-soft-it-was-probably-imagined groan. Suddenly, Gaon’s back was cold. He turned and saw Yohan hauling Yagob over to the table by the back of his shirt. He tossed his brother bodily into a chair. Neither brother looked angry. Yohan showed only mild annoyance on his face and Yagob was grinning, happy to have attention, negative or positive. “If you make Gaon cut himself feeding us I’ll chop your hands off,” said Yohan, in a conversational tone. Yagob made a dismissive noise and slumped over the table, chin in his hands. Yohan was wearing one of his robes. His hair was damp and loose, long enough to brush his cheekbones. Without asking, he started measuring rice into the rice cooker. Gaon watched him try to wash it out of the corner of his eye. “You need to press your hand into the curve of the bowl more firmly,” Gaon directed. “You’re letting lots of grains pass by when you’re pouring off the water.” Gaon watched Yohan swirl fresh water in and try to strain it with his hand a second time. “Hoobae,” Gaon said. Yohan snapped to attention with a surprised smile. “Maybe a newbie like you should just use the strainer, eh?” Grinning now, Yohan dipped his head as if to a superior and sing-songed, “Yes, sunbae.” “Oh, I see how it is,” groaned Yagob, behind them. “I can’t flirt with your not-boyfriend but you can.” Yohan ignored his brother in favor of asking Gaon, sweetly, “Sunbae? Where is the strainer?” Gaon had a good idea of where everything was already, and answered, pointing, “That cupboard, hoobae.” “God, it’s too early for this shit,” grumbled Elijah, as she wheeled into the room.

[aneurinallday]

Gibson and the Shivering Soldier

Chapter 4: Mémoire

As the days passed, their lives fell into a comfortable rhythm. They helped each other cook, and took turns doing the housework, and became accustomed to each other’s bathroom schedule. William would try to teach Gibson English, and Gibson would try to teach William French; but little progress was made due to their shared awkwardness. The rest of their time was filled with board-games and cards, one of the few things that they could both understand.

In the mornings, William would make phone-calls and answer letters from the army. Desperate for a project to occupy his mind, he started pulling up the weeds and trimming the overgrown flower-bed outside - perhaps motivated by a subconscious desire to be presentable in the eyes of his guest. In the evenings, when there were fewer people about, they would go for a walk, or go to the shops just before closing time, so Gibson could go outside without feeling overwhelmed by too many voices.

The soft-spoken Frenchman seemed to have a keenness for baking, which William was happy to encourage. When he saw William preparing the ingredients to make bread, it was the first time he exhibited a desire to take charge. He gently shepherded the Englishman out of the way so that he could take command of the kitchen-top, and soon was engrossed in his work.

Seeing him knead the yeasted dough on the counter, with flour all the way up his forearms, William was struck by how focused he seemed. Gibson’s green eyes were clear and bright and full of concentration. He wasn’t thinking about bombs falling from the sky and sea-water filling his lungs, but about dough elasticity and whether he needed another pinch of salt.

What came out of the oven was a perfect, slashed loaf of French bread - crispy and golden-brown on the outside, fluffy and airy on the inside. William sawed off a slice and spread a thin scraping of butter on it, then took a crunchy bite while Gibson watched expectantly.

“Bien,” said William, “Definitely bien.”

Gibson smiled with a combination of pride and relief. It was the first time he’d looked happy.

From then on, whenever the ration cards allowed it, Gibson would make a batch of dough before bed so that he could leave it to rise overnight, and the next morning he would bake a fresh loaf, filling the flat with the cosy smell of baking.

It was Tuesday, June 18, and Gibson had been living in William’s flat for almost two weeks. After a supper of suet pudding and peas, it was Gibson’s turn to do the dishes. William sat in the living room, smoking a cigarette and listening to the evening radio. Churchill was repeating the great speech he’d made to the House of Commons earlier in the day. Behind him, he could hear water splashing in the kitchen sink, and cutlery clattering as Gibson washed up.

Gibson stood at the sink, staring absent-mindedly into the water as he scrubbed the gravy off the plates. He couldn’t understand what was being said on the radio, but the tinny voice crackling through the air-waves sounded solemn and authoritative. Turning on the hot tap, he started to rinse the soap off the plate. Water splashed from the ceramic curve, splattering the front of his shirt.

Suddenly, he became conscious of how wet his hands were. More water was gushing from the tap, a strong flow that beat against the bottom of the metal sink. And just like that, he was back in the darkness, back in the submerging hull.

He remembered everything.

He remembered the blue fishing trawler, sinking pathetically a stone’s throw from the beach.

He remembered the smell of a dozen terrified men who’d been cooped up together for hours, cowering on the floor from German bullets.

He remembered the water gushing and pouring through bullet-holes in the hull, and trying frantically to plug the flow.

He remembered Alex shouting something, indecipherable over all the noise; and turning his head - now chin-deep in water - just in time to see Alex climbing out of the ceiling hatch, disappearing from view.

He remembered taking a deep breath and lunging towards the hatch, only to be pushed back by the force of the sea.

He remembered the chain tangled around his torso. The pure panic setting in as he realised he couldn’t get another breath, and started struggling wildly.

Help me, he thought, Help me. But nobody helped him.

He opened his mouth in a reflexive attempt to gasp for air, but gulped down water instead, filling his lungs with agony.

His stolen khaki uniform was heavy with water, weighing him down, as if in revenge for being stripped off its dead owner.

The open hatch was so close he could see the sunlight outside, the ladder so close he could brush it with his fingertips. He was drowning less than a metre away from air, from escape, from his friends. He tried to cry out, bubbles streaming from his mouth, but it seemed Tommy and Alex couldn’t hear him from underwater.

He was barely conscious when the chain abruptly broke free, the sudden release sending him lurching forward against the rungs of the ladder. His body moved by itself. Without even thinking, he clawed at the ladder, dragging himself upwards, pure survival instinct propelling him towards the sunlight. Towards life.

As he emerged choking and spluttering into the open air, William was there waiting for him.

“Hey. Hey.” William gently rubbed Gibson’s arms, trying to still their violent tremors. “It’s alright. It’s alright.”

“Ne me quitte pas!” Gibson cried out.

“It’s alright! Breathe with me. Breathe. Breathe.”

Gibson found himself kneeling on the tiled floor of the little kitchen, shaking and sweating. The front of his shirt wet with soap bubbles. From where he was, he could see dust under the cupboards, and the corner of the wallpaper peeling away. But he could also see the blue trawler disappearing below the water, and the debris floating around him, and the overcrowded boats passing him by while he begged for help - dozens of men’s faces staring down at him, but not a single hand being offered.

“Ne me quitte pas, s'il vous plait,” he said. It was the most words he’d uttered in one go in almost a month.

“Hey. Look at me. Look at me.” William was crouching in front of him. “I’m here, and you’re here. We’re safe. See? We’re at home.”

For a while they stayed like that, Gibson trembling and gasping, William speaking softly - the words meaningless to the Frenchman’s ears, but the tone warm and consolatory.

“Let’s get you up, eh? Can you stand up?” He gave Gibson’s arms a tug. “Let’s get you off the floor.”

With William’s assistance, Gibson rose stiffly to his feet, his knees hurting from the tiles. William helped him to a chair and sat him down.

“There we go. I’ll put the kettle on.”

As Gibson’s glassy eyes followed him around the room, William filled the kettle, set it to boil, and started to prepare two cups of tea.

“There’s still some digestives left,” he said, giving the biscuit tin a shake to test its weight. “And the shortbread ones. You like those, don’t you? Tomorrow I’ll have to pop to the shop and see if they’ve got any more.”

As he listened to William’s teaspoon clinking against the sides of the cups, Gibson started to cry.

They’d left him behind. The Englishmen. The Highlanders. Alex. Tommy. He’d saved their lives twice - on the sinking ship when he’d freed them from below decks, and in the water afterwards, when he’d tossed them a rope - but they’d repaid him with abandonment. He’d been their friend, but they’d left him to drown.

He tried to take deep breaths to quell his sobs, but they just kept coming. He could still taste the seawater and feel his chest burning.

“Ma papa me manque,” he said, “Ma maman me manque.”

William stopped stirring, put aside his spoon, and sat down next to Gibson. He clasped Gibson’s clammy, trembling hands and held them. As he did so, he realised that his own hands were steady.

“I don’t know what you saw, back on that beach,” said William, “But I saw things too. There was a U-boat and a torpedo and…and…I ended up alone. Maybe you went through the same thing as me, maybe not. But the feeling is the same. You feel…weak. Useless. Like you failed. Like you don’t deserve to be alive. But it’s not true. You’re strong. You didn’t fail anything, because nothing was expected of you. You did exactly what you were supposed to do, which was stay alive. You deserve to be here. Alright?”

Gibson looked down and realised they were still holding hands. He quickly let go.

“Merci,” he said.

“Now, come on. Let’s have a cup of tea and a biscuit, shall we?”

It wasn’t the last time Gibson found himself trapped in a waking nightmare. Each time the panic returned, William was there for him. For the first time since Weymouth, William’s sense of detachment and disinterest was gone. Suddenly, he had a purpose. A responsibility. The numbness which had gripped him ever since he’d found himself alone on the water, had finally dissipated.

Gibson needed him.

Finally, William had something to do, other than just exist. A goal other than pure survival. Back in the English Channel, he’d been a shivering wreck, huddled on the deck of a civilian yacht, too afraid to venture below. Terrified that another torpedo would strike, and the sea would come flooding in, and  the hull would become his coffin. He was supposed to be an officer and a leader. But he’d lost his status and his crew. Lost his composure, his gentlemanly comportment. Lost everything.

But now, he was starting to feel like himself again. Being in a position to care for Gibson - to comfort him and protect him - made him feel useful and strong again. He was regaining his sense of authority and manhood.

His own nightmares were, if only for a little while, forgotten.

Chapter 5: Armistice

[thedomesticanthropologist]

3+ hour bathing routine?!?!?!? What tf do you smell like??? pure soap?!? Every single flower at once??!?!??!? Distilled water?!?!

((Oh. You asked for it. Prepare to RECEIVE ))

Morning Meditation and Cleansing (1 hour):

-Collect fresh hand towels and walk to the natural spring in the center of the garden. Strip down to smallclothes/pants, wash briefly in the cold, natural waters.

-Begin the day from then on with a meditation session amidst the lush garden, different from trancing. This is to strengthen and organize the mind.

-Perform a yoga routine to stretch his muscles and improve flexibility.

Hair Care Ritual (1 hour):

-Gather fresh herbs and flowers from his garden known for their nourishing properties, such as lavender, rosemary, and chamomile.

-Brew a concoction of herbal tea and let it cool to room temperature. Use a combination of previously dried herbs as well as fresh because they have different effects and properties.

-Wash his hair with the herbal tea mixture, gently massaging his scalp to stimulate blood flow and promote hair growth!

-Apply a homemade hair mask made from a blend of oils, and honey to nourish and hydrate his locks.

-Rinse thoroughly with clean water and allow his hair to air dry in the warm Feywild sunlight, ensuring it remains soft and shiny.

Skincare and Body Care (1 hour):

-Prepare a luxurious bath infused with fragrant flower petals, soothing essential oils, and natural salts.

-Cleanse his skin with a gentle homemade soap crafted from botanical ingredients like aloe vera, calendula, and oatmeal- or other combinations depending on the day and his mood.

-Exfoliate his body using a homemade sugar or salt scrub to slough away dead skin cells and reveal radiant, smooth skin.

-Apply a nourishing body oil or lotion made from oils, plant based butters, and vitamin E to moisturize and protect his skin.

-Perform a face care routine seperate from his body care as it requires different ingredients and methods!

-Trim and file his nails, push back cuticles, apply mineral oils to strength the nail bed, remove any dirt of dead skin, ensuring they are clean and well-groomed.

Throughout the routine, Sivvus takes his time!

[josephquinnswhore]

Eternal Destiny

Chapter 3 - The Prince of Dorne

Pairing: Prince Oberyn Martell x fem!Reader

Summary: Your menu for the Royal Wedding will need to be approved by the King and his fiancée. You see a familiar face and it leads to a dinner invitation with the Royals and a poisoning.

Word Count: 5k

Two whole nights without sleep, your brain felt fuzzy, and eyelids weighed down, your body and brain too restless to lie still enough in bed to get to sleep, it only gave the anxiety an opportunity to attach to you and grow like a fungus. Not wanting to give that anxiety a chance to attach, you gather your softest towel and turn the kettle on, boiling it while you shower. The warmth of the shower enveloping you whole as your body relaxes, the hot water running down your skin tickles you, humming in contempt as you soap up your lufer, taking the time to wash yourself, the coarseness of the lufer exfoliated your skin, scrubbing off any remnants of yesterday, trickling down the drain with the water. You squeeze a small amount of shampoo and rub your hands together, lathering the pomegranate-smelling substance before scrubbing your scalp of any dirt and grease. The smell of pomegranates and the steam from the hot shower cleared any doubts running through your mind, feeling weightless as you completely succumb to relaxation. Your expert fingers massage your scalp, paying extra attention to that spot behind your ears that's sensitive. You tilt your head back, the warm water rinsing the shampoo out of your hair as it trickles down your back. As you reach for the conditioner and apply it to the tips of your hair, you wonder what it would be like; to have someone do this for you. Having someone so intimately take care of you in a sensual way, your mind can't help but wonder to him. You didn't even know his name, those brown eyes with the sun hitting them gave them a honey-coloured hue, you found yourself lost in them, still seeing them perfectly as you memorized them in your mind, begging not to forget the eyes of the only man you've actually felt a connection with. Conditioner runs down your back as the water rinses it out of your hair, the slickness of it made the tiles beneath your feet slippery. You shut off the water, your brain protesting, not wanting to break the memory of him.

Your soft towel clung to your body, absorbing most of the water as you tread towards the mirror, you glide your arm across the mirror to clear the built-up fog-like blur that corrupts your image, your hair is still drenched and sticking to your skin in a way that itches. You spent time admiring your eyes, shape of your nose, your smile, your mind.

These affirmations became a daily ritual as you practice magic, the path least taken for those who practice, undermine the importance of confidence, self-worth, self-love; all things that give your mind more well fullness and sessions more successful.

The bitterness of the coffee lingers on your tongue, the aftertaste is unpleasant and quite frankly disgusting, however, you could definitely use a pick me up to get things rolling this morning. The more caffeine you consume, the less daunting your wedding menu folder becomes. Flipping it open and reading the slips, underline notes and confirmed items, you make some adjustments, removing the chocolate sauce from the panna cotta dessert and adding some extra intricate details. Finally happy with a result you think is satisfactory, you begin printing multiple copies, that in which Fredrick can present to the King and the rest of the Royal family. Feeling motivated, you decide to make an item off your menu, skimming through and you know; it's got to be the dessert, the panna cotta. You shuffle through your cupboard and gather the ingredients, which is always stocked with fresh ingredients and important pantry items.

Finding your fanciest serving glasses, you set them aside on the benchtop, away from where you're preparing. They were a gift from your grandmother, a relic she had cherished for 3 decades before handing them down to you as a gift once you had finished your qualifications. They had sat unused for years and had collected some dust that could easily be restored by washing them, figuring this is the perfect opportunity to showcase them with an equally stunning dessert.

You set aside the boiled gelatin mix, removing it from the heat to cool. You add remaining ingredients for the panna cotta mixture, knowing it would need at least 2 hours to set, as you add the last ingredient of Kefir yoghurt, the consistency is thick and sticking to the spatula, but still falling. You pour the mixture into the glass ramekins, making sure each has an equal amount, so they all set at the same time, and correctly. What a nightmare it would be to present someone in the royal family with an under-set pannacotta.

Making the mango jelly is a breeze, as you've done a dozen times, you add the rest of the cooled down gelatin mix to the mango jelly puree, that you'd made from fresh mangos. The aroma sends you into a frenzy, stomach grumbling at the emptiness while you cook for someone else.

You open the door to your fridge and pour the mango jelly mix on top of the semi-set pannacotta. Closing the fridge door, you slice up some fresh mango and set it in a small bowl, cling wrapping them to keep them fresh for presentation, the small purple and yellow edible flowers in the plastic container beside the mango. You set a timer for 2 hours, a precautionary check will be done to see if its set properly or if it will require the extra hour. Things were going smoothly, you wanted this to set the mood for the day, needing some reassurance you make way to your table littered with magical items. Using a match to light some candles, the last one more difficult as it was extremely burnt out, your attachment to this one candle used for your wellbeing and health rituals makes it unreasonable to throw it away.

As you begin to brew a small batch of Dexterity potion, you gather the ingredients, griding down the 2 sticks of water bloom herb to a fine powder before adding it to the water base you begin with, stirring precisely 26 times, adding another ground stick of water bloom, you stir 13 times, finally adding the last ground stick of water bloom, you let it sit for a moment as you partially grind up the 4 leaves you pick of a wind bloom leaf, stirring 22 times to complete the recipe. Skillfully, you pour the concoction into a small vile, the liquid shimmers as transparent but small hints of light blue, dabbing a few drops onto the skin on your wrist and subconsciously coating your finger in the liquid before tracing the black in on your forearm, a half of you that belonged to someone else. You plug the liquid with a wooden cork and slide it into a wooden holder for your vials, coloured potions filling the remaining slots. "Let this potion guide me to my destiny, all qualities of dexterity I beg to acquire, may I display finesse and mental quickness."

Just as you blow the flame out, the timer for your panna cotta times off, the shrieking of the timer creating a discomfort and rush to turn it off, sighing as you place it on top of your microwave, yes, you have a microwave. Qualified chef and all sometimes all you need is a cup of microwave 2-minute noodles.

