#still have yet to come up with a name for her boutique…

[smolnuggocs]

SOME BASIC INFO ON TRAINER PINK:

— 25 years old

— Born in Kanto, but grew up in Galar

— Former Champion of Kanto (Lance had defeated her and had taken her place)

— Runs her own fashion boutique shop (located in Wyndon in Galar) and has established several other boutiques in other regions

— Spent most of her teenage years in Ballonlea, with Opal taking her under her wing; practiced her talents with sewing and designing clothing

— Was the one who designed the current Fairy-type gym uniform

— Partner Pokémon is Clefairy (she doesn’t battle but is some sort of “emotional support Pokémon”, as Pink calls it); mascot of the fashion boutique

— MAIN Pokémon team: Snorlax (male), Clefable (female), Sylveon (female), Gardevoir (female), Alolan Ninetales (female, shiny), and Galarian Rapidash (male)

— Mainly specializes in Fairy-type Pokémon; like some particular Psychic and Ghost-type trainers, she has a rare special connection with Fairy types

— Closest friends are Klara, Raihan, Red, Blue, Lance, and N

— Love interest is Leon :))

[finelinefae]

flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]

synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop. 

word count: 8.6k

content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N) 

read part 2 here

my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !

. . .

Y/N had been having a terrible week.

She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.

People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.

But this week was not fun.

The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.

Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.

It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.

Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.

So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.

Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.

"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.

She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.

The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.

The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.

Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.

The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.

She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.

"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.

She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.

"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.

He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."

The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."

His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."

She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."

"M allergic to flowers." He said.

"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.

"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.

He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.

Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.

He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."

Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."

"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.

"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.

"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.

"Yes." She nods.

"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."

She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.

"That's different."

"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.

"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.

"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."

Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."

He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.

He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."

She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.

"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.

Her entire face heats at the nickname.

***

The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.

She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.

When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.

Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.

After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.

She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.

Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.

It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.

She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.

"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.

At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.

Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.

She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.

At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.

She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.

The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.

Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.

"Excuse me please," she mumbled.

"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.

She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.

The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.

"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.

"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.

"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."

"Mine is." She said.

"What?"

"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.

His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."

"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.

"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.

Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.

Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.

"Is that your new girl Styles?"

"Nice one, H."

"Have fun Styles."

"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.

"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.

"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.

She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.

"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.

Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.

"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."

Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"

"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."

She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.

"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.

"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.

"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.

It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.

He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.

"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.

He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.

Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.

"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.

"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."

"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.

***

Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.

She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.

She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.

When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.

She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.

Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.

Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.

An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.

In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.

Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.

"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"

"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.

The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."

Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."

"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"

"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.

Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.

She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.

He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.

"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.

"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."

The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"

"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"

"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.

"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."

"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"

"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.

"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.

"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"

"He swore at me,"

"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."

"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.

"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."

"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."

"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.

"Wait, what? No."

"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."

"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.

"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."

Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.

All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."

"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.

The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.

"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.

"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.

Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.

"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.

He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."

"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."

"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.

"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.

"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.

"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."

"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.

"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.

"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.

"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.

She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.

"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.

"A-Are you sure?" 

"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night. 

It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall. 

"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman. 

"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her. 

"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.

"Mhm," He hummed. 

"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms. 

"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked. 

"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly. 

He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy." 

Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.

"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.

"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'" 

"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm. 

"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.

Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck.  Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals. 

"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear. 

"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry. 

"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.

She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did. 

"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."

"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her. 

"What?" He furrows his eyebrows. 

"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."

"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.

"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.

"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"

"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."

"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.

"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.

Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does. 

Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her. 

With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.

"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying. 

"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.

"Why?" She can't help but ask.

He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is." 

She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?" 

Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."

. . .

Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door. 

An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box. 

"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching. 

As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.

The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened. 

Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair. 

"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.

"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"

She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.

He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else. 

When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.

His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine. 

"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.

"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?" 

Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss. 

He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.

"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered. 

She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed. 

"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"

She nods without even thinking about it, "Please," 

He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"

She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything." 

His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."

"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck. 

Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck. 

That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket. 

She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin. 

Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon. 

She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now. 

Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots. 

The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.

Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.

Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her. 

Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange. 

Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower," 

"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed. 

"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"

Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"

He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."

"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.

He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck. 

After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"

Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.

Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?" 

Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"

She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him. 

Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"

"A little," She huffed. 

"You're too cute." 

Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.

"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips. 

"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt. 

Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"

"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing. 

"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.

"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface. 

"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."

She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"

"Been intimate with someone." 

She smiled. 

She really, really liked him.

. . .

For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things. 

Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.

When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning. 

In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him. 

Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard. 

"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat. 

She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. 

Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.

"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly. 

"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom. 

Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.

Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it. 

With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth. 

It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her. 

Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve. 

His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.

Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"

Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush." 

"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something. 

"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly. 

Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 

"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.

Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."

Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?" 

She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes. 

"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh. 

"Yes daddy," She murmurs. 

Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave.  Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.

"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen." 

"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.

"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty." 

"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants. 

"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.

Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers. 

Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."

Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.

"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it. 

"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb. 

"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful. 

"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole. 

"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck. 

"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut. 

Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?" 

"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-" 

"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand." 

At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.

She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.

"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises. 

Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.

"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers. 

Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."

"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting." 

"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.

"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.

"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"

"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired." 

"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest. 

"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily. 

"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.

psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room

[hoonieyun]

this is what that fucker wants!