You pull the tray towards you, still half hanging in the fridge and you jiggle it, inspecting the wobble of the pannacotta, lifting each ramekin and inspecting them individually before you decide they're satisfactory, they wouldn't need the extra hour. The confidence of succeeding in a dessert you'd done a dozen times, although nowhere near for anyone as important as the Royal family, had you excited. Rushing to your bedroom to get dressed, finding your finest attire, an emerald Green suit pant and blazer set, pairing them with a black shirt underneath and black heels, your hair was finally dry enough to brush and style in which you pull into a low pony tail, braiding it and twisting it around the hair tie to make a formal bun, two small strands were left out to frame your face. You took a moment to assess yourself in the mirror, the blazer set looking stunning on you, the emerald green an extension of your beauty.

Dialing Fredricks number, he answers within two rings, his cheery voice invading your senses as he greets you, "you're up early, you have no idea how pleased I am to hear from you. All good news I hope?" Early? He has no idea. "Of course, Fredrick, the menu is complete and ready for reviewing, I'm happy for you to collect them anytime you find a minute available." There's a pause and chatter in the background, likely confirming he could come immediately. "I'll be there at once, thank you for your swiftness." You chuckle at his formalness, "no problem at all, see you shortly." He hangs up the call as the end dial tone beeps in your ear and you gather all your items in a frenzy, your folder with multiple printed copies and images of what the dishes will look like, excluding the panna cotta as you'd be taking a physical image of one to them. You quickly and precisely place the fresh mango slices and edible flowers on top for presentation, the elegance shining through your hard work.

You put the lids on the ramekins and put the wooden frame in the cooler bag first, settling the glass and placing them in their holders so you knew they would stay upright and still.

There is a gentle knock at the door and your heels click loudly against the wooden floors of your living room, opening the door to see Fredrick, dressed in the same yellow and brown attire he wore when you first met him. "You look astonishing, allow David to take your bags while I escort you to the vehicle." Your confidence didn't shake as the uncomfortable thought of someone else possibly ruining all your hours of hard work in a matter of seconds. "I would prefer to have them on my person." Leaving no room for negotiation Fredrick shrugs his shoulder, David opts for opening your door which you thank him for, the leather of the backseat groans and creaks as you place your cooler bag and folder on it, the shiny material looking as if it had never been used.

David is silent as you and Fredrick make small talk on the 15-minute drive to the secluded Royal palace, the shrubs surrounding the brick fence were squared perfectly, not one leaf out of line, the giant black gate was 10 feet tall, the letters Martell inscribed in perfect cursive. The speaker box buzzed as David winds down the window, a voice emitting from the device. "Identification number." "D36829V." There was a moment of silence before the box lit up again, "David, who are the two passengers accompanying you?" You raised an eyebrow slightly, twitching as you tried not to look around, tried not to look suspicions, your brain trying to accuse you of things you aren't guilt for. "King Doran's personal assistant Fredrick and the Chef that will be catering his wedding, she's here for the review of menu." There was a loud buzz, the ignorant noise making you wince, the gates creak as they open, allowing you to divulge deeper into the palace. It was incredible, what you thought was a palace, was a small town. The sandy coloured buildings reflect the sun and the grass as green as you have ever seen, palm trees standing tall and the leaves swaying in the summer wind. Children in yellow robes litter the outside grounds, surrounding the car and trailing close behind, curiously following the car with you inside, it made your heart leap, children were so sweet like that.

"Please, take a seat and help yourself to any refreshments available. I'll be back with the Royals at once." He dismissed himself and you take in the beautiful room Fredrick led you to. There were three lounges, accompanied by the large Throne in the center. Your mouth gaping open as you admire the large pilons, the tall indoor plants and curtains that hung from the doorways, the artwork accentuating the old-fashioned style that had dissipated decades ago, the gold accents accentuating the sun as it shines through the open room. Bowls of fresh fruit and drinks available from cannisters which looked so old you couldn't guess which time they were from; it was beautiful, you were completely enamored by the elegance of the room. You picked your jaw up off the floor and stood, straightening your clothes neatly as two guards walk in, their golden and black robes inadequate in beauty in comparison to the King and his fiancé, Fredrick walking beside them, waiting to introduce them, you stand as you wait to greet them. You subconsciously bow as all lower-class citizens do when in the presence of the King and a laugh escapes his lips, "no need for the formalities, you are a welcome guest here in this palace." A smile creeps to your lips, "I'm grateful my King, I cannot express what an honor it is to meet you and your wonderful fiancé." "Yes, how rude of me. This is my fiancé, Lady Mellario." You take her hand and caress it with both hands, bowing your head, unable to rid yourself of formalities, "It is an honor, my Lady." She smiles sweetly at you, with a kindness that feels intoxicating, "Isn't she the sweetest?"

Your confidence seemed to be holding strong, although you were blushing furiously at the Lady, her compliments burning your cheeks in a fiery tingle you were sure they were aware of. “Please do sit, I apologise for my brother, The Prince has never been known for being on time, even for important occasions.” Important? The King thinks this meeting with you is important? Or are you misreading him?

“Please don’t apologise, I truly don’t mind waiting at all.” The King gestures for you to sit on the lounge right adjacent to him, the Lady taking a single sofa next to the Throne. You sit as gracefully as you can manage, soothing the wrinkles in your blazer and pressing your knees together, your hands resting on your knees. A few minutes pass in silence, although not uncomfortable you wished the Prince would arrive to stop the anxiety that was bubbling in your throat, threatening to worsen with every minute of his absence.

You hear him before he enters the room, his sweet velvety voice had sent a shiver down your spine, your mark on your forearm tingling, your heart starts racing at the familiarity of it all. Could it be?

You stand to greet the Prince and you lock eyes with him once he’s standing but a few feet ahead of you, advancing towards you, the golden robe that clung perfectly to his muscled body swayed behind him, your heart was so erratic you could barely hear anything but. His presence had you almost frozen, reminiscing from that day at the market, it was him, the man from the market was the Prince of Dorne. You notice the woman next to him, assuming his wife, recognizing her had your face dropping, the lady that threatened you to stay away-she was telling the truth at least, she was the Prince’s wife, suddenly the room felt stuffy, your lungs filling with what felt like concrete and you felt like you could suffocate inside, on the outside you muster the fakest smile you could, bowing to the Prince and the Princess, wishing you could just waste away and not have to be here for a moment longer.

-

The way her face dropped when she saw his paramour had him furious, the pieces of the puzzle coming together, how Ellaria has assured him that the problem was taken care of, he had a moment to wonder what she did. He couldn’t ponder on the thought for long before she bowed before him and gave him a fake smile, an imposters smile, he felt himself craving his smile; the one you had given him at the market, but he realized things were changing, probably for the worst now that Ellaria was involved.

-

You take a seat back to your original place on the yellow couch, the Prince and the Princess taking their seat across from you at Oberyn’s request. “Thank you for joining us Oberyn, I must suggest we start with the meeting.” King Doran looks to you and you nod, swiftly agreeing and beginning to take the files out of your folder. “Fredrick if you don’t mind?” “With pleasure.” He hands around the slips with the menu, photos and their original preference sheet.

You start your presentation, “to start with we have two options for the entree. First is a mushroom risotto with freshly shaved Parmesan cheese. The second is a bacon wrapped pesto pork tenderloin.” You had taken a risk with the tenderloin, it was hardly fine dining let alone elegant enough to be served at a wedding, but you knew if they liked the idea it would be a massive success. It was a calculated risk that you decided to take, apparently to the Kings liking. “I admire your confidence, and the risk you’re taking of the meals being too.. simple. However in this instance I must reward you for creating something that is exactly the food we love to eat.” You exhale at the Kings compliment, and the agreeing murmurs from his fiancé. “Thank you sir, I wanted to incorporate some of the notes that were written on the preference sheet, including branching to a vegetarian option for those who wish to try something new, take a new route.”

“Onto Mains; the first dish I’ve listed is a personal favourite, roasted duck with a sweet-sour blackberry and orange sauce. Secondly we have the classic beef Wellington, cooked to your preference, I myself like to eat mine rare.” King Doran loudly agreed, groans of approval accompanied by rumbling stomachs. “Lastly we have the chicken Galliano, strictly cooked well done.” Your sense of humour paid off with chuckles filling the room, Ellaria stayed silent beside Oberyn, curling her feet up onto the lounge as she rolled her eyes.

“Now to deserts: the first option is a Coconut Honey Shortbread, it’s light and the perfect option for someone who is full but still needing a sweet fix at the end of the night. Lastly my personal favourite is the Mango Jelly Kefir panacotta with edible flowers.”

“I did notice there is no available photo for the latter dessert, is this a new dessert of yours?” The hesitation in the Kings voice was justified, who would want someone experimenting food for their wedding. You slip the folder off your lap and place it onto the lounge beside you, reaching into your bag, “that would be unacceptable of me to do so, King Doran. I thought it would be unnecessary to provide a printed image when I have bought along a sample for you to taste, made fresh this morning.” You stand and Fredrick takes two ramekins to the King and his fiancé, you walk to Oberyn and his hands caress yours as he takes it from you; consciously you try not to crush the glass in your hands as you hand it to him, digging the spoon straight into his dessert, Ellaria snatched it from your hands and you retreated to your seat and waited anxiously. Rubbing your hands along the material of your clothed leg to wipe off the sweat that had started to built.

An obscene noise leaves Oberyn’s mouth as he divulges into your dessert, savoring the flavors that was made by your hands. The noise sent a tingle through your body and nestled in your cunt. His head not looking up, but his eyes met yours through his long eyelashes, in reaction you clench your thighs together, your clit begging for some sort of friction and is granted when the seam of your pants rub on your clit harshly, you grit your teeth and bite your tongue, swallowing the moan that threatened to escape. “Oberyn let’s not make our guest uncomfortable.” Oberyn starts to lick the inside of the ramekin, maintaining eye contact, the white dessert sticking to his moustache as he pulls the glass away from his sticky lips, “I don’t think she minds, do you gorgeous?” Your cheeks feel red, you don’t bother to look away and laugh, facing the King who had one eyebrow raised at his brothers antics. “Truly I do not mind. I find the banter amusing.” King Doran shrugs, accepting your answer. “I must settle and agree we’re all on the same page about how wonderful that dessert is, and the entire menu we are delighted with.” A sense of pride fills your chest, puffing it slightly, showing your pride. Fredrick collects the ramekins, and all are empty but Ellaria’s who had eaten only half. “I disagree. It’s simply not good enough for a Kings wedding.” You bite your lip, failing to hide your disappointment as your shoulders slightly deflate, an action that everyone in the room noticed, “I apologise Princess, I would be happy to make something more to your liking.” King Doran scoffs, “she is no Princess, merely Oberyn’s paramour.” Ellaria stands, infuriated by your presence and the way the King supported you. “The only reason we are not wed is because you refused us. It’s not for lack of love, is it darling?” Oberyn was silent, Ellaria’s face was bright red, she rushed towards you with a look in her eyes that scared you. Subconsciously you shrink and make yourself look smaller, her previous threats raw in your mind as she stands before you, standing over you.

“You did this, you corrupted him.” She points her finger and the King had decided he’s seen enough. “Guards! Escort this woman out of this room and she is excused from joining us for dinner this evening.” The guards restrain the seething woman, shouting obscenities on her way out, all of them directed at you. The King stands from his throne and guides you to stand, “we would like it if you would please join us for dinner, I’m deeply sorry about her.” You nod meekly, accepting his offer although still worried about being in the same building as the woman that held so much rage towards you. “My brother is your destiny after all, how could you refuse?” Your mouth is left agape as he walks away with a smirk, his fiancé on his arm as he shouts before exiting the room, “Oberyn, you’ll show her to her room. Nothing more.” He warns, walking out and leaving you with him.

He approaches you slowly, his arms taking your hands in his, holding them to his face. “I cannot apologise enough for your poor treatment.” You shrink under the eyes of Oberyn, exposing his vulnerable side to you. “It’s okay-“ he shakes his head before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “don’t you dare. Don’t excuse her behavior, she’s dangerous.” “Oh.” You were speechless, why did destiny pair you with a man whom was involved with a woman that wanted to hurt you?

“I’ll escort you to your chambers, you can freshen up there before dinner.” The walk through the halls were silent, you admired the beauty of this building, quiet gasps of awe didn’t go unheard by Oberyn, in fact he adored the noise, he adored you.

You soon came to a stop in front of a giant door, he opened it and the room was huge, a massive wooden bathtub in the center of the room, a King-sized bed and a beautiful bed frame with silk bedsheets, the sun had begun setting, painting a beautiful picture of purples, pinks and yellow. “Wow, are you sure this is for me?” Oberyn guided you in and followed shortly behind, turning on the hot water for you and moving to the bench to pour a glass of champagne. “All for you.” His body moved against yours, your back to his stomach, your body stills nervously, and his lips grazed your ears. “Check the cupboard for your gown. Enjoy yourself gorgeous, I’ll see you at dinner.” The scruff of his facial hair tickled your neck as he pulled away, the ghost of him remained well after he left. As you emerged yourself in the hot water of the bubble bath in the tub, you sip on your champagne and your hand of its own accord started to slip under the surface of the bubbles, rubbing your clit in perfect circles, finally relieving some of the pressure that had built, thinking of him, wishing he was touching you, unknown to you he was outside of your door listening to you moan his name as you touched yourself, his cock hardening at your hushed whimpers.

You pull open the cupboard and find a dress, it’s beyond anything you could’ve ever seen yourself in, a floor length gold dress, accents all over that make the dress shimmer, a sweetheart neckline that fit perfectly, showing a sexy-but not obscene amount of your breasts. You slide on your black heels and let your hair loose, wavy curls falling down your back from being in a braid all day.

As promised, Fredrick met you at your door, escorting you to the dining room, walking through many halls you were so sure you’d get lost in.

The dining room was stunning, the dark wooden table was clothed with the finest linen you’d ever seen, the soft almost velvety touch under your fingers. The giant crystal chandelier hung low to the table and you gasped in awe, the trinkets reflecting a rainbow hue on the walls. King Doran and his fiancée were waiting for you, standing to greet you and you sat across from an empty seat, wondering if Oberyn would be join you.

“Oberyn how wonderful of you to finally join us.” King Doran jested. You took him in as he walked through the hall, his body half slumped and eyes filled with someone indescribable. “Apologises, had some things to take care of.” I had to deal with Ellaria.

His eyes meet yours and you didn’t realise you were starting, thankfully you were interrupted by the waiter, announcing dinner was prepared and ready to be served, 4 waiters bought food to the table, the smell was incredible. A giant roast chicken sat in the centre of the table, roasted vegetables, corn and fresh bread. It smelt absolutely incredible. “Wine, for her lady?” You shake your head in refusal and the King dismisses you, “you must have at least one drink, what’s your taste? We have it all.” You didn’t deny it, they surely would have every year and flavour of wine, you opted for your favourite; 1990 Penfolds Bin 920 Cabernet Shiraz. “A woman with expensive taste, fetch the lady her wine.” You bit your lip, that was a $600 bottle of red wine, you couldn’t help but feel guilty, you were a guest requesting something that expensive. A hand met your own, “what’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?” His thumb rubbing your hand reassuringly. “It’s nothing at all, just hope I’m not imposing or anything.” I hope you’re not mad I’m sitting in your paramours seat.

He frowns at your admission, seeing through your kindness to your true anxiety. “I want you here. Fret no longer, darling. Enjoy your meal.” You smiled, a true eye crinkling smile that makes his heart leap, the same smile he wished to see every day for the rest of forever. You dished yourself some slices of chicken, roast vegetables and a slice of fresh buttered bread, the smell of the bread erupts a groan from you. “Satisfactory to your liking?” King Doran questions you, “do you want the ‘me’ answer or the Chef answer?” The King chuckles and you join him, easily relaxing around the men you haven’t known long. “Both, if you’re willing to share.” You clear your throat with some cold water and set it back on the coaster, “I like it, it smells incredible, crunchy crust and soft on the inside. The chef in me just wishes for a little more salt in the dough.” “You’re good at picking up on things, aren’t you?” Oberyn watches you eagerly, knowing you’re picking up on the sultry nature behind his question. “I like to think I’m reasonable.” Neutral. Don’t make the King and his fiancée uncomfortable, you’re here on business-not pleasure. Unfortunately.

The waiter comes back with the wine and opens it for you, pouring the deep red goodness into your cup, the smell was a little off, a strange aroma emitting from the wine, the walnut, blackcurrant and vanilla tones overwhelmed by something potent, a scent that had your nostril hairs singe when you first take a whiff, your face scrunching as you did so. The King sets his cutlery down, “Is there an issue with the wine?” You frown, not wanting to cause a scene, “It smells a bit off to me, but I’m sure it’s fine!” You bring your lips to the rim of the cup, lips closed over it, and before you can drink Oberyn slaps the wine glass from your hands, spilling the crimson liquid all over the once pearl while table linen. “Don’t drink that.” You look around confused, looking to the cup in Oberyn’s hand you see a yellow-transparent liquid around the rim, immediately you realised how badly you fucked up. It wasn’t the wine-it was the cup, the rim tainted with poison?

Your body seizes up and you fall to the floor, body crippled in pain and you start seeing doubles in your vision, Oberyn chanting your name frantically as he shakes you. Falling into the lulling call of unconsciousness as it sings out to you, wishing you trusted your intuition as she tried to warn you, now it was too late, whatever density had in store for you was already decided.

[deandoesthingstome]

hi charlie! it's me again with more questions 😋

what do you think walter smells like? does he have a favorite cologne?

Hey Nonny!

So I gave this some thought and have a few ideas.

First, I feel like movie Walter is a basic bar soap and water kinda guy. I'm not even sure he knows what body wash is. 'Fresh from the shower' is probably just whatever he grabbed from the store last time. And I feel like he sticks to a very basic, clean scent.

I also don't think he bothers with cologne with any kind of regularity. Might not even own any. It's extraneous; he's already taken time to shower and change and stopping to spritz cologne takes that extra moment he could be working any case.

At least, that's how it's always been. Especially since the divorce. But then he met you. And he'd technically already dressed and was on his way out the door when he stopped, hand in mid-air as he reached for the handle.