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader x park sunghoon warnings: mentions of death and murder, violent threats, yn gets attacked, profanity, overall adult themes, 18+ ignore timestamps and possible typos lol a portion of this chapter is written so please be sure to read the written portion so the story makes sense!

wc: 1713

breakfast with jake was nice, it gave you a sense of normalcy and for once everything felt normal. or as normal as things could be. usually whenever you and jake would hang out, intak was also there. it was the classic trope of older siblings taking their younger sibling everywhere just because it was the duty of an older sibling to look after their younger one. 

your mind drifts off to intak as you drive to the mechanic and how you haven’t even had the chance to see him yet since they’ve found his body. the police station denied you access to do so because he was a part of an on-going investigation and there was still logitistical things that needed to be done before they let you see him. 

fucking ridiculous. he was your brother and for practically all your life, you only had each other. you had your parents growing up but after your dad was sent to prison for a murder that you believe he didn’t commit and was framed for; your mom became as absent as he was. 

she threw herself into the family business, constantly flying around the world for deals and partnerships in the name of “making money for the family” but all you and your brother wanted was your mom to comfort the two of you with a hug and tell you guys that everything would be alright. you haven’t received a hug from your mother in almost 10 years and you thought that maybe with intak’s passing, it would give the opportunity for you and your mother to rebuild that relationship you once had but she was too busy with the family business to even fly to come see her daughter and her dead son. 

you scoffed at the idea of your neglectful mother as you pulled into the mechanic shop, not having the energy to talk with any of the workers but because you needed your car to work properly, you mustered up whatever energy you had to tell them what was wrong. 

the guy with oil stains on her jumpsuit and tools hanging off his belt gave you a quote and an estimate on when it would be ready for pick up and since you had time to kill you decided you’d check out the area the car shop was in. you passed by several shops and things as you drove into the parking lot so you figured you could kill time by browsing. you gave the mechanic your number to call when your car was done and although you didn’t want to because he gave you the creeps, how else were you going to be notified when your car was ready? 

🗡 

the small town that the car shop didn’t have a lot of things in the plaza. there were small boutiques that had antiques and handmade goods, a few restaurants that you hadn’t heard of, and a library that seems like it hasn’t gotten anything new since the 90s. 

nonetheless, you took your time to browse through the quaint little town, popping into different stores if it caught your eye enough. you did however check out the library even though you didn’t think you’d find anything interesting. you mainly just needed to charge your phone and you figured you could find somewhere to plug your phone in the library without having to purchase something. 

you gave the librarian a smile and nod as you entered and she barely paid you any mind, probably because of her vision. you noticed that the glasses she was wearing had the thickest lense you’ve ever seen. the library was quite small and just like you assumed, it was fairly old. there were outdated computers, dust that was probably older than you, and it smelled faintly of moth balls. after finding a spot somewhere in the back of the library, you plugged your phone into an outlet and decided that you’d just wait here until you received a call from the mechanic that your car was ready. 

it was saturday and although you wished you had something better to do, you were content with taking it easy as you went over the documents in your email about intak’s death. you’ve been in contact with a funeral coordinator and were responding to some of his questions. it was going to cost a lot of money and you were once thankful for your mother who worked endlessly so that you and your brother never had to worry about finances. hence, why she was never around. 

you had sent her several texts since you last called her and you’ve only received one word responses. it angered you to see that your own mother barely cared about her own son’s passing but it made sense since she was barely around, it didn’t even seem like she had any kids. 

it was barely 10am when you got to the library and you were trying your best to keep your eyes open but it was getting harder and harder as you couldn’t find anything interesting to occupy your mind as you waited. your eyes began to grow heavy and a yawn escapes from your mouth, you blink a few times and shake your head to fight off the drowsiness but in just a few minutes you find your slowly falling to the side and your eyes fluttering shut. 

🗡 

the library was very quiet, as a library should be, but not the type of quiet because it was filled with people focused on their tasks like reading books or browsing on the old computers. it was the type of quiet that felt eary. like there was a stillness in the room that was caused by an unfamiliar emotion that causes people to freeze. 

only thing was, there wasn’t anyone else in the library besides you, the old lady at the front desk, and a looming figure shrouded in darkness; making its way to your sleeping figure in the corner of the library. it weaves and slithers through the various shelves of books, trying its best to go unnoticed by the old lady; which wasn’t hard since her vision only went past a few feet in front of her. 

the library is silent aside from the clock ticking in the corner of the room and the sounds of the librarian flipping the page of the romance novel she was reading, unknown to her the danger that creeped around the corners and shadows of the library. 

your phone was constantly buzzing with notifications from your friends, several texts that won’t be looked at until a lot later and as the hooded figure got closer to you, it pulled out a blade that reflected the light from the sun beaming into the window behind your sleeping figure. in a one and a thousand chance, the light just so happens to shine across the librarian’s eyes, causing her to look up and with her strained vision, she’s able to spot the hooded figure raising its arm just before the knife swipes at you. 

she shouts loudly, causing it to turn around and look in her direction while you’re jolted awake. confused at the sudden commotion, you’re taken out of your sleepy daze when you see the figure standing above you, a knife in its hand. when it turns its head back towards you, it’s met with a driving force as you kick it in the stomach, causing it to stumble backwards; giving you enough time to grab your phone and bag and run over to the librarian who was already calling the police. 

the two of you run out of the library and escape the danger. you don’t see the attacker run after the both of you. “are you okay, dear?” the old lady asks and you nod, trying to catch your breath as you ask her the same. the police are suddenly arriving and you were grateful that this town was so small because it prompted the cops to arrive in a timely manner. you and the librarian were questioned as several cops made their way inside of the library, only to find it empty. 

they had even checked the back room of the library and every area that the attacker could be hiding; and nothing. you were starting to grow less angry and more fearful. angry that this person took your best friend and little brother, but afraid that you would be next. 

had you not saved danielle that night she would’ve been next. 

had you not woken up because of the librarian, you would’ve been next. 

the cops let you go just as you’re receiving a call who you assumed to be the mechanic. you bid the old lady farewell with a small hug as the cops are driving away and when you answer the call, a raspy and ominous voice answers you. 