You always smell so good. Everytime he's been around you. Of course he's picked up your scent, and knows just when he's about to run into you at the coffee shop or grabbing groceries. He either winds his way through the evaporating aroma to settle behind you in line, or sniffs the air as the scent enters his periphery, ready to scoot down the aisle so you can grab what you need off the shelf. Maybe he dares hope you're looking for a top shelf ingredient he's conveniently available to reach for you.

Anyway, it's a first date, and he's never been one to sweat it for these things, usually set-ups that go nowhere. But maybe he ought to dig that bottle out of his top drawer for this one.

It's earthy and musky (you'll mention it later, in the throes of the effect its gonna have on you), and mingles perfectly with his own natural scent (which you'll also mention, because not that you don't appreciate the effort tonight, you also want to know what a deep noseful of just 'Walter' would be like; maybe sans cologne next time?) And he won't last after you admit that. Is pleased this first date is going so well, but knowing you want more is sending him into overdrive.

So yeah, maybe he smells like that?

[billysgirllol]

"and then i barely remember how that happened." how she ended up being the one holding the gun, she didn't even know that's the type of response she'd have in a situation like that. "i say i will," lucy gray nods, smiling gently. once she gets him in bed, she'll do just that. "i can tell you're genuinely sorry," the brunette decides as her eyes study his and she listens to his voice, "so i'm here to say... i forgive you. you don't gotta apologize no more." all her anger dissipates towards him, even if her trust is still shaky she'll learn to still let all the anger in her go. "i do, guess i'll have to add some of that when we're done in the water." just put a little of that on and the cuts should be fine after that. "well now, i said i forgive you. you don't gotta go doin' all that charmin'." she softly smiled as the songstress teased, lifting a small hand and gently squeezing his chin. "alright, sounds good." a nod at their compromise, excited to have a helper. "mhm, sure is." sadly enough.. about why men were created to be so cold and distant. maybe they just didn't get enough love as children, maybe it explained why billy was kinder than most. since he talked so highly about his mother.

"flowers are some of the ingredients in a lot of the soaps." she got to excitedly confirm to him, making her giggle too because he's soon going to smell like a fresh garden of daisies. "he don't," lucy gray confirms, her expressions fading a little, "he says i'm better off stayin' right here in our own bubble, away from the dangers from the world." but then she thinks about how she was right here, right at home, and billy yet showed up. a kind stranger, by some luck. but it just goes to show danger can still find you, so she thinks it's all just maybe nonsense. "didn't know anyone was so concerned about what happens to my bottom." going back to laughing at that, holding tightly onto the taller's hand before she sighs of relief once he's seated in the bathtub and now plops herself down in the chair next to the tub. rolling up her white sleeves to her elbows, lucy gray reaches for the cloth and the bar of soap before shifting back around in her seat. dipping the cloth in the water first before scrubbing soap into it. "well, neither should you." she decides, not wanting to see him hurt either. "no, darlin'. just here on earth with me. the closest to heaven on earth you'll get." the witty girl playfully sassed, starting to gently rub the cloth over his chest and neck, being careful to where the sun had clearly burned his skin. ready to slap his hand away if he tries to do this by himself, too.

“yeah,  that’s  exactly  what  happened.  we  both  acted  on  impulse,  all  because  we  didn’t  really  trust  each  other.  i  guess  we  still  don’t…  but  we’ll  work  on  that.”  the  cowboy  nods  in  agreement,  somewhat  surprised  by  how  sensible  lucy  gray’s  response  is.  most  people  would  never  speak  to  him  again  after  something  like  that,  but  not  this  girl  —  instead  of  kicking  him  out,  she’s  found  a  way  to  explain  their  behavior.  “i  have  to  admit,  though,  you  did  win  that  fight.”  after  all,  in  the  end,  she  was  the  one  holding  the  gun.  “maybe  you  should  take  a  nice,  relaxing  bath  later  tonight,  too.  it  could  help  with  your  back.”  he’s  somewhat  relieved  to  hear  the  ache’s  ebbing  away,  but  at  the  same  time  he  can’t  be  sure  she’s  not  downplaying  the  extent  of  her  injuries  to  make  him  feel  better.  “i’m  so  sorry,”  he  repeats  quietly,  like  a  broken  record.  all  because  he  genuinely  is  sorry.  “do  you  have  any  iodine?  my  ma  always  put  it  on  scratches  and  cuts.”  and  it  seemed  to  work  wonders.  “okay,”  he  agrees  eagerly,  just  happy  to  be  granted  the  opportunity  to  repay  her  for  all  this  kindness.  “i  can  do  both.  i’ll  sweep  and  pick  weeds.”  and  follow  her  around,  trying  to  see  what  else  he  can  help  her  with.  “a  friendly  giant?  that  does  suit  you,  lucy  gray.  friendly  and  talented  and  creative  and  smart,”  he  lists  off,  a  sweet  smile  tugging  at  the  corners  of  his  lips.

“i  don’t  understand  that  either  if  i’m  being  completely  honest  with  you,”  billy  lets  out  a  heavy  sigh,  shoulders  lifting  in  a  shrug.  he’s  been  asking  himself  this  very  question  for  years  and  can’t  seem  to  find  the  answer.  “it’s  a  rare  enough  occurrence,  a  man  who  takes  care  of  his  children  with  the  same  amount  of  love  and  care  as  a  woman.”  it  has  him  thinking  about  the  future,  for  some  reason.  if  he’s  ever,  by  some  miracle,  blessed  with  a  family,  he’ll  do  everything  in  his  power  to  make  sure  his  children  feel  like  they’re  living  in  a  fairytale.  it  won’t  be  just  his  wife’s  job.  “that’s  fascinating,”  he  murmurs,  picking  a  different  bottle,  pale  blue  eyes  studying  it  in  wonderment.  “what’s  this  one  made  of?  flowers?”  curiosity  getting  the  best  of  him,  he  gives  it  a  gentle  shake  before  sniffing.  “so,  your  father…  he  doesn’t  let  you  go  out  a  lot,  does  he?”  it  seems  that  the  only  time  she’s  around  people,  it’s  either  at  church  or  while  she’s  with  that  covey  of  hers.  “just  sayin’  it  as  it  is,”  he  laughs  along  with  her,  not  one  to  argue  with  a  lady  over  her  opinion  about  male  parts.  “hey,  if  i  don’t  worry  about  your  behind,  who  will?  it  looks  like  you  don’t  care  about  it  at  all,  trying  to  feed  snakes  and  fish  with  it.”  he  doesn’t  say  anything  about  creeks  and  rivers,  feeling  silly  for  fearing  them  to  a  certain  degree  ever  since  that  horrible  accident  during  their  journey  west. “i  guess,  but…  that  doesn’t  mean  you  should  do  something  dangerous,  too.”  he  holds  onto  her  as  he  climbs  into  the  tub,  warm  water  licking  his  sore  calves  and  momentarily  relieving  his  sore  muscles.  he  lets  go  of  her  arm  and  quickly  discards  the  towel,  sitting  down  and  pulling  his  knees  to  his  chest.  just  to  make  sure  she  won’t  see  anything.  now  this  feels  so  nice…  “are  we  sure  i’m  not  in  heaven,  lucy  gray?  it  smells  and  feels  like  heaven.”

[mianavs]

No Escape

You wanted to start a new life but your old one wasn’t done with you just yet

Osamu x runaway!reader

a piece i wrote for @sugawara-sweetheart​ ‘s decadence collab 

a/n: heavily inspired by my time working at a restaurant minus the hot boss bit. using Kobe as the location of Miya Onigiri 

tw: smut, assault, implied imprisonment

wc: 1.8k+

It’s only been three months since you ran away to Kobe but you’re already settling comfortably into your new life.

The studio you’re renting is tiny and the faint smell of mildew doesn’t leave no matter how much baking soda and vinegar you use to clean the walls and floors—you can’t stand the smell of bleach. Nevertheless, it’s warm and inviting after a long day at work when all you want to do is collapse on your bed to give your weary legs a break. Most importantly, it’s your home and no one is there to lock you in while taking away the key.

Your work is hands-down the best thing about your life. There is no where you’d rather be than in a hot kitchen with sweat dripping down your face as you chop ingredients, sauté vegetables, and plate your creations. It all started with a home economics class in high school that led you into accepting a scholarship to a culinary school that you attended for a year before your life was turned upside down by—

“Y/N! The order! Is it done?”

Your head snaps up to find your boss Osamu Miya drumming his fingers on the counter as he stares you down, thick brows knitted together. You suck in a breath and dart your eyes down to the three onigiri that have yet to be coated with Furikake seasoning. Swiftly, you press the seasoning onto the rice balls before handing the plate over to your boss.

“Done!”

Osamu looks up from the plate and lets his eyes linger on you before nodding wordlessly and taking the food to the customer. It’s a busy Friday evening and you’re understaffed again so Osamu’s waiting tables while you’re working the kitchen along with two other cooks. The orders pile up on the line and adrenaline courses through your veins as you dart around the kitchen gathering ingredients and dodging your coworkers.

Shifts like these drain all your energy and by the time the clock hits 10pm, your legs feel as if they’ll fall off at any moment. Still, you don’t mind the hectic rushes during the day because they keep you from revisiting the painful memories you keep buried away in the darkest recesses of your mind.

Cleaning up after a long busy shift is the hardest part about working at a restaurant like Onigiri Miya. The building is old and the unwelcome critters like to come out at night, so Osamu is quite anal about storing ingredients and cleaning.

It’s not that you hate cleaning but obsessive cleanliness makes your blood run cold and your throat close up until you can’t breathe. It takes you back to that pristine home that became your own personal hell.

You’re scrubbing the outside of the huge metal rice cooker when one of your coworkers lets out a yelp which is followed by the sound of splashing water. The acrid fumes of bleach assault your nose and you look down to see your shoes covered with the cleaning agent.

The scrub sponge slips from your hand as a wave of nausea sweeps over you. Bile rises up your throat and you grip onto the nearby wall to get on your feet before staggering to the bathroom.

The flickering lights of the dingy bathroom distort your vision further but you make a beeline to the sink regardless. You turn on the hot water and pump a ridiculous amount of soap before frantically rubbing your hands together until your skin is red and raw. Your heart hammers inside your heaving chest and hot tears blur your vision as the voice that haunts your nightmares rings in your ears.

Filthy

Dirty

Gross

You’ll never be clean without me

You nearly jump out of your skin when a heavy hand lands on your shoulder. Every muscle in your body tenses painfully and a single thought echoes in your head like a mantra.

He found me

He found me

He found me

But it isn’t him. It’s Osamu forcing you to face him as his fingers dig into your shoulders. Suddenly, you can breathe again and you deflate like a balloon.

“You’re okay, Y/N. I got you.” His rich voice never fails to calm you down during your panic attacks and you wonder how you ever got so lucky to have him as a boss and—

He pulls you to him, pressing his lips against yours in an abrupt kiss. He coaxes you to submit with every languid stroke of his tongue, every touch that burns through your clothes, every groan that rumbles in his chest. Your body always resists him at first and you wonder if it’s due to the wounds of your past that still feel fresh or the inappropriateness of your relationship because Osamu is your boss. Those thoughts eventually melt away along with your resistance and you open up to him in more ways than one.

It’s your first time at his flat but you don’t see much of it because he has you against his front door as soon as you cross the threshold. His lips latch on to your sensitive neck, swiping his teeth against your skin and littering it with marks. It isn’t until his hand buries itself inside your undone pants that your lustful haze dampens.

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your protest falls on deaf ears as Osamu palms your throbbing clit and pushes two long digits into your needy cunt. A jolt of pleasure runs through your body and you grasp at his shoulders, hair, and back while he pumps his fingers at a fast but steady pace.

From your previous trysts at the restaurant, Osamu already knows his way around the fleshy walls of your cunt and aims toward that spot that has you coming undone in minutes. You’re keening and holding on to him for dear life when your release washes over you and covers his entire hand and wrist. Like clockwork, shame and terror take root and a cruel husky voice embedded in your memory resurfaces.

Dirty

That one word is all it takes for you to unlatch yourself from Osamu and glance at the mess you’ve made. You’re trembling like a leaf waiting for a heavy hand to send you across the floor or for harsh fingers to grip your hair to throw you like a ragdoll, but Osamu isn’t him so he brings his two fingers to his mouth and licks them clean; his eyes locked onto yours the entire time.

That single action is what breaks down any lingering walls that still stood between you and your boss and you rush at him planting a hungry kiss on his lips, savoring the taste of your cum still on them. He matches your fervent kiss and leads you to his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in your wake.

You end up on his lap with his cock buried inside your messy cunt and you see stars with every upward thrust of his hips. He latches his mouth onto a nipple and suckles on it until it’s red and throbbing before switching to the other.

“S-Samu! Ah-”

He bites down on your nipple and it’s the explosion of pain that drives you over the edge—the way your body was trained to do. Your fleshy walls convulse around his cock and cum gushes out of you coating your conjoined bodies.

“Fuck-”

Osamu curses and buries his teeth into your shoulder as hot spurts of semen shoot into your womb and fill you up to the brim. The two of you cling onto each other as the aftershocks of your orgasms subside. There’s a stinging pain coming from your breast and shoulder and you know without looking that he’s drawn blood.

But you’re used to it and at least Osamu doesn’t kick you off him and call you a filthy whore.

He eventually pulls you into bed with him but the itching need to clean yourself overwhelms you.

“We should clean ourselves up.” You suggest, pushing against his chest to no avail.

“Later,” he mumbles and tightens his hold until there’s no space between you. “How about you stay the night?”

It’s posed as a question but it’s more like a statement especially since he has no intention of letting you go. There’s a foreboding tightness in your chest but Osamu presses a loving kiss on the top of your head and you forget all about it.

You wake up to the sound of male voices but a husky voice stands out from the others. It’s a voice you know all too well because it haunts you night and day. Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s in the bedroom conversing with two other people and your heart shatters when you hear Osamu. You keep your eyes closed praying that they leave the room so you can figure something out but the conversation suddenly stops.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

A cold hand sweeps a strand of your hair to the side and the nauseating smell of hand sanitizer has bile rising up your throat.

In a bout of madness, you launch a pillow at Kiyoomi Sakusa and make a break for the door. You take a couple of steps before two pairs of hands stop you. It’s Osamu and a man who looks just like him who hold you down while you struggle against them like a wild animal.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARDS! LET ME GO! LET M-”

Sakusa’s hand goes up and then there’s a loud crack followed by throbbing pain on the side of your face. Even with your blurry vision you can still make out the disgust on Sakusa’s face as he watches you cough up blood.

“It doesn’t matter how loud you are. No one will come for you.”

He crouches down in front of you and his lips twitch in amusement as you struggle against Osamu and his twin brother. Cold black eyes examine your face before his hand digs into his pocket and takes out a handkerchief.

“I thought I lost you forever, Y/N. Thankfully, Miya introduced me to his brother who just so happened to know a certain girl from Tokyo with a mysterious past.” He wipes the blood off your face and watches the fight in your eyes die out with every word he utters.

“You don’t know how worried I was when I came home and you weren’t in your room.”

Your stomach lurches when he brings his face to your head and inhales your scent the way he always did since your high school days when you didn’t think anything of it. You curse the day you ever decided to befriend Sakusa.

“You’ll have to be punished, of course, but I promised Osamu I wouldn’t be too harsh with you. After all, you’ll belong to the three of us now.”

As if on cue, Osamu presses a wet kiss on your cheek and memories of last night cause hot angry tears to stream down your face. You were foolish to trust Osamu but even more foolish to think you could ever escape you captor.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Reignite - Part 2

Summary: You had expected married life to be more exciting than it had become only a few years into being Mrs Byun. Deciding to work on reigniting your passion with your Baekhyun, you find along the way that being comfortable with your husband wasn’t so bad.

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x female reader

Genre: romance / married life au

Warnings: suggestive content

Prompt: “You’ve got to be kidding me!” for @challengingwords​ monthly challenge

Word count: 1311

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“Promise me that you’ll have time for me tonight,” you said to your husband over the phone, and Baekhyun chuckled.

“I have time for you every night. But what’s special about tonight?”

“I’m not going to tell you until later.”

“Not even a tidbit?” he wondered, and you grinned at his persistence. “A taste for what’s to come.”

“Remember our last night in Bora Bora?” you mentioned, hoping to sound alluring.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. Do you plan to kill me tonight?” he exclaimed, and you grinned at the eagerness in Baekyun’s tone. “I’ll make sure I’m home on time. Heck, I’ll leave early!”

“You better, or I’ll just have to treat myself to dessert alone.”

“That’s not happening on my watch,” he assured you, and after exchanging an affectionate farewell, you hung up.

After talking to Stacie at lunch, you had been stewing over what you could do to spice things up immediately. You decided to properly wine and dine Baekhyun and hope he’d be all too appreciative of your efforts to keep you up all night long singing out your praises. The exhaustion would be worth it, and you hadn’t been this excited in weeks.

After work, you dropped by the grocers for fresh ingredients for dinner, and once home, you changed and got to work. You even managed to find a couple of candles to put in the centre of the table.

“The house smells divine!” Baekhyun called out upon arrival, fifteen minutes earlier than usual. After greeting you with a kiss that got your heart pounding, he pulled back and grinned at you. “But you smell even better. What’s all this about?”

“We haven’t done date night in a while, so I figured I’d spoil you tonight.”

“I’m very grateful to have a wonderful wife. I hope you know this.”

Your mood was already improving with his reactions to your efforts.

Dinner was flirty, and for a moment, you forgot all about your previous concerns. The fire was stoked within, and you were anticipating the lick of the heated flames to come. Sauntering over to the bathroom door, you smirked. “I’m just going to freshen up.”

“Why bother when I plan to make you dirty again?” Baekhyun admitted, eying you appreciatively. “No, wait. You should. I always love the way you smell after a shower.”

“Won’t be long,” you told him, slipping into the bathroom and practically skipping over to the shower.