“hello?” you ask and for a moment it’s silent. 

“close one that was, huh? you’re a tricky one aren’t you?” the voice speaks and it sends shivers down your spine. you try to look around and call for help but the cops are long gone and there seemed to be no one else on the street. 

“what the fuck do you want?” you bite back and the voice just chuckles. “you’ll know soon enough.” it responds and the call just ends without further explanation. 

you couldn’t possibly wrap your head around what they could’ve meant by it but it struck fear inside of your nonetheless. 

as you begin your walk back to the carshop, your phone rings once again and the unknown called ID, stops you in your tracks once again. 

“look motherfucker, if you don’t leave me alone i will call the cops.” you spit into the phone and you’re met with the voice of a regular man. 

“um.. maam; your car is ready for pickup…” he responds slowly and you apologize profusely for throwing profanities at the man who was just calling you about your car. you end the call and roll your eyes in shame at the awkward interaction that would soon arrive when you had to pick up your car and how you were going to have to explain all of this to your friends later. 

back - masterlist - next

detectives notes: yn, brother of victim intak and best friend of victim wonyoung was attacked two towns over at moonstruck library. attacker escaped, no casualties or deaths. investigation is on-going.

tags: @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

@wildtigerlili @mydearyeseo @hoonielvv @leehsngs @immelissaaa @skyearby @shuichi-sama @herrymxxnie @notab1tchwho @minfolio @theothernads

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: Years pass in a steady rhythm of the usual tasks—repairing fences, tending the garden, and surviving in solitude. Life is quiet and predictable, yet heavy with the absence of the people who once made the town feel alive.

present tense, since we are now in present day

The sun beats down, relentless and heavy, as you crouch by the south fence. Sweat drips down your temple, pooling at the collar of your shirt before soaking into the fabric. The fence is a mess again, a sagging stretch of wire that looks like it’s been held together by sheer stubbornness alone.

You mutter under your breath, wedging the pliers into the rusted wire and pulling hard. The metal groans in protest, the tension vibrating through your arms as you strain to pull it taut.

“Come on,” you growl, planting your boot against the post for leverage. With one last yank, the wire snaps into place, and you sag back onto your heels, panting.

The southern fence is always trouble, a constant thorn in your side no matter how many times you reinforce it. You’ve fixed it so many times, you could probably do it blindfolded by now. But it’s necessary. It’s what keeps the town secure, what keeps the infected—and worse—from wandering too close.

You swipe your arm across your brow, leaving a streak of dirt in your wake. The air is thick with the smell of sunbaked earth and rusted metal, the heat rising in shimmering waves off the ground. A faint breeze stirs the grass, offering momentary relief from the oppressive warmth.

Standing, you stretch out your back, wincing as your muscles protest. You survey your work, the repaired section of fence gleaming faintly in the sunlight. It’s not perfect, but it will hold. For now.

The town of Lincoln, though it's been a long time since you've called it that, sprawls out behind you, quiet and still except for the occasional creak of an old shutter in the breeze and the hum of the generators. It’s been years since the place felt alive. Sure, the traps sometimes catch stray infected, but other than that, it’s just you. Alone.

You tell yourself you like it this way. No complications, no surprises. Just tasks to complete and days to get through. Food to grow, fences to fix, supplies to scavenge. It keeps you busy.

The hum of the generators reaches your ears, a low, steady rhythm that underscores your life here. The quiet doesn’t bother you anymore. It’s a different kind of noise—one you can live with.

After hauling the tools back to the shed and washing the dirt from your hands, you find yourself standing by the graves. The two mounds are covered in years of grass, marked with wooden crosses weathered by rain and sun. You carved their names into the wood yourself, the letters rough and uneven. The task had taken you days.

The first few months after they were gone, you came here every day. The visits have started to space out over the years, though you still find yourself here more often than you’d like to admit.

“Fixed the fence today,” you say, breaking the silence as you set down your bow and quiver of arrows. Your voice sounds strange in the stillness, rough from disuse. “South side, of course. Always falling apart. Think I finally got it to hold this time, but who knows.”

You crouch down, brushing away the leaves that have gathered at the base of the markers. The damp earth smells rich and sharp, clinging to your fingertips.

“One of the chickens got out the other day, but I managed to track her down just outside the boutique. Little thing was so proud of herself, I bet.” You chuckle. “Oh, and I got the artichokes to grow. Took forever, though. Greedy little bastards. They take up so much space, but damn, they’re good.”

You let out a faint laugh, though it catches in your throat. “Finally gonna roast some tonight. Thought about trying one of your recipes, but…”

Your words trail off as a lump forms in your throat, heavy and unrelenting. You stare at the cross with Frank’s name etched into it, your hands curling into fists.