You washed your hair happily and soaped your body up with your most fragrant of washes before turning off the water and patting your skin dry. Although you enjoyed it whenever Baekhyun unwrapped you from your clothes like a present, you were far too needy for him now, and after dropping the towel, you headed into your bedroom where you found the lighting to be dimmed romantically.

You bit your bottom lip to control your eagerness. “Are you ready for me?”

You were met with silence.

Looking towards the bed, you were certain the lump under the blankets was Baekhyun. Walking over to him, you were almost at the foot of the bed when you heard it.

He was snoring.

“Baekhyun,” you said loudly, placing your hands on your hips. “Are you asleep already?!”

The only noise you heard was his even heavy breathing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?!” you whined, sitting on the edge of the bed and thumping his legs.

He moved around, soon still again within his slumber. Getting up and fishing out your most boring set of pyjamas, you put them on and took yourself over to your side of the bed.

If he woke up, he sure as hell wasn’t going to get an inch of pleasure out of you now.

Another week went by, and you were back to feeling frustrated. Instead of voicing your concerns to Stacie, though, you waited until Baekhyun asked you himself.

“Okay, moody pants, what’s up? What did I do wrong now?” he asked, gauging your immediate reaction for whether he ought to put something in front of him as a shield. His expression softened when you merely stared back at him. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel married life has sucked away our romantic sides?”

He shook his head and sat down beside you. “Not really. Why? Wait, is this about last week? I apologised for falling asleep. You fed me so well, I was knocked right out as soon as I laid down.”

“It’s not that. Well, I mean, that adds to it, but I’m just concerned about us. Back when it was all so new to us, I’d always be giddy whenever you just looked at me. Now, I don’t feel those same flutters.”

Baekhyun inspected his physical appearance and frowned. “I don’t think I’ve let myself go.”

“It’s not physically, I think. I love you Baek, truly. I don’t want to ever leave you.”

“Good, because you were totally worrying me there for a moment that you were going to suggest something I don’t want.”

You smiled weakly. “Never. I don’t think I could leave you. But I have to admit, I’m not satisfied either. We just live together.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You gave him a long look, and Baekhyun turned sheepish. “You’re going to need to spell it out, honey. I’m not quite on the same page as you.”

“We walk in on each other on the toilet,” you started, and Baekhyun frowned.

“There’s only one bathroom in our apartment. And I’ve seen, heard, and smelt it all. So have you. It’s convenient to do that, don’t you think?”

“Okay, so maybe that’s not too bad, but there’s no dates, no flowers, no romantic enticements. We’ve assimilated into a comfortable couple who does everything together and doesn’t work hard to surprise the other so much anymore.”

Baekhyun nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you in lingerie too. You hardly match your panties and bras these days too.”

“I thought you didn’t care?” you admitted sincerely, and Baekhyun chuckled.

“What man isn’t enticed by a matching set of lingerie? It makes me want to rip you out of them each time.”

You smiled longingly. “It’s been a while since passion has taken us over like that, don’t you agree?”

“Now that I think about it, maybe we have let ourselves go. Not physically, but if you’re not stimulated, and I’m able to see loopholes, it could be that we need to put in more effort.”

“I would love that. Could we try? And maybe it is a pet peeve of mine to share the bathroom. You always comment so honestly, and I guess it makes me insecure.”

Baekhyun’s mouth rounded before he nodded. “I could stop that. And if you could stop saying, I’m too tired for that whenever I mentioned about Netflix and Chill, we might get more than complacency.”

“We’re you trying to pull a move on me with the TV?” you asked, realisation dawning on you. “Okay, that sounds good to me.”

“Is there anything else we need to address?” Baekhyun asked, and you smiled, leaning over to kiss him.

He deepened it immediately, a moan leaving you in the process. You moved into his lap, which you could tell was enough to work your husband up further. “Well, I do have a few things that we could decide on, but right now…”

“I think it’s about time we catch up with one another intimately, don’t you?” Baekhyun suggested as his tongue swished out and licked your neck, causing your hips to grind down into his lap. He groaned, picking you up immediately. “And this time, no one is laying down and going to sleep before the other.”

“I’m definitely wide awake, all over,” you confessed, falling into another heated kiss as you both clumsily made your way to the bedroom.

_________________

Part 3

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[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 8

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

Lucky for you, Darcy was in the communal kitchen when you went down for lunch later that day.  You had asked if she wanted to get out of the tower and do some shopping and she happily agreed.  

Sending off a quick message to Steve and Bucky, the two of you headed out.  It was decided that walking would be best instead of driving. The fresh air would be nice.  

Naturally you found out Darcy was a little nosey, but you couldn’t help but laugh when she asked what medications you took after picking them up.  “Just vitamins really,” you lied with a smile.  

The two of you went to a few shops and you picked up a cute black leather cross body purse with little spike details on them along with a new pair of sunglasses.  After that, you two headed to lunch.  

“I have to ask,” Darcy began to say after the waiter left with your food orders, “just how big are they?” You assumed she was talking about Steve and Bucky, but you were confused at her question and you cocked your head to the side.  “You know,” she said, using her hands as reference.  

“Darcy, what are you talking about?” you giggled out your response.  

“They give off big dick energy if you know what I mean,” she spoke so casually.  

Your eyes widened when you finally realized what she was talking about.  “Darcy!” you whisper screamed.  

“What?  A girl can be curious can’t she?”

You shook your head at her words, trying not to break out in hysterics.  “I wouldn’t know.  I’ve only known them for a few weeks and I just moved in a few days ago.”

“Well, I’m here for you when you are ready to discuss that.”

~~~

As you got back to the apartment, Steve was sitting on the couch watching the news.  He turned his head to face you when he saw you walking out of the elevator.  

“Did you have a fun time with Darcy?”

A smile crept onto your lips at remembering your conversation with Darcy earlier at lunch.

“Mmhmm.  It was nice to get outside and to stretch my legs a bit.”

Dropping your purse onto the kitchen counter with your medication discreetly tucked safe inside, you sat down next to him on the couch.  Steve wrapped his right arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him.  He smelt so good, like cinnamon and pine trees.  

“I’m glad you had fun. Bucky will be here soon and he’s going to cook dinner for us tonight.”

You weren’t overly hungry after having just ate lunch a few hours ago, but you were excited to have a nice quiet evening, just the three of you.  

“Did you get off early today?” you asked with curiosity.  

“Yeah.  We’ve got to leave tomorrow for a mission so Fury gave us the rest of the day off.  Bucky’s down working out right now.”

As he spoke, you couldn’t help but stare at his mouth.  His top lip was nearly covered by the mustache of his beard while his lower plump lip looked delicious enough to nibble on.  Without even thinking, you ran your hands through his beard.  

“Are you ever going to shave this off?”

He chuckled at your words. “I might.  Why?  Do you not like it?” he asked as he turned to face you.

“No, I do.  I actually really like it.  I was just wondering what it would be like to kiss you without your beard.”

His lips parted at your words as his eyes glanced down to your lips.  The two of you stayed that way for the briefest of moments before you practically pounced on him.  Throwing your leg over his hips, you straddled him as your lips connected once again.  Steve’s lips against yours felt like heaven.  Pure euphoria.  The man knew how to kiss.  

Your hands gripped the back of his hair, pushing him closer to you.  Steve’s hands were at your waist at first, but slowly moved back to your ass, squeezing roughly.  You gasped into his mouth and you knew that was his intended purpose.  His tongue conquered your mouth, causing you to moan. And that little moan of yours sent off a chain reaction.  Steve’s hips bucked upwards and you felt him growing hard beneath you.  Your hips ground down onto him, grinding back and forth over his length.  

“Steve,” his name a mere whisper as his lips travelled down your throat and to your collarbone.  He nipped it with his teeth before leaving a scorching path of hot breath and wet saliva up to your throat and then he hit your sweet spot.  Right at your pulse point, he latched on with his mouth, sucking furiously and you damn well knew there was going to be a hickey the size of a fucking dinner plate.

Your nails scratched his scalp and you heard the most delicious moan come from his lips.  You never wanted it to end.  You wanted this to keep going.  As your hips kept grinding back and forth, you felt an orgasm approaching. Steve sucked harder as his hips continued to thrust upwards, his hard cock straining in his jeans against your soft black leggings.  

“I’m….I’m gonna….” But before you could finish your sentence, the elevator pinged.  You and Steve immediately stilled all movement; the brink of your orgasm fading quickly away as Bucky cleared his throat.  

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked with a devilish grin, looking between you and Steve.

“Great timing Buck,” Steve growled out.  

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh as he headed into the kitchen and started taking out the ingredients for dinner.  

“Sorry sweetheart,” Steve said before giving you a chaste kiss on the lips.  He helped you off of him and before you could say anything, he got off the couch and walked towards the hallway as he adjusted himself in his pants.

~~~

“So, what are you making for dinner?” you asked Bucky as you hopped up on the kitchen counter and watched him work.   Steve had to go talk to Fury at the last minute about the upcoming mission so you decided to keep Bucky company in the kitchen.

“Ma’s famous spaghetti and meatballs,” he replied as he started molding the two pounds of meat into meatballs.  

Not wanting to get your hair in any of the food, you took the hair tie from around your wrist and piled your hair into a messy bun at the top of your head.  As you watched his hands work effortlessly, you didn’t notice Bucky staring at your neck.  

“He got you good didn’t he?” he stated with a grin, nodding his head to your neck.  

“Are you jealous Bucky?” you teased him back, nudging his arm with your elbow.  

He shook his head, a soft snicker coming from his mouth as he rinsed his hands off with soap and water before moving the meatballs into the pan.  

You had come to realize that you loved watching him in the kitchen.  He moved about so easily, almost as if he was dancing.  He really knew what he was doing.  

Before you knew it, he was standing in between your legs; his arms on either side of your thighs, caging you in.  His blue eyes zeroed in on the hickey Steve gave you, inspecting it closely.  

“I’m not jealous doll. Stevie and I are on the same playing field.  You are ours. Both of ours and we know how to share.” His face now in front of yours, noses nearly touching as you inhaled his scent.  Like Steve, he had a woodsy smell to him, but instead of cinnamon, he smelt of mint.  Mint and woods.  

His blue eyes locked with yours and your breathing became ragged.  Bucky moved closer, but instead of his lips meeting yours, he turned his head at the last minute and his mouth latched onto your neck.  Tilting your head back, you let out a breathy moan. You knew what he was doing; cheeky bastard.  He was giving you a hickey on the opposite side of your neck from where Steve left his mark.  

Your legs came up to wrap around him, pushing his hips closer to yours and you immediately felt the bulge forming in his pants.  “Oh Bucky,” you mewled as he hit a particularly sensitive part of your neck, sucking vigorously.  The familiar twinge of an oncoming orgasm was starting to build and you were more worked up than ever, especially since you never full got off when you were hot and heavy with Steve earlier.  

As Bucky’s lips remained attached to your neck, you felt his metal arm drop to your thigh.  His fingers began trailing up and down your inner thigh; small gasps and moans continue to flood out of your mouth.  As his fingers trailed closer to where you wanted him to touch you, you felt like you were going to burst.  You knew with just one soft touch of his metal fingers you would be sent over the edge.  

But it didn’t happen. Just as his fingers were mere millimeters away, Steve cleared his throat.  Bucky let go of your skin with a pop; his lips red and swollen from his ministrations.  “Sorry doll. Stevie has bad timing,” he said before giving your lips a quick kiss.  

He went back to cooking as Steve tried to hide his smile the best he could.  

“UGH!” you screeched as you hopped off the counter and began to march towards your room.  “You are BOTH cock blockers!”  

~~~

The following morning you were saying goodbye to Steve and Bucky.  They had both apologized for the previous night and you were still peeved. Not about the hickeys.  No.  You loved that they had each marked you.  You were pissed about nearly orgasming with both of them and then each of them cock blocking you.  Assholes. You were so wound up, it took everything in you to not get yourself off that night, but one of your rules was not to touch yourself.  So instead, you stood under a cold shower for you don’t even know how long.  

Steve gave you a kiss on your forehead.  “Now be good. The rules especially apply while we are gone.”

You nodded your head in understand.  Bucky gave you a kiss on the cheek.  “Please be a good girl for us and stay out of trouble.”

Shaking your head, you let out a laugh.  “How can I get into trouble when your taking all the trouble with  you.”

“Very funny,” Steve said as he hit the button to the elevator.  You watched as both men climbed inside.  

As the doors began to close, you spoke, “Please be careful.”

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar Of 24 Normal Human Task As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 8: It Is The Most Important Meal Of The Day 

Warnings: Bad Language Words 

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

A/N: HELLO! Welcome back for another day of Ransom Drysdale mishaps! Is he hopeless? Well between myself, @what-is-your-plan-today​ and @jennmurawski13​ he seems to be, but I think some day he will get the hang of it. Maybe. Happy Reading! 

Series Masterlist

“Why don't we just go out to the Beehive for breakfast?” Ransom questioned with a hand on his hips while you searched the refrigerator to pull out eggs, veggies and ham. You close the door with your hip and walk around your husband with a tired sigh, setting it all out on the counter. 

“Because I can just cook for us Ransom. We’ve been out every day this week, and to the Beehive Diner twice for breakfast, I just want to stay home.” You open the cupboards and search for a bowl to whisk your eggs in, and glance at Ransom who seems stuck between agreeing and making an argument that it would be easier to just go. “Besides, I'm making it, you don't have to cook Ransom. If you want to go so bad, go. But I’m staying home.” 

His mouth snapped shut and a dark eyebrow arched at you while listening. You sounded tired and even though he thought it was easier to let someone else cook and bring the food to you, you seemed set on just staying home. In your oversized tee shirt that was starting to stretch a bit more over your belly and leggings. “Well I can cook if you want me to.” Ransom finally spoke up, in which You pause, and turn to face him, your hand resting on your belly. “I mean, you do it most of the time, and you are not feeling like going out. Let me.” He stepped forward, catching you by surprise, and wrapped his arms around your waist. “It's about time I learn right? When we have this kid running around, we will be staying home more.” 

His logic was sound, and you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and looked up at him, really touched at the effort he was making with all of this. Your fingers tangled at the trimmed hair along the back of his head, and nodded. “Are you sure you know what to do with all this Ransom?”

He rolled his eyes at you with an exaggerated huff escaping, even though you looked doubtful. “Y/N how many times do I have to tell you I’m not a complete invalid. I had a nanny who I watched cook omelets all the time. Whisk some eggs, add that extra crap, fold it over. Done.” 

They were eggs, if he can't cook eggs then Ransom really would be hopeless you thought to yourself. “Okay, I am going to go take a shower then since you are offering.” You tilted to your tip toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “If you need anything, get me. I swear Ransom, let's not do another roast pork in the crockpot incident.” 

“Are you ever going to let that go Princess?” he huffed against your lips, and you fell back to the flat of your feet. 

“Maybe next year, you did almost poison your parents after all Ransom.” Your hand slid against his chest as you pulled away with a grin. 

Ransom smirked hearing you, wiggling eyebrows as you headed for the stairs. “Maybe that was actually what I was trying to do Princess.” You shook your head at him and went up slowly. Once you left, Ransom almost considered just calling for a delivery from the diner down the road. They made those omelets you so loved, which is what you seemed to be making by looking at the mix of ingredients on the counter. But you really seemed set against eating out, and that would include takeout. 

“Fuck its just eggs, damn it. Your better then letting a couple fucking eggs beat you.” He approached the bowl and started to crack eggs into the bowl. Unsure of how many to do, because he had never actually cooked an omelet before, he just did the whole carton. Grabbing a small knife he had seen you use before, he started to dice the veggies, shred some of the ham and set it all aside. “Well it isn’t no Gordon Ramsey, but not’ bad.” He said out loud to himself while inspecting his handy work of wildly sized vegetables. 

Now was time for the real challenge. The actual cooking of these eggs. 

It took him a few minutes to get a pan that looked like it was made to cook on the stove, which he cranked on the heat and set the skillet down. While it was heating, he waited thinking that the skillet had to be sizzling before putting the eggs in. Once he saw a small curl of smoke roll out of the pan, he took the massive bowl of eggs he had diligently cracked, and tipped them into the pan. 

The sizzle was immediate, egg whites started popping out of the pan from where he didn’t whisk them together enough, the smoke billowed up to fill the room and soon the eggs were boiling over the too small skillet to dry on the electric stove top, and catch on fire. 

This all happened in moments. Faster than Ransom was expecting, he watched with a colorful string of curses escaping him as the orange flames crackled amid the black smoke. 

“Oh you motherfucker!” He turned off the stove and searched for anything to grab the pan with. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, son of a bitch.” Ransom is ripping open drawers, and pawing through the cupboard at the bottom of the sink till he finds a hand towel, which he wraps around his hand. Grabbing the handle of the skillet, he shoots for the sink and dumps it all in, turning on the water. Somewhere a fire alarm is blaring and he can hear your footsteps thumping above him to go down the stairs, which he darts out of the kitchen, coughing while using the hand towel to shoo away the burnt smoke clinging to him. “Stop right there Y/N!” 

You pause mid step, clutching a towel around yourself, soap still streaked along your shoulders and neck. “Ransom are you okay? Do I need to call the fire department?” 

Coughing he waved his hand to have you go back upstairs. “No, it's fine, I got it. You go back to your shower.” 

“I think I should really help you…” You started down the stairs, but Ransom went up a few steps to block you and turn you around. 

“No, go back upstairs. Your dripping soap all over the rug.” 

You try to peek over the railing into the kitchen, but he turns you around and has you start back up the stairs. “Ransom the kitchen is filled with smoke.” You try to stall but he gives you another nudge. 

“It's nothing, I got this. Go finish.” 

After you finally relented, sputtering all the way back up “I shouldn’t have let him in my kitchen, fuck I hope we can get someone in here to fix it. Maybe Linda knows someone” 

Ransom scoffed with a “I heard that, we wouldn't use my mother… BUT THE KITCHEN IS FINE” He raised his voice while you slammed the bathroom door shut. Ransom waited a few seconds to be sure you wouldn’t try coming back down just yet. Then went back down into the kitchen, prying open some windows and went to look at the mess in the sink. 

“Fucking hell, I should have just ordered in. Why the fuck didn’t I just order it in?” He heard the shower start back up, and went to the pantry instead, avoiding the stove now. Pushing stuff around while in the pantry, muttering to himself, determined not to make that phone call. 

You came back down about fifteen minutes later, cautious as you stepped into the kitchen. The smell of burnt eggs clung to the air, and you started to breath subtly through your mouth, so your stomach did not turn. Ransom sat at the table and you moved over to him, slipping into his lap to see what he had set the table with. Spread out was some of your cups of yogurt, a cut up banana and bundle of grapes, along with your granola cereal. 

Ransom's arm circled around your waist, and you reached for a grape, turning enough to offer it to him. “It looks really good Handsome.” You pressed the grape to his lips, and he let it slide in, chewing slowly. 

“I can still order in. Twenty minutes for a hot breakfast.” He started and you shook your head, leaning forward to grab one of the yogurt cups to peel off the top as well as the granola to sprinkle in. 

“Ransom, this is exactly what your spawn wants right now. Fresh fruit and yogurt. The thought of eggs is a no right now. Might be for a while…” 

Ransoms head tilted back while he groaned, knowing it was because he had burned the fucking eggs. Seeing him, you laughed while mixing it up and offered him a bite. 

“I am not hungry anymore.” He glared at the spoon of yogurt and you shrugged, taking it for yourself. “I think that stove is broken.” 

“I think you just need some actual lessons. Which we're going to do tonight.” 

That earned you another groan from Ransom while he pressed his lips to your shoulder. “Fuck it, you should have just let me order in.” he groaned against your skin while you took another bite of yogurt and granola.

[oh-so-scenarios]

ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅiᴘiᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜiɴɢs...♠| 14

⤖ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇs? Jᴜɴɢ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ…ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

⤖ Mᴀғɪᴀ Lᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ x ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ᴀᴜ

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, vulgar language

****Theere are some errors. Please ignore! (Word Count: 8.6K)

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Y/N:

The warmth I’m feeling isn’t coming from the hot shower I just stepped out of. It was a warm feeling in my chest, along with the nervous patter of my heart. So I’m spending the night here? The rain doesn’t show any signs of stopping, and the cracking of thunder is enough to keep anyone inside.

Hoseok gave me a long sweatshirt of his along with some basketball shorts. I used the towel he provided to dry myself off and slip on the clothes he gave me. As I’m staring at myself in the partially fogged up mirror, I get a flashback to what happened in the car. 

My skin still tickled with his soft but wanting touches. I’m also shocked at my actions. I really dug my hand into his pants with no shame. I stroked his dick, and begged for him to fuck me in the back of his car. 

I shook my head, as if to shake off the embarrassment of the past events. As I removed myself from my thoughts, I recognized the sound of another running shower. Hoseok must be using his other bathroom to take a shower. I hung up the towel and grabbed my rain soaked clothes.

I stepped out of the bathroom, my hot skin being met by the cold air that circulated the hallway was refreshing, and caused me to sigh in bliss. 

I shyly looked side to side, staring at the hallway that led to more rooms, and the way that led to the living room. I took small and hesitant steps towards the other doors down the hallway, not sure what I was looking for. 

I came to a door that I thought was a closet and opened it, surprised to see a washer and dryer stacked on top of each other in the cramped space. They were clearly the newest model, and still had that new appliance gloss. The dryer already had something in it, making my stand on my tiptoes to glance in through the clear circular door. I recognized the shirt, and came to the conclusion that it was the clothes Hoseok wore on the date. 

He must have thrown them in here while I was in the shower. I opened the dryer and tossed my clothes in, my eyes reading all the dials before setting them and pressing start. 

The dryer hummed quietly while the clothes tumbled and turned inside. It was only a light vibration as well. Very different from my dryer, which was loud and echoed throughout my place. 

Hoseok is clearly a man of luxury, even with the most simple things. I closed the door and walked down the hallway to the balcony-like area. I slowly made my way down the stairs and to the living room, finding time to gawk around at the decor. It’s simple like Hoseok, yet luxurious. It’s nothing overbearing either. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem like the type to flaunt his wealth in excess. No big mansion with a bunch of unused rooms, but rather a comfortable and roomy condo. I stared into the darkness that was outside, and the other buildings in the distance. 

Seeing as the whole left wall was glass, it made the room feel a bit larger. Small threads of light from other buildings giving me a sliver of the raindrops floating down towards the ground. I watched lightning whip through the sky, the thunder that followed being a loud rumble. 

Speaking of rumble, my stomach makes a grunt sound, reminding me that we weren’t able to get dinner. With my hand pressed to my stomach, I shyly turned towards the dark walk way, strolling up the two small steps and cautiously venturing into the space.

My hands move along the wall hoping to find a light switch. My feet shuffled carefully, and I inched around, trying to keep from crashing into something.

My fingers run across something circular and hit it. Lights come shining on and I wince at the brightness, turning the circular dial to dim it. I look around to see a medium sized rectangular table with a few chairs. It seems to be a dining table, but with different sheets of paper scattered all about. There were opened binders and files carelessly thrown down. 

You’d think Hoseok would have left them in a hurry, so he didn’t have time to clean it up. 

I looked to my left to see some of the kitchen. It was barely visible, but the dining room lights gave me enough to see the switch for the kitchen. I switched the lights on and strolled in, my feet making a slapping noise on the cool tile floor. 

The kitchen matched the penthouse perfectly. All the appliances were a shining silver while the medium sized island, cabinets and all the countertops were a smooth black wood. The tile floor was an imitation of white oak wood that kept the place from seeming too dark. It was spacious and unlike the dining room, very clean. 

Everything has its place and would make anyone uncomfortable to move it. The coffee machine next to the mug rack that was next to the blender, before the gas stove interrupted the smooth countertop. 

On the other side of the stove was a rice cooker and a toaster. All the appliances showed signs of being used, but were cleaned wonderfully. 

I turned my eyes to the large two wide door fridge that had a drawer at the bottom as the freezer. I approach the fridge, staring at it. I glanced around me, as if I was doing something bad. 

Is it okay for me to open his fridge? Should I wait for him to come back before I ask if I can cook something? I reached a hand out to rest on the handle before opening one of the doors.

Hoseok’s fridge was stocked beautifully. All the water bottles lined up like the aesthetic posts I would see on Tumblr. The condiments were organized and all the foods were set in certain places. Now I really feel bad to go in there and mess it up. 

I open the other door and scan all the foods and items, deciding on some beef japchae. I started to take out the ingredients, taking the cuts of beef that were wrapped in one of the fridge compartments. I moved to the cabinets, getting more comfortable as I pulled out the needed items. 

I found all the seasonings and bowls I would need while I hummed a song I heard on the radio. 

I jump slightly when I heard a door closing, followed by footsteps coming down the stairs in a bit of a rush. I keep my eyes on the entrance way that connected the dining room with the living room. It wasn’t long before Hoseok’s figure rushes through, his cell phone pressed to his ear. 

“No, no! Move it to next week! I will not let them threaten me in such a way.” He hissed into the phone, striding to the papers spread out on the dining table. He throws a glance my way, and I notice his eyes move about the kitchen. He saw all the things I took out and looked back at me in question. 

I couldn’t answer, as the person on the phone had grabbed his attention once again. He wore a simple Tee with a colorful graphic on it, along with some black basketball shorts. I giggled at the butterflies building in my stomach. I’ve never seen Hoseok in comfortable clothes like he is now. 

I took a deep breath as my eyes stayed on him. He was looking through the different sheets of paper on the table. He was muttering something, whether to himself or the person on the phone; I can’t be sure. 

His brows furrowed as he stared down, listening to whatever was being said to him. I leaned against the counter, my arm pushing some of the items I laid out. His hair was still damp, and disheveled. Probably the results of a towel being roughly rubbed over it. 

“They aren’t going to get a better offer. I am not going to use my time off to try to prove myself for some petty investment. I won’t call them, I won’t even send out an email.” He barked, rolling his eyes. 

Whoever he was speaking to, was slowly pulling him into a bad mood. My mouth scrunched up bitterly, hoping that work wouldn’t take up all his time tonight. I turned my focus back to the food, taking out the meat preparing it. 

I was zipping around the kitchen, Hoseok’s business banter fading into the background. I put the pot on the stove and got it nice and hot for the beef. Hoseok still stood at the table, making me wonder why he didn’t take a seat. 

He probably was hoping to not waste this night with work as well. His reluctance to sit down showed his effort of finishing the call quickly. 

I glanced towards the rice cooker, now that I wanted to pair sides of rice with the glass noodle dish. I looked in his, his eyes trained down on the table while he focused intently. I took small steps in his direction, my movement catching his attention right away. 

As I got closer, he put a hand on my lower back, turning his phone away from his mouth to look at me. I leaned in a bit, the fresh smell of his soap tingling my senses.

“Can I use the rice cooker?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice down so as to not let my presence be known to those on the phone. 

He smiled and rubbed my lower back in a very loving manner, “Yeah go ahead princess.” Unlike me, he didn’t whisper but spoke loudly, the tiny chatter I could barely hear from his phone had gone quiet. I went back to the kitchen and began with the rice and rice cooker.

“I was talking to my girlfriend.” Hoseok said as a matter of fact. He pauses and scoffs, turning his back to me while his tone grew sharp. 

“Mr. Robins, I told you it was my time off. Don’t act surprised now! You’ve already cut into an important night so might as well finish this.”

When Hoseok speaks again it’s been a few minutes. I’m cooking the beef in the pan, the cackling and sizzling of it in the pan drowning out his words.

“Tell them I said that such petty threats do nothing for me. Let them know that my offer has an expiration date.” He pauses, glancing at me.

“Also Mr. Robins, don’t call outside of work hours anymore. I allowed it in the past, but let’s not make it a habit anymore. So tonight is the last time. But yes, talk to you soon.” 

I turn my focus back to the meat, cooking it evenly before moving it to a plate. I start to put the noodles in the pot with boiling water and move to cut the vegetables I set out.

“Let me help.” Hoseok says from beside me. I jump, surprised to see him so close. His phone was no longer with him and set on the dining table. He looked down at me with a kind smile, his dimples on display as he did so.

“Okay,” I giggle, “Can you cut the vegetables for me?” He nods, and moves to the sink to watch his hands. 

“You made yourself comfortable,” He chuckles, looking over his shoulder at me. 

My cheeks warm up, “See, I knew you were going to say that. I was going to wait to ask if I could use your kitchen but I got hungry.”

We work in a comfortable silence, the sound of water boiling and the clunk of the knife hitting the cutting board. I drained the noodles and checked on the rice in the rice cooker. 

We work efficiently and Hoseok turns to randomly smile at me every few minutes. I giggled each time, asking him if something was wrong. He’d only smile and shake his head no. The noodles were just about done, and I was lightly stir-frying them with the beef and the vegetables. Hoseok was washing the dishes. 

This moment felt very domestic and I loved it. It wasn’t long before I was plating both meals and bringing them to the dining table. I gently moved some of the papers to the side, shuffling others together into stacks. Hoseok swiftly washed the rest of the dishes while I set the table. 

His quick movements revealed just how hungry he was. I can’t be surprised. I’m sure his lunch was earlier in the day, and the rain killed our plans. He saw me shivering and thought it’d be better to cancel the dinner reservation he had for after the movie.

We eat in silence for a bit, our stomachs were crying out for some food. The pleased exhale as he eats has me thanking my mom in my heart. 

The times she’d make me stay with her in the kitchen has come in handy. That’s how she’d try to bond with me, since work kept her away a lot. I naturally picked up on her recipes and at the young age of 12, I could cook dinner for the whole family. 

That’s how the dream of becoming a chef manifested itself. My parents supported it, believing that’s what I was really going to pursue. But it was a phase I held onto for a year. 

“It’s good?” I asked, taking my chopsticks and grabbing my side of rice. I put some rice in my mouth, watching Hoseok for an answer. He chewed and swallowed the noodles before grinning at me.

“You know it’s good.” He answered in a teasing manner, “I might have you over here every night.” He looks down at his food, missing the way my eyes widen at his words.

Have me over here every night? He was too focused on his food to notice my still figure. By the time I snapped out of it, a pregnant quiet fell over us. 

Once again it was a comfortable quiet. We were simply enjoying each other’s company. We’d talk every once in a while, Hoseok finding something to say that would cause me to laugh. Was he always this funny? 

I narrowed my eyes at him, realizing that he was speaking his thoughts more. I enjoyed it, gladly listening to whatever he’d have to say. 

“What time do you need to wake up tomorrow?” His question was coming out of left field, seeing as he was previously talking about how much he enjoyed the seasoning on the beef. 

“I’ll need to get home then get ready, so probably 8 am. They have me coming in later, since I’m only doing paperwork.” A slight pout on my lips as I spoke. Ugh, paperwork. It’s what I dislike the most about my job but I’ll be confined in my office doing just that. 

“Okay, I’ll drive you home, then to work.” He informs me, taking some more noodles in his mouth. 

I could only nod in response, and we returned to silence. We never really said that I’d be staying the night, but a wordless understanding was met. As I finished my food, I noticed Hoseok glancing at his phone, checking the time. I drummed my fingers lightly on the table, curious if he had something he had to attend to. 