“I’ll figure it out,” you mutter after a moment, though the words feel thin.

Your fingers idly pick at the hem of your jacket as you sit back on your heels. “Haven’t heard from Tess or Joel in a while. Radio’s been quiet. Don’t know what that means. Boston’s probably gone by now.”

The weight of that truth settles on your chest. You stare at the graves for a long moment, the silence stretching out around you.

You picture them, Frank’s warm smile as he sits on the grassy earth in front of his cross, asking how you’re doing. Your dad’s scowl might have softened, though he’d be scrutinizing every line in your face when you respond.

“I’m fine,” you say finally, your voice softer. “I’m managing. Keeping things running, keeping busy. Just like you’d want.”

The quiet presses in around you, and for a long moment, you simply sit there, your eyes fixed on the crosses. The ache in your chest is familiar now, an old companion you’ve learned to carry without complaint.

Finally, you push yourself to your feet, brushing the dirt from your hands and glancing back toward the house. The lantern by the kitchen window casts a faint glow, the warmth of it beckoning against the growing chill.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” you mutter, turning toward the path.

The house is quiet except for the occasional creak of the floorboards and the low hum of the monitors at the far end of the table. You sit with your plate in front of you, a simple meal of roasted artichokes and rabbit. The artichokes aren’t perfect—slightly bitter despite the care you put into growing them—but you eat them anyway. Waste isn’t an option.

Across from you, the flickering screens display grainy black-and-white footage from the security cameras positioned along the property. The south fence looks clean and steady, a reminder of the hours you spent earlier in the day. The northwest corner is darker, partially obscured by overgrown branches you keep meaning to cut back.

You chew slowly, your fork scraping faintly against the plate. The rabbit is gamey, but it pairs well with the artichokes. You’ll never get it to taste like your dad’s cooking, but you like to think Frank would be proud of how far you’ve come with the garden.

Reaching for the glass at your side, you take a sip of water, your eyes drifting to the monitor showing the front gate. Nothing. Just the same empty road you’ve seen for years. It’s not comforting, exactly, but it’s not unsettling either. Just the way things are.

When your plate is clean, you stand and carry it to the sink, rinsing it under the warm tap. The smell of roasted vegetables still lingers in the air as you wipe down the counter, setting everything back in its proper place.

When you step into your room that night, the warm glow from the hallway spills across the wooden floor, catching on the edge of the envelope sitting on your dresser. The paper is slightly yellowed now, the edges curling from the years it’s spent untouched. Your name is written in bold, messy letters—your dad’s handwriting.

You pause, your hand brushing against the edge of the dresser as your eyes linger on the envelope. It’s been there for so long, a fixture in a room where everything else has been tidied, repaired, or replaced. You’d considered opening it once, in the early days, but the thought of what might be inside had kept your fingers still.

You exhale through your nose and turn away, pulling back the covers on the bed. The mattress gives a soft creak under your weight as you sit down, pulling off your boots and setting them neatly beside the nightstand. The faint hum of the generator carries through the walls, a reminder of the world you’ve kept running.

The envelope stays where it’s always been, untouched on the dresser as you climb under the blankets and reach for the lamp. The bold, uneven letters of your name burn in your retinas as darkness swallows the room.

[meazalykov]

baby pink

sydney lohmann x reader

apart of the baby pink series

after winning against aston villa, your excitement couldn’t be contained. 

as a center-back defender, scoring a golozo at arsenal had your team and the crowd blown in joy. 

winning mvp for the match made you feel appreciated as well. this is your third season at arsenal and you've gotten this quite a lot, but your gratitude still shows.

as you're heading into the locker rooms, you look down at the pastel pink and baby blue kit over your body, the colors making you smile. baby pink and baby blue were your two favorite colors. so, having a kit in those colors– made exclusively for the women’s team too– made you happy. 

after tonight, you’ll fly to germany  to visit your girlfriend sydney lohmann, who plays at bayern munich. your three-year anniversary was coming up and nothing could ruin your happy mood about it, not even the yellow card you received in the match. 

after the match, exhausted but happy from the win, you scroll through the photos taken during the game by arsenal’s photographers. usually, they will send the photos in a big digital file. 

one photo in the pink and blue kit made you look like a star. you were– but you wanted to post and highlight that picture immediately. 

(pretend that you're in the picture in replacement of emily fox)

y/n.l/n

liked by leahwilliamsonn, and 67,712 others

y/n.l/n the love of my life (this kit) 🩵🩷

comments

sydneylohmann so what am I.. chopped liver?

stanwaygeorgia HAHHAHA

laurafreigang ya

wosofan783 sydney you're still the love of my life dw ☺️

sydneylohmann I will ignore that caption

laurafreigang wow sydney turned into a football kit?

buehlklara yes.

gunnerwillamso32927 nobody is ruining y/n's love for pink

woso.com THE CAPTION BYE

fcbfrauenluvrr come to Munich ❤️

~view all 3,901 comments~

you giggled at all of the comments between you, your german friends, and your girlfriend. you miss sydney all of the time and can't wait to be with her.

there is a flower boutique down the street from your apartment, almost every week you'll receive a delivery of a bouquet of flowers. all from sydney-- and all pink.

sydney leaves the sweetest notes all of the time. you're grateful that your girlfriend makes an effort to show you how much she loves you from thousands of miles away.

you're enjoying the rest of your time at arsenal, since this is your last season. all of your fans don't know it yet, but some are suspecting that you'll join sydney in munich next year-- since there is no updates on a contract renewal with arsenal.

the next morning, you woke up to a knock at your door.

you groaned as you quickly rubbed your eyes and put your pink slippers on. walking out of the bedroom, you walked into the hallway into your living room to open up the front door.

the first guess of who could be at your door was caitlin and katie, who lived in the same apartment complex as you. sometimes, they come and eat breakfast with you because of how lonely you can get.

sometimes it feels like everyone on the team has a companion or partner, which leaves you feeling left out sometimes. luckily, you won't have to feel fomo for much longer with bayern's offer for you to join their club. thanks to references from sydney and georgia.