I waited till he was done with his food, looking up to meet my blank expression. 

“What’s up?” He says simply, putting his chopsticks into the bigger glass bowl. 

I lean forward, setting an elbow on the table, “Do you have something to do? You keep looking at your phone.”

He blinks at me, trying to figure out how to respond. The guilty look on his face told me everything I needed to know. 

“I just have some contracts I need to write up. I didn’t want to ignore you while yo--”

I cut him off, vigorously shaking my head. 

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I know you’re a busy man, and you weren’t expecting me to be staying here so you don’t have to entertain me. I’ll watch TV or something.” 

He raises an eyebrow at me, his hair now dry and ruffled out like it was just brushed. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” I confirm, reaching my hand out to smooth out his hair. 

~!~ 

I only watched TV for an hour before I was growing bored. I grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. I passed various shows, seeing the scenes flash on the large flat screen for no more than a second. I groaned into defeat, deciding that I’d just review some medical notes from my email. 

I noticed my purse carelessly thrown on the loveseat adjacent to me. I stood up, grabbing the pursue and situating myself in that same loveseat. 

I figured that since Hoseok was somewhere in the condo working, I couldn’t disturb him much from the living room. I glanced around me, looking at the spiral stairs that led to the second level. 

Using bluetooth, I connected my phone to the Bose soundbar that the TV was using as an output. Music always helps me study and review. Whether it was patient files or some techniques that I had to brush up on. 

My phone showed that it was 11:47pm. After a long day of work, I would have been knocked out on my bed, knowing that another tiring day was waiting for me in the morning. I took note that my phone was at 56%. I’d had to go bother Hoseok for a charger soon.

I hit shuffle on my studying playlist, and opened up my emails to review patient notes. I won’t be working those cases till next week but it was good to show up prepared. I keep the volume low, leaving it just loud enough to fill the living room. If it’s too loud, Hoseok will let me know. 

I’m looking over files and notes on a burn victim, along with the progress on Mrs. Choi. Her physical therapy is going well. It’s moving slowly but they believe she will walk again, however it seems her motivation is dwindling. 

Her husband shows no signs of progress. He is still in a coma that leaves doctors to truly unable understand the length of the damage he has from the car accident. 

The notes were a lot. Long detailed files and charts for patients. I’ll be the one typing all these up when I head back to work. As the song changes to something with a faster tempo, I start bobbing my head to the beat. Soon my shoulders join in, having my body do a stiff and closed off jig in my seat. 

My attention was on the notes, so I wasn’t putting much effort into my rhythmic movements. I’m sitting there reading for some time, and when I check the time again it’s 12:54am. 

I take a break, locking my phone and dropping it in the loveseat as I stand up. My playlist is still on, a funky R&B song coming on just as I’m walking towards the dining room. I was going to head into the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

I stop my steps, letting my hips sway to the beat in the middle of the living room. I close my eyes, mouthing the words and slowing my movements to the breakdown of the song. I let the song get to the chorus before I stroll to the dining room.

I walk to the beat, switching on the dining room lights. I could faintly hear the song, singing the song under my breath now. I don’t bother turning on the kitchen lights. I grab a water bottle like this as if my own home and dash back to the living room.

I barely turn off the dining room lights as my feet shuffle along the floor. I’m back in the center of the living room, opening the bottle to take a sip of water before setting it on the center table. The space between the center table and the couches was enough for me to dance. 

I just felt like dancing, forgetting that I wasn’t in my own apartment. However, Hoseok’s presence somewhere else in this place brought a sense of safety and comfort. The notes were all forgotten about as another song came on,having me rock to the beat. 

I’m circling my hips in a provocative manner, bending my knees and holding one arm up as I do so. I stick my tongue out a bit, feeling myself. My confidence is growing since I’m by myself. Or so I thought. 

I keep dancing, closing my eyes as if it could help me hit the high notes the singer was reaching. The slow winding of my hips momentarily stutter to a stop when two hands enclose either side of them. 

I jump, the touch startling me. I felt Hoseok’s chest against my back and his breath on the back of my neck. I let out a shaky breath as his crotch lightly brushed my butt. I hear his shallow breaths close to my ear. His hands are big, his hands are hot and grip me just right. 

Trying to shake off the hot and heavy atmosphere falling over us, I kept dancing as I was, humming the song as if nothing had changed. My butt brushing his crotch every movement. 

“Are you done with your contracts? That didn’t take too long.” I said over my shoulder. 

“I worked quickly cause I could hear you having your own little party out here.” His voice was playful. He placed a kiss on the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to rise all over my body. 

We establish a steady rhythm, his hips moving with mine. It wasn’t crazy sexual, but I was impressed by how fluidly his hips moved, along with the bit of distance he kept between my rear end and his crotch, like he was worried I wouldn’t like him pressed on me.

“I was reading some notes, but the music distracted me.” I answered, as a slower track came on. Our bodies swayed in a sluggish fashion. I lean my body back into him, my whole body pressed into him. I leaned my head back, and closed my eyes.

“I can relate.” He says softly.

“Oh yeah,” I mention, “You said you wanted to be a dancer?” His hands on my hips are replaced by his arms enclosing my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his cheek against my cheek.

He giggles at the uncertainty in my voice, “Is it still hard to believe?” 

“A little bit.” I reply, “What type of dancing did you do?” 

Hoseok inhales and exhales slowly, looking forward like he could see the memorie playing before him.

“I’d dance whatever I could learn,” He says vaguely, “I was just happy to be dancing.” 

“You can still dance...with me. I’ll always be your dancing partner.” 

“Thank you for the offer Y/n...I’ll gladly think about it.”

“I mean I’m no professional, but I can stay on beat, and I like to have fun so you’ll never be bored.” 

He opens his mouth and closes it again, deciding not to speak. 

“But before you can even ponder on my offer, you have to show me your dancing skills! I need to see what you got!” I challenge, and his arms pull me in tighter to him. I could feel the steady hits of his heartbeat against my back.

The song faded to quiet, before another track began. It picked up a bit more than the last track, fun and quick tango beat to it.

Hoseok let me out of his arms, spinning me around to face him. I was astounded by the speed in which he spun me around. He clasped one hand of mine in his. He moved my other hand to rest on the bicep of his arm that had it’s hand placed on my waist. 

He straightened his posture, tilting his chin up a bit while he gazed down at me. 

“Just follow after me okay?” He said quietly, as if we were dancing in secret. 

I tried. I tried to keep up. The first few steps were rough. He was clearly moving a bit slower for me, waiting as I caught onto the basic steps, before he picked up the pace. It was easy to dance with Hoseok after that. 

He was truly leading me, surprising me with some quick spins and other flares of flavor. 

I giggled as he spun me, bringing me close to his body. My chest was falling and rising as I tried to catch my breath, staring back into Hoseok’s eyes. 

It was only a second as he began to move his feet again, having me follow along with the rhythmic steps. 

Now my arm was wrapped around his shoulder and neck, while my other hand was clasped in his. I yelped in surprise as he dipped me. So low I was worried he’d drop me. As he brings me back up, I let go of his hand and wrap my other arm around his neck.

He brings his face close to mine as we stand there, catching our breath. I, breathing a lot more heavy than him.

Hoseok shows a soft smile, wrapping both his arms around my waist. 

“Wow,” I say in-between small gasps for air, “You really can dance.” 

Hoseok chuckles at my dazed expression, leaning forward to kiss my lips. A peck so quick, by the time my eyes are fluttering closed, he is pulling away. 

“Do you want to get back to your patient notes?” He licks his lips, his eyes flickering down to my lips.

I shake my head, “I want you to kiss me again.” 

He hums in response, leaning in close to kiss me again. A short peck, followed by a lingering kiss. His arms around me tightened and melted into him. Our heads tilted as we deepened the kiss. My heart hammering in my ears, and my stomach twisting into nervous knots. 

His lips are soft, warm and welcoming. Everytime we kiss, it feels like I’m trying to get a message of my feelings to him. Hoseok, however, kisses me slowly and in a cherishing manner. Like it’ll be the last time he kisses me, like he needs me to breathe. 

Each and every time, I’m left weak in the knees. My heart is squeezing with delight. He doesn’t always say how he feels. A lot of time he’ll say it randomly or in passing, as if he didn’t want a whole moment around it. 

But the execution of his actions make me feel warm inside. 

The small touches, his hand on my back, the way he’ll pause a work call to listen to whatever I have to say. Picturing him as the same cold gentlemen I met nearly 4 months ago, makes my heart grow in size.

But that also makes me wonder, should I be the first to tell him I love him? Hoseok is so casual about things, whether it’s due to his discomfort or he doesn’t see the significance, that he might not say such words right out. 

The way he calls me his girlfriend now, although he didn’t ask me to be his girlfriend, shows he doesn’t see a need for all the formalities.

He sighs as he draws his lips away from mine, kissing my cheek, my jaw and then a small kiss on my neck. He hides his face in my neck, my arms tighten around him so we were hugging.

I bring a hand up to rest on his hair, “Thank you for such a fun date.” 

“You don’t have to lie Y/n, I know it was sucky.” He says, his lips brushing against my skin.

“It wasn’t at all. I had fun, I always have fun with you.”

“I’m not exactly the life of the party Y/n.” 

“You’re a lot more fun than you think. You’re also a lot kinder than you realise. I know you were probably exhausted, but you still went to the movies with me.”

“And you cooked for me,” He smiles. I know cause I can feel it against my neck and collar bone. I thought he was going to say something else, his statement felt incomplete so we stood in silence as I waited for him to speak again.

When he didn’t I listened to his soft breathing. 

“You’re clearly tired, so let’s get you to bed okay?” I said. He drew back from me, staring at me with jaded eyes, and I could only giggle at the tired pout on his lips. He was totally starting to fall asleep in my arms.

I pinched his cheek and pecked him on the lips before stepping out of his arms and walking over to my phone left forgotten in the love seat. I disconnected it from the soundbar from my phone, and switched it off. 

Hoseok goes to turn off most of the lights, leaving the small doorway light on. I followed him up the stairs, my strides slowing down as we got to the hallway. 

He stopped walking, leaving me just a view of his back. He looked to the door on his left, before turning to me. 

“So here’s the guest room.” He said gesturing to the room. 

I awkwardly nodded, rubbing my hands together and walking closer to him, opening the door to see a plain but nice bedroom.

A larger twin size bed with a desk closet and a TV. 

I stare at the room, knowing that Hoseok was also watching my reaction.

He’s being considerate. He doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable by assuming I’d want to share a room with him, but damn I’d like if he’d at least ask me. I don’t want to deal with the horrifying embarrassment of telling him I want to sleep in the same bed. 

The rain was still falling, the occasional thunder sounding, but this time further away.

“Alright,” I say, turning to face him. I muster up a smile, and open my mouth to speak. 

Hoseok is looking at me with a rigged smile. 

“Good n-”

“Y/n?” Hoseok cut me off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He looks off to the side as he thinks.

I blink up at him, knowing what he wants to say. This shouldn’t be a big deal! Why are we both feeling so nervous? I’ve already had my hand around his dick for goodness sake! 

“I want you to come sleep in my room...with me.” He finally looks at me, staring at me with a cute uncertainty. 

I laugh, “Good! My goodness! I thought you weren’t going to say anything!” I chime, stepping out the guest bedroom. I closed the door behind me and saw Hoseok’s scoff of disbelief.

“What?” I ask.

“You were just going to watch me stress like that? Why didn't you say you wanted to sleep in my room?” He complained.

“Oh please! I don’t need to be the one making all the first steps!” I hissed, poked his chest.

“Plus, you’re the one that led me to a guest bedroom! I’ve already had my hand around your dick for fuck’s sake!” I add, giggling and the wink he gives me.

“Do you want it in your hands again?” He whispers, stepping closer to me. I back up, pressed against the guest bedroom door. He smirks at me, placing a bashful kiss on my cheek.

“Stop messing around!” I say, slipping past him while he snickers at my shyness. 

“Or, would you rather have it in your mouth this time?” He jeers. My eyes widen and I start screaming as if to run from the embarrassment that was manifesting it’s in my warm face.

He laughs at my cringing squeals, taking my hand in his and leading me towards the door at the end of the hallway. 

His room is dimly lit, but I could make out the beautiful ivory colored walls. The bed was a large king size bed that sat low. The black bed frame was low, only lifting the mattress off the floor a foot or two. The bedsheets were a rich and dark green, tying together the whole aura of the room. There was a tall lamp that stood on the left side of the bed, and it was the only light on. 

Though it was nothing compared to the lights fixtures in the ceiling, it didn’t leave me completely blind and in the dark. 

I wasn’t aware of how weird i must have looked, standing there, staring at his room like I’d never seen a bedroom in my whole life. 

 He squeezed my hand, pulling me out of my daze.

“I’m sorry what did you say?” I asked, blinking at him. 

“I was saying that the bathroom is that way.” He pointed to a door on the further right side of the room, “It’s the door on the right. There is an unopened toothbrush if you want to brush your teeth.” 

He released my hand and scratched the back of his head. He looked down at the floors as he spoke, making me want to giggle at the embarrassment that was showing itself in his red ears. 

It made me feel better to remember that it isn’t just me that has never had such intimate and close moments with people. Something like having my own toothbrush at Hoseok’s place is a big deal. It’s an unspoken step into new territory. 

“Thanks.” I said softly, walking around him and further into the room. The room was spacious but also cozy. It was pretty simple and showed that Hoseok doesn’t spend much time here. He works all the time so I’m sure he just plops down and sleeps. 

He doesn’t sit in here to relax or anything like that. I heard the door close as I walked towards the bathroom, followed by the sound on Hoseok sitting on the bed.

I brushed my teeth swiftly, admiring the bathroom as I did so. One of those big showers with the tile walls, and glass doors. There was also a big white bathtub on the other side of the room. The sink was large and in the middle of a long rectangular marble counter. I stare at myself in the crystal clear mirror, feeling a bit out of place as I stare at my extravagant surroundings.

I continued to brush my teeth, and rinsed my mouth thoroughly, I set the purple tooth brush in the cup that held another orange brush. I used one of the towels to wipe off any water from around my mouth and walked out the bathroom, shutting off the lights. 

When I step out I’m met by Hoseok laying on the bed, his back to me. I couldn’t be sure if he’d fallen asleep, but I didn’t want to wake him. He was under the blankets, and looked like he’d settled in for the night.

The lamp on his side of the room was off, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. The moonlight shining through the window provided enough light to let me see the outside of his body. I tiptoed  over to the bed, lifting up the blankets and sliding in. The bed and everything around me smelled like Hoseok.

I smiled to myself, and looked up at the ceiling before closing my eyes and turning onto my side. My back was facing Hoseok, and I tried to keep some space between us. I wasn’t sure how much space he wanted. 

I slowly started to fall asleep, the comfort of the heavy blankets and the scent of Hoseok around me lulling me. 

I was barely awake when I felt Hoseok shift beside me, muttering something in a hoarse voice. 

“So far away.” He grumbles, before I felt some more shuffling. He slid his arm under my body, causing me to hum in response, since I was barely awake. 

My eyes stayed closed and I turned my body so I was facing him. That’s clearly what he wanted, as he wordlessly curled his arm up, pushing my body till my head was on his chest. I was too sleepy to say anything. All I could do was cuddle closer and rest my hand on his chest. 

“Are you awake?” He asks softly. When I don’t reply, he shifts slightly so his face is buried in my hair.

I fell asleep peacefully as his hand found my back and rubbed soothing circles.

~!~

“Why did you choose today of all days to follow the speed limit?” I mutter at Hoseok. He chuckles but keeps his eyes on the road. He wasn’t going his usual speed today, and though I find his speeding distasteful, today it would have come in handy. 

We woke up late, which is no surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well in my whole life. Being in Hoseok’s warm embrace soothed me all the way down to my soul. Although we were running late, he was still in a good mood.

He drove me back to my apartment, waited for me to get dressed for work, and is now driving me to the hospital. I won’t see him most of today, but we agreed to see each other tonight.

As we pulled into the Seoul Sky hospital, I had my passenger door opened before the car came to a full stop. I grabbed my purse, making sure it had everything I needed. 

I leaned towards Hoseok, kissing him on the cheek before kissing him on the lips shortly. Two pecks on the lips before I pulled away beaming at him. 

“I’ll see you later.” I said. 

He showed me a small smile and nodded, “See you later.”

“Don’t work yourself too hard!” I exclaim as I step out of the car, “And remember to eat!”

I close the car door and Hoseok rolls down the window, “Even when you’re in a rush you still manage to nag me!” 

“I nag you because I l-” My words stop short and I clasp my hand over my mouth. Hoseok, oblivious to what I was about to confess, raises his eyebrows at me in question.

“Because you..?” He trails off, but all I can do is smile awkwardly. 

“See you later!” I shout and bolt away from the car. I don’t look back as I jog through the automatic sliding doors. 

“Good morning Dr. L/N!” A nurse calls out to me. I stop in my tracks, recognizing the nurses at the front desk. I smiled, waving at them energetically.

“Good morning!” I chimed. 

“You’re running a little late aren’t you?” The older nurse stated. 

I nodded my head but before I could open my mouth, the rest of the nurses giggled. 

“You don’t have to explain, we could see it through the glass doors. Time moves quickly when you’re in love.” The older nurse said.

I stood there a bit confused before looking behind me at the sliding doors. It really was a perfect view of where Hoseok had stopped the car. I turned back to the nurses who were cheesing at me. 

  “It’s wonderful to have you back Dr. L/n, let us know if you need help with anything.”

I thanked them, heading to my office quickly. I was in a rush so I settled on some black dress pants and a blue dress shirt. My hair was styled in a rush so it looks decent. I made it to my office, happy to see it again. It wasn’t locked, which is strange but I didn’t think much of it. I set my bag down and grabbed my white coat. I pulled it on quickly and went to my desk. 

All I’ll be doing today is paperwork so I might as well get comfortable. I took my seat and turned on my computer, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Jennie waltzed in here with all the work I’d have to do.

The computer switched on quickly, but something else took my attention. On my desk was a red envelope. I waste no time opening it, thinking it was a welcome back card. Oh how I was wrong. 

Dear, Y/n. I am so glad to have you back. The whole department has felt incomplete since you left. I was very hurt when Jennie informed me that you weren’t allowing anyone to visit you as you recovered. You did not answer my phone calls either. I was sad to hear you got hurt and fell down the stairs. It seems your boyfriend isn’t taking good care of you. But I am glad you have recovered fully. Please come see me when you have the chance. This may be inappropriate but the absence of your presence has helped me realize something. 

Sincerely Taemin. 

I stared at the letter in confusion. Now what the hell is Dr. Lee doing? What is this? My face scrunches up in annoyance as I read over the letter again. This is completely inappropriate and leaves me feeling uncomfortable. 

I’ve turned down Dr. Lee’s advances before, taking them as jokes but by the sound of this letter, he wanted me to take his advances seriously. I ignored the login screen of my computer and stood up from my chair with the letter in my hand. 

I stepped out my office and headed down the hallway, knowing that Dr. Lee would be making his rounds instead of being in his office. I’d have to go around a bit before finding him. But sitting on such an issue would leave me unable to work all day. 

I rounded the corner, greeting regular patients with a small smile. Some of them told me they missed me and others smiled at me with shining eyes. For a second I forgot about the awful letter Dr. Lee left for me. I am back at work and even though I’m stuck with paperwork, the atmosphere was enough for me. 

I turned around a corner and crashed into a familiar person.

“Hey, there you are!” Jennie chimed. She smiled at me, wearing her usual red lipstick and that iconic slicked ponytail was just as sharp as ever. Her eyelashes look really long and she looked happier than usual.

“Yup, I’m back to work. It feels great.” I answer. 

“I’m sure your date yesterday went well? You’re radiating happiness.” She mentions.

I raise an eyebrow at her, “Am I? Cause I'm pissed off.”

Her brows furrowed and she looked concerned. The question she was about to ask was clear.

“No, it has nothing to do with Hoseok. The date was...amazing.” My tone softens at the mention of Hoseok.

“So what’s got you so angry, so early in the morning?”

I handed her the letter, watching her face expression change as she opened it and read it. 

The humorless laugh that struggles it’s way past her lips makes me wanna scoff all over again.

“This is weird.” She groans. 

“It’s very weird.” I double down, “This is totally inappropriate. You know I am chill about many things, but I don’t like stuff like this at work from co-workers! How many times have I rejected him? This isn’t harmless banter anymore.” 

I speak in a low voice, watching as different nurses and doctors pass us. 

“Are you going to bring this up to Hose-”

I cut her off, “Of course not! I haven’t seen a jealous Hoseok and I don’t think I want to. He’ll come in here and scare Dr. Lee. Working here will be even more uncomfortable.”

“I know he’s on the second floor.” She says, and points towards the elevator not too far from us. 

“I can’t be sure how he’ll react so could you come with me?”

“Of course! Did you think I was going to let you do that alone? Let’s go!” She takes hold of my arm and pulls me along. 

While in the elevator she tells me about all the awful comments he’d make while I was gone. Jennie brushed most of them off but a few were too much.

He’d say, “Where is that boyfriend of hers?”

“That guy looks controlling. She doesn’t want me to visit her or he doesn’t?”

And a few more that were totally unfitting for a work environment. She wasn’t even going to bring it up to me, but she didn’t expect ‘love letters’ to start becoming a thing.

The elevator doors opened and before we stepped off we could hear chaos. Jennie and I looked at each other in disarray. We stepped off the elevator to hear loud yelling and shouting from different people. Other patients were running away from the noise, telling us that it was coming from our right.

Our stroll turned into a speed walk, and I hid the letter in my lab coat pocket. We turn the corner and the yelling is louder. 

We see Dr. Lee and Dr. Shin, a newer doctor standing outside a familiar hospital room.

“Mrs. Choi?” I mutter to myself. Jennie and I approach the situation, Dr. Lee being the first one to see us. I don’t miss the way he smiles when he spots me. I had to fight a grimace off my face.

“What is going on?” Jennie askes, catching Dr. Shin’s attention this time. She moves her focus from Jennie and right to me. 

“Oh thank you goodness you’re back Dr. L/n! Please calm these ladies down!” She cries, running her fingers through her auburn hair. 

I take a look into the room, the door being wide open. There was Mrs. Choi screaming at the top of her lungs at another woman. This woman was a lot younger than her, looking to be in her late 20’s. Her hair was long and brown with soft waves. She wore stylish jeans with boots and a lovely top and a lovely trench coat. 

From the wonderful jewelry on her neck and the rings on her fingers, she’s clearly someone who is well off. Both women were red in the face while they screamed at each other.

“Who is the younger lady? Why haven’t you called security?” I looked at both Dr. Lee and Dr. Shin. 

“Well…” Dr. Shin hesitated to speak, looking down at her feet in guilt. 

“So I was wonder why Mrs. Choi didn’t have any family? She was feeling so down lately and her husband wasn’t getting any better. The psychical therapists said she was losing motivation in their sessions so I tried to help.” Dr. Shin looked up to find my dubious face expression.

I crossed my arms over my chest, “What did you do?” I hate how accusing my tone was, but the hospital Dr. Shin transferred from told us she would cause trouble. A lot of nurses have been avoiding her. Some say she’s too spunky, and focuses too much on making her personality shine through.

“I did some digging and it turns out she has kids! There was no information on the son, but I was able to find her daughter! So I invited her daughter here as a surprise.”

Both Jennie and I groaned. 

“You can't do things like that!” Jennie scolded.

“I know, I know! But I didn’t think things would turn out like this!” She whined.

I couldn’t say anything to Dr. Shin as the argument between the two women was escalating.

“What is the daughter’s name?” Jennie whispers. 

“Her english name in Helena. We don’t know her Korean name.” Dr. Lee answers. 

“You don’t get my pity mom!” Helena shouts. She’s standing at the end of her mother’s bed tears running down her cheeks. 

“You set me away! You pushed everyone away! You tricked yourself into believing dad was a bad person because you wanted an excuse for falling out of love with him! You could have just divorced him!”

“You don’t know what I was going through!” Ms. Choi shouts back.

Helena snaps back just as quickly, “You sent me away! You sent me away from you, dad...Hobi.”

Hobi? Who is that?

“I sent you away because I wanted you to be safe! I love you Helena!” Mrs. Choi’s voice was growing hoarse from the screaming and  I was getting ready to jump in.

“Bullshit!” Helena spits, “Bullshit! You sent me away and never called. I never even got a fucking letter. I grew up without you. I graduated college without you. I moved on with my life without you. You never cared for me. You were so fucking focused on Hobi! You just wanted me out the way. No one would tell me where the fuck Hobi was so I couldn’t find him to even attend dad’s funeral.”

Dad’s funeral? So Mrs. Choi’s husband who is in the coma, is not the father of her daughter?

She vigorously wipes her tears off her face, “You keep telling yourself you did what you had to when in reality, you’re just a shitty person.”

“Am I?” Ms. Choi croaks, “Am I really that awful because I thought I deserved to be happy?” 

“Your journey to happiness left a path of destruction for everyone else. You’ve lost you fucking mind if you believe anything you did was okay.” Helena’s voice toned down. The both of the basked in the heavy silence. 

Helena let out a solemn chuckle, almost like her mother was the joke.

“Well, mom,” she emphasized the word ‘mom’, “Did you find the happiness you wanted?” I couldn’t see her face fully, just her profile...but she reminded me of someone.

She shows her mom a sarcastic smile, “I mean look at you. Look at where you are. Your new precious husband is stuck in a long sleep and they don’t know when he’ll wake up. Your legs aren’t working and you’re all alone. I only showed up so I could get the years of hurt off my chest. So since you can’t run away…” She gestures to her mom in the bed. 

“I’m gonna finally say, fuck you mom. Dad was never the bad guy. Hobi might have been gullible enough to believe your foolishness but I always saw right through it. It was you...it was always you. You don’t deserve any happiness.” She finishes, glaring at the old woman staring back at her with sad eyes. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after that. I will waltz in here every day and remind you that this is a product of your own choices. When you’re ready to apologize I’ll listen.” She grabs her purse from the guest chair and turns to face all of us at the door. 

Her eyes flicker across  each of our faces and I feel a prick in my chest. I feel weird. Should I know this lady? Something tells me I should know Helena but I’m drawing a blank. 

She pushes past us and down the hallway.

No one speaks to Mrs. Choi and she doesn’t speak to us. We all can only shift in discomfort. No words could bring comfort after such harsh lashings were thrown. We can only look on in distraught cause for some reason...the pity we’ve felt for poor old Ms. Choi was no more. 

♠----♠----♠-----♠

Alrightty, what did you guys think?! Things are progressing right! We’re moving into the next phase of the story! Yay! 

Tell me what you think? What do you think will happen next? How do you feel about Mrs. Choi? Was she right in what she did?

Inbox me too! I love hearing y’alls thoughts!

[whatwouldvalerydo]

Sparks fly

Have you ever wondered how Oliver set his eyes on Victoria? Well let's just say this is how it started. Oli belongs to the brilliant @kc-and-oc

Slowly opening the door to the kitchen, Oliver was surprised to find out he was not the only one in there. Reaching on a higher shelf, getting on her tip toes, Victoria stretched out her hand, taking a jar. He remained in the doorway, watching as she opened it, sniffed the content then pouted as she crossed something on a piece of paper in front of her.

Walking inside, he cleared his throat as to not startle her, Victoria turning to him with wide eyes, placing a hand over her heart “Apologies, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I thought it was a professor or something.” Looking at another jar, she smiled to herself at the sight of him there. His curly hair was wild, more than likely having taken a shower that night, not styling it as per usual. She loved seeing him like that, carefree, wearing just a sweater to help keep him warm in the cold dungeons “What are you doing up at this hour?” picking up another ingredient she frowned, discarding the content of the jar in the bin “That is so not right.”

Oliver chuckled at her reaction “I was just hungry and couldn’t sleep.” Walking closer to her, he peered over her shoulder at some ingredients written down “What is this for?”

“The perfume I promised you.” She sighed, turning to face him “I just feel like I can’t get the last scent right.” Looking up at him, a smile spread across her lips, Oliver looking at her amused “Can I ask something odd?”

“Please, curious to know what it is now.”

“Can I smell you?” she cringed as the question left her mouth, Oliver letting out a surprised laugh.

“If you think it helps.”

His eyes lowered as Victoria reached out to take his hand, lifting it to her face. Pushing back the long sleeve, her nose touched his wrist, him watching her with curious eyes as her brows drew together “Did you wash your hands recently? You smell like soap.”

It was fascinating how she could pick up on something like that “I did, guess it doesn’t help does it?” her confirming it with a nod of her head as she let go of his hand “Would it help if I wash my hands again?”

“No, water won’t wash it out that fast. The smell is fresh and recent, it would still linger.”

Looking up at him, her eyes lit up as another idea came to her, she could not smell his shampoo or what he used to shower with, so it must have been done a few hours prior to him deciding to come down to the kitchens. His hair wasn’t even damp, so she figured, why not.

Closing the space between them, her arms rose to circle around his neck, Oliver’s eyes growing wide as she pulled him closer. He could not wrap his mind around what was happening or what she wanted to do, however he could feel his heart have a mind of its own as it started beating faster.

Slowly, Victoria brought him near until she could reach his neck, her closing her eyes as she inhaled softly, her nose tickling his skin slightly. She already could distinguish chamomile, she had before, it was one of the scents he carried, subtle, but still there.

In an absentminded gesture, her fingers played in his hair, Oliver placing his hands on her waist to steady himself against her. This wasn’t the first time she had been near her, however it felt different for some reason as her hot breath traced his neck, a flush dusting his cheeks.

Caramel made Victoria smile, it was such an Oliver thing, a soft exhale leaving her lips as she concentrated on him.

He figured he would have gotten used to her being so close, however it still agitated him, his heart beats ringing in his ears so loud he figured there was no way she could not hear each trepidation. He was far too aware of her, even as her arms unravelled, her opening her eyes to look at him, Oliver wondering if her eyes have always been so green.

“Pears, I don’t believe it.” She smiled delighted.

“What?” he asked in a daze as she took a step back, him letting her go. Turning her back to him, she picked up her quill and parchment, walking over to a shelf to pick up the missing ingredient she needed to compliment the last scent. Waving at him with a smile, he just waved back, blinking a few times even after she was gone.

The following days he found himself going back inside his mind to the late night encounter, eyes following her around class when she talked to someone, how she smiled and it didn’t take him too long to realise he was smitten.

[goodlucktkachuk]

Cheer you up - Carter Hart

Summary: Carter was the best boyfriend you could ever hoped for. The two of you moved in together at the start of quarantine and with school starting up for you again, you’ve been super stressed. He decides to do something nice for you and he planned the perfect at home self care night. When he went shopping he grabbed the wrong kind of face mask and his reaction is more then enough to cheer you up.

Warnings: None this is just super fullfy and cute

Word count: 2k+

Back to school was your favorite times of year. There was something about buying new supplies and the rush of campus that made electricity flow through your body but this year was different. Not only were you cooped up in Philly with your boyfriend Carter but it was your last year of university which added some pressure.

You had met Carter when you guys were sixteen and it was the definition of love at first sight. You went to everyone of his games and were more then extatic when he got drafted to Philly. You had just started university so you stayed in Alberta while he got to live his dream. You guys made the distance work but you were definitely missing some of those quality time moments your friends took for granted in their relationships. When this whole mess of a pandemic started, Carter asked you to move in with him for the time being and you jumped at the chance.

The months before Carter was sent to Toronto were filled with you searching for internships and him doing whatever training he could do at home so you would usually do your own thing but together. The first few weeks of Carter being sent home from the bubble were hard but he had you there to cook him all of his favourites and spend endless nights cuddling to his favorite movies. It was exactlly what he needed to recover as the summer slowly faded away. Now as autumn filled the air it was once again your turn to be stressed.

It was a sunny September morning and you found yourself on your second cup of coffee in Carter’s home office. Your makeup was done perfectly and your hair was pulled up into a messy bun as one of Carter's worn out practices hoodies hung on your frame. You were thankful that your laptop camera cut out the fact you were still in your pjs with a blanket wrapped tight around your waist. As much as you liked the idea of Zoom lectures, the several hours of classes and meetings really dragged the fun out of your days.

Around 10am your boyfriend stumbled out of bed and you could hear the soft hum of music and dishes clanking coming from the kitchen as he made the two of you breakfast. After a few minutes you heard the door slowly creek open and you were met with a sleepy Carter. A smile covering your lips as you watched him make his way into the room. His hair was tousled in every direction and his pjs hung low on his waist giving you a clear view of his entire bare torso. You weren’t with Carter because he was a professional athlete but it was mornings like this you that you could appreciate all the hours he spent training.

You turned off your webcam as he put a smoothie bowl in front of you and planted a kiss on your temple, mumbling a soft I love you against your skin. You pulled him in for a quick kiss and he was gone again. This is how most days went. Carter would bring you breakfast and lunch and refill your water through the day while you worked and he knew when you finally stumbled out of the room it was time for dinner. He was more than happy to have you around but he wished you didn’t have to spend so many hours locked away.

This morning in particular he could see how drained you were and decided that tonight would be all about you. You deserved it with all the hard work you’d been doing. Slipping into your shared bedroom he got dressed and texted you quickly saying he was running to the store and he’d be back soon.

The one thing about Carter was that he prided himself on how romantic he was. He knew you like the back of his hand and used that to his advantage whenever he possible could. Whether it was expensive dinners when you were together, sending you bouquets of sunflowers when he was away or the odd care package full of his clothes with sweet notes in the pockets, the boy knew how to make you happy. Something the two of you had never done though was self care which in hindsight should’ve been one of your first dates because of how much you loved it.

This was the game plan. He was going to the store to pick up all the ingredients he needed to cook you your favorite food, some instant cookie dough for you guys to bake after dinner, face masks to do together and new vanilla soap to end the night with a bath together. After what seemed like the longest shopping experience ever he was met with the last stop, picking out face masks. It didn’t cross Carter's mind that there could be so many different kinds to choose from it kind of overwhelmed him. How could there be this much variety of things you put on your face? Why did they come in so many colors? So many scents? Lost, he randomly grabbed a black bottle for himself and a soft violet one for you and headed home.

When he returned you were still nose deep in books in the same position he left you so he knew you wouldn’t be finished anytime soon. He put the bathroom supplies into a cute basket he picked up and placed it on the corner of the counter as he started assembling dinner. After a few hours you were brought out of your daze by the smell of something delicious filling the room. Closing your book and laptop you decided to wrap it up for the day and see what your boyfriend was up to.

As you made your way to the kitchen you were met with Carters back as he was portioning something out onto two plates. You were in awe as you turned your attention to the table. It was perfectly set with a fresh vase of flowers and your favorite candles were lit to set the mood. You caught your boyfriends eye as he made his way over to the table to set down the two plates. Making his way over to you, he placed his hands lazily around you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Surprise babe!” He was beaming with pride as he walked you to your chair, pulling it out for you to sit.

“What is all this for?” You panicked for a moment thinking you forgot an anniversary or something important. Carter could hear the concern in your voice which made him laugh.

“Just wanted to do something nice for my girl that’s all.” He smiled widely as he filled your glass with white wine.

The meal was absolutely delicious and the company was even better. As you picked up your plate to clear it Carter sent you a look and you slowly placed it back down. He had a rule where if he cooked for you he refused to let you touch the dishes because it was his way of showing how much he loved you. The same rule went a few minutes later as the two of you struggled to make the world's easiest cookies.

“Carter you have to twist it!” You giggled as you watched your boyfriend struggle to pry the top off the cookie dough.

“That doesn’t make sense Y/n!” Tired of watching him struggle you snatched it from his hand.

“Hey! Give that back!” He yelled as he began to chase you around the kitchen. He eventually snatched you by the waist, pulling your back into his chest. At the same time you tapped the cylinder off the counter and cranked it with a hard twist and watched the dough split open.

Pouting into your shoulder Carter let out a sigh of defeat and exhaustion.

“See, if you listened you could have avoided the work out.”

“For you sweetheart, I’d run to the other side of the world .” He leaned down and brought you into a sweet kiss. Even after six years, fireworks still exploded in your stomach everytime his lips touched yours. 

“Hey Alexa, play kinda freaking in love with you on spotify.” You placed the cookie dough on the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed his around your waist. You danced around your kitchen for what felt like an eternity. The two of you swaying and spinning, looking into the other eyes with such admiration. Both of you thinking of how sweet this moment would be at your wedding but keeping those thoughts locked up tight. Eventually the preheating timer for the oven went off and ripped the two of you out of your day dream.

“Come one the faster we make these the faster we can eat them!” He sprang out of your grasp and laughter filled the kitchen as you finished up.

Your favorite part about these kinds of nights with Carter was that it felt like you were in your own universe. The two of you were protected from the outside world and all that matter was each other.

Once you had cleaned up it was on to the third phase of the night which you knew was going to be your favorite. Grabbing the basket off the counter you skipped to the bathroom with your boyfriends hand pressed firmly into yours. You hopped up on the counter and handed him the purple bottle as you took the black one in your hand. Extending your leg, you half wrapped it around his and pulled him closer to you. Squirting some of the liquid into your hands you started slowly rubbing it into his skin.

“Ahh babe that's cold!” He chuckled as he tried to pull away.

“Just sit still! You’ll get used to it I promise.” He relaxed into your touch and stopped fighting you. Soon after you were done he followed suit, putting the light purple clay all over your face with only light guidance. You stayed like that while the masks dried. Your legs lazily tangled in his with his hands on your waist whispering sweet nothings with massive grins covering your faces. Hopping off the counter you pulled out your phone to snap a cute picture of the two of you and it was time to take off the masks.

“So all you have to do is start at the edge of your face and pull gently.” You demstraded, wincing slightly as it pulled on your skin.

“What do you mean pull? I thought you just washed these off with water?”

“Some kinds yes but you bought peel off ones.”

“I did?”

You reached down and placed the bottle into his hand. Examining it closely seeing you were right a look of horror crossed his face. You didn’t pay much mind to your boyfriend as you were pulling off your own mask. He had gotten most of it off his face with minimal mumbling of curse words but then he ran into a problem.

“Y/n…” his vice trailed off as he looked at you and you burst out laughing. Carter stood in front of you with his face mask clingy to his stubble making it look like he had bread and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“Y/n this isn’t funny help me!” He whined, causing you to laugh even harder.

“Okay, okay! Sit still muffin. This is gonna hurt a little bit.” a wicked grin covered your face as you worked.

You tried your best not to hurt him too bad and he honestly took it like a champ. When it was all over you peeled off your mask. You could hear the water begin to run in the other direction and you could also hear the sound of Carter’s clothes hitting the floor making your cheeks stain red. It wasn’t long before your clothes joined his pile on the floor and you were wrapped in the warm embrace of both your boyfriend and the water. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch and felt his chest rise and sink against your back. He placed a small kiss on your temple and pulled you in closer.

“I love you.”

“Love you more C.”

[4booga]

I can't come up with a decent title for this so take it. Also this is my first fanfic

 Ludwig heard the quiet ringing of the bell above his head as he stepped right into the bakery. It was only four am but he could already feel the stress of the day press down on to him. He took a deep breath in as he smelled the faint scent of brown sugar and chocolate as he relaxed his tense shoulders. "Good morning Miss Cohen. How did you sleep last night?" He called out quietly to an older woman who was preparing the daily recipes for the day at one of the booths as he headed into the back of the kitchen. His eyes drifted to his brown teddy apron hanging up neatly on his personal hook. The German couldn't help but smile at the fact that his name above the hook had seemed to be bedazzled with pastel blue gems. He tied the apron around his waist tightly before he finally heard her reply.