"hey cai-" your voice cut off when you saw a familiar face at the door.

a woman, early to mid 40s, named josie worked down at the flower boutique down from your apartment complex. she is a face you see every week at your door-- holding a huge pink bouquet.

"goodmorning josie." you smile as you, softly, take the bouquet of flowers out of her hands.

your hair was messy, considering that you gotten out of bed. however, josie has seen you looking worse during mornings where you're sick or tired from games the nights before.

"goodmorning, sydney got these for you." Josie smiled.

"yeah-- these are beautiful *sniff* and smell great too." you took a smell of the flowers. sydney got you pink flowers all of the time, just as you sent her red bouquets to her house in munich, but she changes the flowers up.

josie nodded and smiled at your observation of the flowers.

"i'm going to the airport soon to see her too-- so I'm surprised she sent me these." you commented.

"you shouldn't be-- its tuesday. have safe travels." josie says, smiling before walking away from your door.

sydney did send you your flowers every tuesday, which josie is right about.

you placed the flowers inside of a pink vase before pulling out the note card in the middle of the flowers.

"can't wait to see you later, honigbiene

-syd <3"

<3

[jiminrings]

478 phase 3 part two (sneak peeks!! :D)

sneak peek 01

You have the terrifying idea in the back of your head, locked and loaded for anyone (read: Jungkook) to see if they take the additional second to ask you, that you’ll have to suffer all over again; that you’ll have to establish an ultimatum with a time limit of sorts, just so you can nullify the vacancy in you by pushing Jungkook away again.

Even now, a part of you wonders about Sora. 

She’s no longer a part of your husband’s life, for good this time, yet she occupies your mind every once in a while as if she’s a bad meal on a bad day you have to stomach over and over again. You want to vomit her out completely and rid yourself of the taste of being inferior to who came before you, and yet, she lingers like a stray who knows its home.

You wonder if she’s happy with her life and how it turned out, even if Jungkook’s no longer in it despite being each other’s first for everything. You wonder if she ever thinks about Jungkook whenever it’s April 23 or when she walks past tent bars; if she’s ever married now and has a family like you and her first love do.

You wonder about Sora from time to time because if Jungkook really loved her, you fear that a little bit of it would always linger.

In the same way that you had really loved a multitude of things growing up, little bits of them would always linger even if you’ve sworn off them. 

Your old obsession with tiny bottles of perfume you could only buy from boutiques (and never from malls) resurfaces whenever you visit your parents and magically, they always have a box filled up with your childhood shirts they’ve spared for Hwayoung to wear, imbued with a scent you can place to a memory, but not replicate.

The old fixation you had on patchwork blankets lingers whenever you head to the stockroom to store a PR package you could justify keeping for future purposes, only to see the unopened stacks of shirts you’ve gotten from numerous workshops, countries, and tapings as mementos throughout the years. They sit there in the dust, waiting patiently for you to take notice, but you avert your eyes as to not start a project you can’t bring yourself to finish.

The old liking you had towards the color orange stains on your fingers whenever you peel tangerines for Hwayoung, training a keen eye on her as she holds it for herself while slicing the portions you have at hand for her to eat safely. 

You wonder about Sora and if she ever holds the regret of letting go of Jungkook for someone like you.

You wonder if Jungkook’s love for her, although dissolved and voided already, lingers through the existence of Eunsu — someone who’s much, much different than you, just like Sora was.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy and you stand by it, because holding Hwayoung while carrying the backpack that’s meant to sustain the both of you in a foreign country, just because you don’t want any excess baggage as you surprise Jungkook out of nowhere, has never felt lighter in your heart.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy, even if you wonder why the door to Jungkook’s hotel room is open by itself without needing a key.

Love is not supposed to feel heavy, even if you meet several pairs of eyes that either locks or avoids your own, all for a multitude of reasons. 

“Jungkook,” you whisper, pupils shaking as you instinctively turn Hwayoung’s head away from the sight before you. “What’s going on?”

.

.

.

sneak peek 02

You know it’s going to come eventually.

You know the telltale dread that fills you up when something far bigger and beyond you is on its path to overtake you. The articles, the scrutiny, and the discourses haven’t even entered the stage yet you already feel sick because this time, it’s not only your name that’s going to be dragged into a situation you never thought would happen.

It’s also your daughter’s.

“We need to talk about Hwayoung,” you approach Jungkook as soon as you come home after your overtime, stilling in your tracks when you see Hwayoung sleeping in her pen.

Jungkook’s eyes linger on her before looking at you properly this time, the knot on his throat loosening at the prospect of what’s been bothering his mind repeatedly, but with the promise of a solution that he hasn’t arrived at, yet is bound to hurt him nonetheless.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

You sit on the far end of the baby blue floor couch as if you and Jungkook don’t share a home together.

“We look okay to her now but still,” you pause, looking down on your feet that are bruising from the heels you’ve been filming with all day and night. “I don’t want to put her in the middle of… everything that thisis.”

Jungkook nods, not only because he understands, but because he’s aware of everything, all the way from the guilt of being a husband to the guilt of being a dad. 

“She’s bound to ask questions too, and even if she’s not asking them now, I feel bad having to keep her in the dark.”

“She’s still young, Jungkook. I never thought I’d say this, but I mean,” you sigh, shrugging defeatedly as you try to look for the right words. “If we keep including her in situations that she shouldn’t be a part of, we’re only bringing her closer to harm. For all we know, someone somewhere has a picture of her during the trip.”

“I-I tried my best. I moved as fast as I-…”

“I know. I also tried my best when we took the trip to you,” you exhale heavily, trying to wrap your head around the complexity of the past week alone; you can’t even understand why you pushed yourself to go back to work immediately after going back home. “I’m not saying that Hwayoung’s known already. I’m just considering the possibility because we could never be too sure.”

Jungkook knows you’re trying to get rid of the guilt that forms in him for that matter, but for everything else, he knows better than to assume of you.

“Do you…” he swallows. “Do you also think that Hwayoung needs a breather from us? Not the other way around, of course, but you know-…”

“I know what you mean,” you nod your head, the guilt of being a mom to a Hwayoung coming easily these days. “It’ll be good for her to be around other people. To be away from what we have going on.”

You and Jungkook share a guilt that’s only unique to having Hwayoung under your circumstances, and it’s a burden you want to get rid of without ever hurting her in the process.

“We can’t have my parents babysit. They read me easily and I don’t want them to know,” you confide, making your husband hang his head in shame even if it wasn’t your intention.

“My parents can’t either. They went on a cruise.”

“I don’t trust nannies,” you add, making Jungkook nod deliberately.

“Who can we trust then?” he sighs, rubbing his hand all over his face as he tries to scour his brain for people. “Who do we have in our lives that Hwayoung trusts too?”

Your head tilts after a few seconds in realization, and Jungkook’s mind drifts to his daughter’s godfather whether he likes it or not.

You and your husband have the same idea in mind, with one being less fond of it than the other.

“I’ll call Yoongi.”

.

.

.

dun dun DUNNNNNN :O wanna read chapter two + intermission 02, get early access to the finale when it drops, and read hundredssss of exclusive works?? u can head to my patreon :D !!!

also to get ahead of questions: chapter two, intermission 02, and the finale WILL also be up on tumblr!!! it's just that patreon citizens get early access to general fics (aka fics like 478 that are both posted on tumblr and patreon) + exclusive pieces :-)

++ if you're wondering about the posting schedule here on tumblr, i do it with a lag!! as soon as i post the finale on patreon, i'll be posting part two here ☝️🤓

[deeranon]

Whatever You Wish

Twisted Wonderland X Furina |

Summary: After Leona’s overblot, he is still avoidant of his family yet not as much as before. Perhaps he is willing to extend his perception of the word “family”.

Leona did not care for shopping. Shopping was Ruggie’s job. It was supposed to be, at least. 

How did he find himself in the town at the bottom of the mountain? It’s simple: Ruggie was slacking off somewhere(he was working a shift at the Mostro Lounge). And Leona didn’t have time nor the patience to wait for the foolish hyena. 

Why not just go to Sam’s store, then? A stupid question. If Leona was caught buying what he needed, he’d never hear the end of it from other students who clearly wanted a pummeling. Not that he really cared, but I’d be a thorn in his side. 

Leona was buying gifts for his family in Sunset Savannah. Not out of kindness, no—and ew. 

He had promised to come visit during a break, but was a no show once again. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it was just Farena and Cheka, but Farena’s wife knew of the supposed-to-be visit as well. Leona didn’t feel like getting on the Queen’s bad side, not to mention she was a warrior of Sunset Savanna. 

Luckily Leona was always one step ahead, making the excuse of a Magift game being on the same day he was supposed to set off from the Dark Mirror. His family couldn’t argue against him being there for his team during a game. The gifts Leona planned to send were merely a formality: a way to sweeten the deal. 

The townspeople at the bottom of the mountain crowded the streets, filling the cold air with such laughter and joy that Leona almost wanted to rip off his ears. 

With only two more shops to go, and Leona’s good mood dead and buried twenty feet under, the man almost didn’t notice the fluff of unnatural white hair amidst the crowd of people on the other side of the street. But he did. 

Standing before a shop window was Furina. Her tussled snow white hair streaked with baby blue was impossible to miss even in the largest seas of people. Her clothes were mundane compared to her natural beauty, they were monochromatic and boring—not to mention overly large. Vil was sure to have a fit if he ever saw Furina wearing the gaudy pieces of clothing, Leona surmised with a smirk. 

The woman held multiple bags in her hands. Leona noted that many were from the grocery stores in town, a select few had clothing brand names on their bags. Furina stood beside a window for only a few seconds, head barely tilted enough to stare inside. Then, she continued on her way, pace quicker than needed. 

When Furina was out of sight, Leona walked across the bustling street and sauntered up to the display to see just what the Ramshackle resident had been staring at. What he saw confused him. 