 "I slept well sugar. Should we make the usual today or should we spice it up and make honey cakes?" Her voice was soft and gentle as she closed her faded book. She gave him a kind smile as she stood up to help "You don't have to be so formal with me Ludwig. You can call me Jane or you can call me Momma. I don't care if you choose one over the other!" Jane's voice was sweet as she made her way into the kitchen before staring up at the younger man in front of her. "Did you sleep well last night? Did you eat breakfast? Don't make me sit you down and make you an omelette!" Even though he towered over her she still couldn't help but fuss over him.

 "Yes I did eat today Jane and I slept last night." He felt like he couldn't call her momma just yet so he called her by her first name. The blonde smiled down at the graying brunette before she smiled up at him with a chuckle. "I think we should make honey cakes today since they usually sell out fast." His voice was lacking his usual brass and loudness as he began helping her with her apron, leaning down since she only stood at around four foot five compared to his six foot six. 

 Jane turned around quickly once her apron was secured around her waist before she pulled out a headband from her pocket that had bear ears attached to it. She gently pushed back his blonde hair from his forehead before pinning the stray hairs with the head band. "You look so handsome bärchen." She spoke to him teasingly while pinching one of his flushing cheeks. "Let's get started with making chick buns before the cakes so they can have some time to rise while the cakes cook!" Her hands were clasped together as she thought about all the people who would enjoy their hard work. She walked over to the sink before using her stepping stool to wash her hands before gloving them.

 Ludwig waited patiently behind her before watching her kick her stool along to the pantry door. He began washing his hands carefully while whistling a soft love song which filled the quiet room. He dried off his hands as he gloved them before helping her grab the things off the shelves that she was too short to reach. His gloved hands were already becoming stained with yellow dye from the box of food coloring before the older woman quickly put it back on the shelf. 

 "I'm thinking we change up the recipe a little, Luddy. I think we should use lemons instead of the normal food dye in the buns. It will give it a nice sweet flavor instead of the savory one that they are use to! I can just change the label for it in the food case before it goes out!" Jane spoke to him with a smile as she dug through the gigantic fridge for the bag of lemons she had just bought a few days ago. "Also someone mentioned in the store a few days ago that they can't have food dye so it will be a great alternative even though we can't get the normal bright yellow." Her voice never wavered from her kind tone as she kicked her stool back over to the sink to wash the lemons.

 Ludwig's smile grew at her enthusiasm before grabbing the juicer from one of the many pink cabinets that lined the back wall. "Are you sure we should change it?" His voice was calm as he already began grabbing the cutting board along with one of the knives from the drawer. He grabbed one of the already washed lemons before carefully slicing it in half. He focused on the task in front of him as he placed the halved lemons next to each other on the granite countertop as he moved on to the next one. His thoughts began drifting with each lemon he sliced in half before he yelped out in pain as he felt the sharp blade cut into his gloved finger. It wasn't deep but it still hurt all the same. "Ah fuck..." When he swore he felt his injured hand carefully grabbed and placed into Jane's much softer and small hands.

 "Are you alright sugar?" Jane began carefully looking at the cut as soft hiss of sympathy left her lips. "We have to wash that quickly. Lemon juice in cuts ain't fun." She led him over to the sink before running the stinging cut underneath the cool water as she removed his gloves. "I'll get you a bandage and you just wash it!" Her voice was firm as he watched her leave the room to grab the first aid kit in the small break room above them in the second floor. 

 Ludwig weakly nodded his head before scrubbing soap into the cut before letting out a quiet sound of pain. With gritted teeth she watched the soapy water mixed drip down his fingers before he patted it dry. He could hear her footsteps from before he leaned against one of the countertops to make it easier for her to patch him up. 

 "You really need to be more careful with yourself. You might think you're invulnerable but you aren't." Jane's voice was firm but still gentle as she wiped disinfectant over his finger before placing a childish Hello Kitty bandaid over the small cute before gently kissing it better like he was a small child. "Now I'll start making the chick buns and you start on the honey cakes." Her voice was still firm before she gently patted his cheeks. "And don't forget to put on a fresh pair of gloves sweetheart." She quickly removed her gloves before washing her hands to remove any chemicals from taking care of his small injury.

 Ludwig nodded before rewashing his hands, placing a fresh pair of gloves carefully over his bandaid. He walked over to the large mixer as he took a deep breath in through his nose. His eyes drifted over to the lamented book next to the mixer before flipping to the page that read honey cake in large font. His fingers slowly drifted down the page as he began quietly muttering the ingredients to himself before heading over to the pantry. He began grabbing everything he needed along with the honey before walking over to the bowl. "How many are we making today?" He asked her quietly while turning towards her.

 "I think we can make thirty four for today." Jane called back over to him as she began squeezing the lemons for their juice. Her hands were skilled with each squeeze before she began grating peel for the zest. "Remember to go easy on the honey. It's pretty strong! We actually want to make sure people can eat our food." Her teasing was different from the way his brother would normally tease him which made the young German smile. She ordered him to as she waited for the yeast to feed on the sugar in her bowl before she could begin adding in the flour and lemon juice.

 "I will." After Ludiwg spoke the pair soon fell into an easy silence with only the occasional sound of the mixer filling the air. His eyes slowly began to close as he rested against the countertop before he quickly snapped himself awake before slowly mixing the key ingredient into the batter. He watched the beater slowly mix it in before he sighed quietly while taking a steadying breath in.

 "Luddy are you alright? You're not as talkative today. Did you brother make fun of you again?" Even though it sounded like a childish question coming from the older woman but she still spoke it out loud to the German. "Or is something else on your mind? You can talk while we make buns." She patted the empty spot on the countertop next to her before she watched the blonde walk over to her.

 "Jane you're good with feelings right? There is someone I'm friends with and I feel weird when I'm with them." Ludwig began speaking as he grabbed a fresh pair of gloves to prevent any contamination from happening between the two different recipes. "He makes me feel different and I don't know how to describe it to anyone else...It's not a bad feeling though!" He stared down at the near pastel yellow dough in front of him before slowly working it into a small ball.

 "Well maybe I can help you with your problem. I might not be the best but I'll try and help you." The older of the two kind spoke to him as she began working her own ball of dough. She began quietly humming as she waited for him to describe the feeling that had been distracting him.

 "He makes me feel like I have really bad indigestion all the time when I'm with them. He makes me feel shaky but not in a bad way just like being next to he makes me feel like I could collapse. Sometimes when I stand next to him I just want to hold his hand and smile with him." Ludwig stared down at the bun before picking up the small detailing knife as he carefully carved the wing shape into the dough. "I also feel sad too like something stopping me and won't let me actually touch him." His voice was barely audible as she gave him a kind smile.

 "Well I think you're in love with him. It's normal for some people to feel that way in love. You could feel sad because you know that you can't love him or because you're scared of being loved by him. He can also be taken and you know he like the other person better." Jane's voice was carefully choosing each word as she placed the finished bun on to the baking sheet. She gently squeezed his hand before gently placing his finished bun next to hers. "You weren't taught about emotions when you were young. Am I right?" She didn't want to be right but she had a sinking feeling she was.

 "Oh..." That was the only thing that could leave his throat at the relationvation before thinking about her question. Ludwig nodded weakly before she gave him a kind but weak smile. "Gilbert was always busy so I was mostly left alone since he was the only one raising me." He bit the inside of his cheek before making another bun as she gave him a look of pity and sadness. "But I grew up happy even though I had to learn about a lot of things from my friends later in life."

 The duo fell into another quiet silence as she gently squeezed his hand in her own smaller one every few seconds. After a few minutes the buns were ready to rise for the second time as he walked over to the cake batter to pour it into the pan. He poured the batter in carefully into the four deep pans in front of him before scraping the bowl clean from any of the remaining dough. He placed it into the already preheated oven before setting the timer for it. He yawned quietly as he stretched his back. 

 "Did you lie about sleeping last night young man?" Jane turned to him with a knowing smile before patting his back. "You really don't need to act tough all the time. I know you wanted to cry when you cut your hand but you didn't. Your body needs different things and right now you need sleep."

 The German's pale cheeks began heating up as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well I did sleep an hour so I didn't actually lie. My new blood pressure medication kind of messed up my sleeping schedule." He could feel her brown eyes drill into him before she tsked quietly while leading him to the stairs.

 "Go take a nap now. I'll watch the store and you can take a two hour nap. I'll wake you up before we're supposed to open. The blanket is on the break room couch and there are snacks for you in the fridge if you wake up hungry." The older woman spoke to him firmly before gently shoving him up the first step. "No go. Get some sleep and then you can come back down to help me."

 The young man didn't move from the first step before he turned around to face her. He gave her a quick but kind hug while taking a deep breath in as he smelled the faint scent of lavender and soap in her curly hair before he felt her hug him back with a soft chuckle. He quickly let her go before turning his back to her. "Thank you momma." Those were his last words as he walked up the wooden stairs.

[bexterbex]

Masking the Heart | Ch. 3

A new galactic war was forming, and your star system needed to create an alliance. Your father, the king, made a deal with the First Order in a promise of protection for guaranteed trade. You are arranged to marry the Commander Kylo Ren, apprentice of the Supreme Leader. A man who is hidden behind his mask. Will your husband show you his heart? Or will it be forever hidden behind a mask?

No tag lists | Masterlist

*Note: The author of this work does not condone arranged marriage practices, domestic abuse, or non-con sexual encounters, this work is for fictional uses only.*

Chapter 3

You woke up with a kink in your neck from falling asleep in the window seat. It was a comfortable place to read and sit but not one to sleep. And you could feel the effects your body had after the last two days, you were sore and aching in a way you never knew was possible. You struggled to get up and walk back to your room to grab your datapad. There was a new message in the inbox from your husband.

Princess Ren,

Today a droid will deliver a pill to you. Take it. I was aware that you were not on any sort of birth control when we married, and this will rectify any possible problems from our last two rendezvous. That same droid will also implant a device into your arm to prevent any accidental pregnancies from happening.

I am aware that you will need to produce an heir for your star system at some point, but for now I require you to remain childless. We will have a further discussion in the future on how we are to go about this.

You are also expected not to leave the chambers without my permission. This will give you plenty of time to learn about the First Order. I will inform you when I am to be back, at my earliest convenience.

                                                                                             Commander Kylo Ren

              Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

So he was going to keep you infertile until he needed you to be pregnant. Now you didn’t have a possible excuse to escape his needs. You were going to be forever trapped in a cycle with him, but at least you had a week to be away from him.

You ordered yourself breakfast as you scrolled through your ‘learning’ material. All of it seemed to be some sort of propaganda that the First Order fed to its citizens and ‘troopers. You had been eating and reading for a bit before you heard an alert at the door. You answered it, and in came a small flying black droid. The one that would give you the pill and the device.

It prompted you to sit in one of the chairs as it dispensed the pill and a small glass of water for you to take it with. Then came the insertion of the device. It prompted you to hold out your non-dominant arm which you compiled as you watched it inject you with a local anesthetic. You watched as it effortlessly sliced a small line into your arm and inserted the device. And then it applied you with a layer of bacta and a bandage. Once it was finished it gave out a happy trill sound before it left you completely alone once more.

You sat in the chair for a while, thinking about your future, or rather the lack of it thereof. You were to be his wife, but not just that, you were to warm his bed whenever he saw fit; you were to obey his commands and stay isolated in your chambers, only coming out whenever he approved of it. In many ways you felt like a concubine, the only real difference was the ring on your finger and the last name you had taken.

You had no future without him, but with him you had no future of your own. You were bound to him, now for eternity and there was nothing you could do about it. Especially because it might come as a cost to your people. Your freedom for theirs. ‘Your duty was to the crown and its people.’ He was now the future crown, someone you would have to obey always.

The next few days came and went with a blur. You had tried to make a regular schedule of getting up, having breakfast, daily hygiene, learning, and some light exercise. You were grateful that the main living space was large; it meant that you could walk in a large circle around the room. There really was little for you to do, you had tried to order just ingredients through the datapad but the authorization was denied. You needed to ask your husband directly to approve it and according to the message center he was offline all week.

So here you were a day before he was supposed to return bored out of your mind. In your pacing you had accidentally hit the entry button to your husband’s room with your arm. It made a loud error sound. Curiosity killed the cat, so you actually placed your hand against the sensor and it repeated the sound. So now you knew that you were not allowed access to his room, but he was allowed access to yours.

Fitting.

Today you tried to entertain yourself with some videos on the holonet but nothing seemed to be working. Nothing at all. You had been basically isolated for the past week with your only contact being that of the droids that delivered your food. You were lonely, and by all accounts you missed your husband, because even if he didn’t treat you like another human being he was at least one himself. But that seemed to be all that you could say about him.

You heard your datapad ping with a message alert. It was Kylo.

Princess Ren,

I will be back earlier than expected, 1 H from now.

                                                                                             Commander Kylo Ren

              Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

That hour did not give you much time to prepare. But why did you really need to prepare? He hadn’t given you any orders to be properly dressed for him. Or really do anything for that matter. But you decided to do it anyway, you weren’t ready to try to test the boundaries yet, so you got ready. By the time you were done and had exited your room you had a few seconds before he came barging in.

You were two steps out your door, as he crowded into your space pushing you back into the bedroom. You could see his robes were dirty and singed, he smelled as if he had gotten off straight from the battlefield. You were pretty sure that there was probably blood on his robes too as he shoved you down onto the bed. Like the kitchen before he left, he did not strip you; he did not face you; he was going to take you from behind.

Although this time he wasn’t going to bind your wrists, it seemed like he didn’t even have enough patience for that. Your skirt was hiked up, underwear once again ripped off as he quickly sheathed a full gloved finger inside of you. Your cunt clenched around it for a few seconds before it was replaced by his hardened cock. Like the previous two times he had taken pleasure in you, he was unrelenting. You were practically being smothered in your own sheets as you struggled to breathe.

While there were tears in your eyes from the pain, you could hear his vocal pleasure through the mask. The distorted sounds made him more animal than human, which wasn’t far off from how he was acting. You were there for him; you were his prey. It seemed pretty evident that he did not care for you, he only cared about what you could offer him.  

You wondered how your life would be different, if you were married to another man. Would he take you just as harshly? Would he speak to you? Or would you be in roughly the same boat? As far as you could tell right now your husband wasn’t a kind man, nor was he gentle in any way. You also wondered just how many men were built like him in the galaxy. He was certainly very strong as he seemed to demolish your cervix. Even with your uttered lack of experience you knew he was large for a man, especially as each thrust bruised you to your core. He was large enough to cause a lot of pain, stretching you completely.

You felt his already crushing grip tighten. His grunts got longer and deeper as you felt his pace stutter. And then you felt him spill into you, the hot rushing cum filling you. You were now thankful for his insistent use of birth control, this was not how you wanted to bring a child into the world. Especially when its father would be a practical stranger to you, let alone help you raise it.

And like before he slipped out of you without any word, without any signal to tell you he was really through. And he left you there on your tear-stained mattress, the skirt of your dress still around your waist as the door shut behind him. As you attempted to get up, you could feel the remnants leak out of you. You practically crawled into the refresher. Starting your usual scalding hot bath to clean yourself, to attempt to get rid of his remnants. To scrub your skin absolutely bare.

You had a relatively shorter bath this time around; you had already been through this twice before. You left the refresher in only a towel, but this time as you were getting dressed your husband re-entered your room. His robes were changed and you could smell the fresh scent of soap on him as he crowded into your personal space. He had bathed just like you had done. Still in the towel you clenched it around you, although it really wouldn’t do you much good as he has already seen you naked, and could request you as such any time.

He leaned down to your level, his masked face inches away from yours. You could see your breath fog up the black steel. It was like staring down the most dangerous predator in the galaxy. He brought his hand up to yank the towel away, leaving you exposed to him. His hand trailed down your body, the leather causing goosebumps along your skin. He trailed down to your pelvis, his hand dipping between your thighs. You could feel his fingers tentatively tease your folds, before he plunged his middle finger into you before he forcefully used his thumb against your crotch, pushing your canal forward. Squeezing your delicate parts forward, like the organs were just movable. The grasp made you yell out in pain, and then he pushed two other fingers into you. It was like the grab of death. The pressure on the inside of your walls was basically unbearable.

As he continued to cause immense pressure and pain he started to thrust his fingers in and out of you. This went on for a while as he watched your face closely, while you writhed in pain. Eventually he pulled his fingers out and while you prepared for his dick to be shoved in, that wasn’t what happened. Instead, he brought his now slick leather-clad fingers up to your mouth. Pushing them against your lips. “Open,” was what he commanded. You compiled as he shoved them into your mouth, almost gagging you. “Now clean them.”

Your eyes widened in shock at the vulgar request, but you couldn’t help but obey him. Tasting yourself wasn’t an overly pleasant experience, from both the actual outcome of the tasting and the taste itself. But once you had sucked them clean his fingers slid out of your mouth with a pop. You then watch as he unzipped the front of his pants, his erection springing free. In an instant you were shoved down hard to your knees. As you gasped at the sudden shock of being pushed down, he took this as an opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth gagging you.

“Take it,” he commanded.

If there weren't already tears running down your face from his initial hold on your pussy, they definitely were now as he rammed himself down your throat. “Suck and take it,” his voice was harsh and menacing coming through his mask. You did as best as you could, but you were sobbing the whole time as he continued to thrust down the back of your throat. He was hardly allowing you to breathe, still seeking his own pleasure. You were just some toy for him to play with, an object for him to use. You could feel your own saliva dripping out of your mouth and running down your chin as he continued his harsh fucking of your face.

As he unloaded into your mouth, you started to gag even more, “Swallow Princess.” Your title came out like an insult on his lips, but you did your best to obey him, choking down his hot cum. Once he was finished he pulled out and ordered, “Clean it.”

You looked up at him, rather unsure as to what to do since when he ordered you to clean his fingers he just shoved them into your mouth until you sucked them clean. This time however you lick him clean like his cock was an ice cream cone, only this cone was hot, salty and thick. Once he was satisfied with your cleaning job, he shoved his cock back into his pants before he leaned down to you. His face still above yours, but he didn’t say anything. He just seemed to stare at you while you were beneath him. He held his position of power over you, both figuratively and literally. And then he left, leaving you alone once more.

And here you were crying while butt naked on the floor. Your husband was just using you, not caring for your feelings or wants. No. You were his and his to own. You must please him, he is the future of the crown. ‘Your duty was to the crown and its people.’