A mannequin the size of a young adult was adorned with a plain wig, the hair covered in a rainbow of plastic ornaments and accessories. It wore a gentle white sundress that reached just below the knees and hugged the waist with a pearl colored ribbon tied into a bow at the back. The outfit was what Furina had to have been staring at, with rolls of imported silk fabric the only other thing on display, it wasn’t very hard to figure out. Looking up at the sign gave Leona all the information he needed. It was a boutique catered towards the younger generation and tourists. The prices were nothing to Leona, but they were the kind that Ruggie was sure to complain about more than he usually would. 

Leona knew that Furina was practically on her own in Ramshackle, no other dorm members or people to watch out for her. She was strong in that regard. Self sufficient and incredibly smart. Otherwise Furina wouldn’t have outsmarted him before his overblot. Leona respected her for it. Though he would never admit the truth out loud. 

Leona still remembered how Furina had taken control during the overblot. Vivid memories paired with the remembrance from the harsh sting of his cheek when she slapped him. Leona’s cheek had remained bruised for two entire weeks afterwards.

The day Leona met her in the garden, he didn’t think Furina was the type to not indulge herself when she wanted something. 

Perhaps other views of her were only shallow at best. 

Furina was long gone by the time Leona pushed away the familiar thoughts and walked away from the tourist trap to Rouge, a store brimming with makeup and homemade jewelry. Some pompous Pomefiore students had been going on and on about it after school while working on their science club experiment. Leona just so happened to overhear. Maybe he could find decent apology gifts that didn’t scream ‘I tried too hard, I’m insincere’ or ‘I didn’t try at all, sucks to be you’ in there. 

With thoughts of his own past buried to deal with later, Leona opened the glass door and stepped inside the store. Bell singing gently as it closed. The shop, actually the first floor of the owner’s house, expanded into a decently sized wooden floored living room refurbished to fit rows of glass boxes filled with exquisite gem encrusted items on shelves. Polished wood tables held racks of mascara and a plethora of lipstick in so many colors Leona’s head hurt. The cashier, a child of the shop owner, greeted him with a minimal effort “welcome” before turning back to their book. 

Leona lazily browsed the selection of warm colored lipsticks, walking at a snail’s pace as his mind attempted to comprehend the names of each red lipstick that looked exactly the same as the last. He was in no rush to grab something and leave, half-pleased at the thought of his dorm members losing their minds over the disappearance of their dorm leader on a weekend. 

Finding nothing of particular interest with the lipstick he had picked up, it’s color dubbed “eternally young” according to the sticker taped to the table, Leona started for the eyeliner section on a different table when a light caught his attention from the corner of his eye. 

Leona turned to the source with the barest hint of interest. It was a set of gem inlaid hair accessories paired with two hair combs, all arranged in a plush black velvet box under the light of a window. Walking closer, Leona saw the laminated note explaining what was within the protective box and promptly ignored it. 

Seven rose gold hair accessories held flowers crafted from pink tourmaline in their grasp, proudly shining in the sunlight like contented house cats. 

Pearls shaped into teardrops hung from two rosy metal hair sticks shaped into sakura blossom branches in perfect bloom, rose chains weaving around the black velvet folds. 

Three large tourmaline flower clips laid next to the sticks, white beads attached to golden wire shaped to imitate leaves. The three clips all had different flowers carved out. The first was a branch of the iconic sakura flower almost identical to the hair picks. The second a mix of small but intricate delphinium and lavender made of a gentle purple tourmaline swaying in an imaginary breeze. The third an imitation of freesia dotted with webs of small opal beads with the occasional yarrow flower.  

Then, there was the rosy colored bobby pin with a single lily flower attached by four small claws between the petals. 

Finally, there was the hair chain. It wasn’t decorated with flower shaped gems like the other items, only a branch of leaves on each clip with a singular tear shaped tourmaline hanging between the chains. 

Along with the accessories came two wooden combs made from dark oak, one a wide-tooth while the other was a rake. Both had painted golden vines creeping along the handles, coiling like snakes steadily choking their prey. They were nowhere near as extravagant as the hair pieces, yet they were just as useful. 

The items all came in a set, and the note went on and on in a monologue about the sentimental value as the maker carved the brushes and assembled the clips, then imbuing the accessories with a protective charm that would keep them from breaking or being too heavy. Leona skipped through it all until he found the price tag at the bottom on a smaller sticker. 

10,894.99 

It was dirt cheap. 

After mulling over whether the accessories would seem sincere enough, Leona shrugged and called the cashier over. The person seemed surprised at actually being needed, jumping in place before looking down mournfully at their book before stepping away with a set of keys in hand. Leona walked back as they sorted through the keys one by one at a sloth’s pace. 

“Gettin’ these for a lover?” 

A voice broke the silence, making Leona internally groan. It was the cashier, fishing for small talk. This could not be any worse. 

“Sister in law, actually.” They hummed faintly at the response, returning focus to their endeavor of finding the right key. 

“Hmm. Then it wouldn’t hurt to tell you that the set is actually made for two people. Cuz’ of the two brushes,” Leona couldn’t care less. “Some of the accessories are for someone with long hair, the others made specifically for a short haired person.” Yes, Leona knew how accessories worked, please stop talking. 

“If ya plan to buy all of it, you might want to save some for a later date—or a different person. Ya have any other sisters? Older, younger? You could give ‘em to her.” 

That made Leona pause. He didn’t want to go through the hassle of splitting the uneven amount of accessories into ‘buy’ or ‘don’t buy’ categories, that was too much effort for something so little as this. Leona would buy the complete set, yet what would he do with the remaining accessories? They certainly weren’t his style. 

Actually, he didn’t care about what happened to the unused pieces. Ruggie would take them off his hands at some point. 

Yet the cashier’s last words rang in his head. “Any other sisters? You could give ‘em to her.” ….A younger Sister. Someone else who would use them. 

A loud click brought Leona out of his thoughts. The employee had finally found the correct key and had already started to lift the velvet box from the case. Shaking his head to clear it of strange thoughts, Leona pulled out his wallet to grab a handful of bills as they approached the counter. The cash register chirped as the cashier typed away, scanning the code at the bottom of the box and placing it in a supposed-to-be fancy looking bag before pausing to look up at Leona with a plastic smile. 

“Cash or card?” 

Instead of deeming them with an actual answer Leona said “Keep the change.” then tossed the money at the cashier, taking the bag from the counter and beelining for the front door. 

 Leona was already out the door and starting for his final stop, unable to hear or perhaps uncaring about the cashier’s cry of “Wait, you overpaid!” from inside. 

Walking down the street, Leona found himself walking past the same tourist trap Furina had been glancing at as he headed for the port market. The dress, unchanging since the last hour and a half, still stood smugly within its sill. He ignored it, taking a sharp turn to the left so that the store would be out of sight. He had a fake apology to finish. 

—

Leona would never admit it, but it brought him closure when Furina came around to visit Savanaclaw regularly. In a school full of boys, Furina had higher odds of gaining unwanted attention. Ever since his overblot, Furina occasionally tread the line of danger and reluctance to check up on him. What started out as cautious check ins steeped in distrust had turned into a weekly routine Leona almost looked forward to. Almost. 

Once or twice every other day or so, Furina wandered through the dorm mirror to spend at least an hour in Leona’s presence. The other dorm members didn’t even blink or raise complaints when she appeared, not anymore. Leona had silenced them all  

The chill of October had stretched into November, and Furina’s visits were growing more and more common. In the time they spent together, Leona learned things about Furina just as Furina learned about Leona. Chess was a common game the two played, though Leona had yet to beat her. Other times they simply soaked in each other’s presence. Each visit was random, yet the time spent together was precious in a way. 

When Furina appeared in the middle of November, gently knocking on his door in the dead of night, Leona snapped to attention. The moment Leona wrenched his door open and let her inside, she spilled everything with a smile on her face. If Leona hadn’t known Furina for so long, he would have thought she was delirious for smiling joyfully while explaining her bet against the scamming cephalopod. Fortunately, Leona knew Furina better than that. 

The smile on her face marked her fear. Furina was terrified of losing the deal. She staked not only Ramshackle, but a great deal of mora—whatever that was—and her freedom on the contract. In any other situation or if it were any other person, Leona would have called them an idiot and kicked them out after making such a deal. Not Furina, though. Never Furina. 

Furina had serious problems, always raising the stakes to a dramatic level. Leona had thought the motto “high risk high reward” described her once, yet he knew there was more to her than that. In her obsession for make it or break her deals was a deeply rooted desire to prove herself better or smarter than her opponent. A need for perfection, for total control.

A mask of faked superiority.

Leona also knew Furina was desperate to break the bad habit, to stop putting so much at risk and finally let old habits die. Yet her mouth ran with the mask before her mind could catch up. 

Perhaps that was a part of why Furina never let herself indulge in her own wants. 

Leona wasn’t good with comforting words. Never was, never will be. Watching as Furina almost imperceptibly shook, body barely containing her stress as she sat at on the edge of the wide bed with his blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Leona knew he should do something. 

Heaving a heavy breath, Leona silently stalked over to his desk scattered with hoards of jewelry. Carding through the mess, Leona opened a drawer and slid out a velvet black box. Stealthily as he could, Leona opened the box to check its contents. The hair picks along with the wide comb and sakura flower clip had been mailed to the Sunset Savannah Queen along with the other gifts. The lily bobby pin was missing from the remainder of the set(thanks, Ruggie) yet Leona was more focused on the other items. Making sure they were all accounted for, Leona closed the box and quietly wandered to his closet where a large white box lay hidden. 

Inside the box was a dress. The one with the silver bow and the same color as Furina’s short snowy hair. 

Taking the box from the closet, Leona turned to make sure Furina hadn’t seen him leave her side before tip toeing his way back to his bed. Furina was unresponsive even when the mattress dipped from Leona’s weight, too deep in thought to notice anything going on around her. 

“Oi, listen to me.” Leona called, snapping his fingers in front of Furina’s face as her eyes glazed over and her mind ate itself with regret. “You gotta snap out of it.”

Furina recoiled slightly at the sudden sight of Leona’s hand before her face, blinking repeatedly as her trance broke. Furina looked up at Leona with confusion, moth opening to question him when he pushed two boxes into her trembling hands. 

“Just open them, would you?” He interrupted, poking a single finger against her forehead. Furina paused, brain slowly calming as she registered Leona’s touch. Nodding absently, Furina looked down at the two boxes with thinly veiled curiosity. 

As if she were handling a fragile porcelain teacup, Furina gently opened the long black box. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the contents inside. Two expensive looking hair charms along with a thick comb and almost necklace-like chain and leaf accessory sat inside the plush velvet box. They all shone with a proud glimmer underneath the moonlight, looking more expensive than what Furina would ever allow herself to own with her minimalistic budget. 

Furina’s hands, blue as both the midnight and morning sky, shook for an entirely different reason than fear as she opened the second box. 

It was the dress Furina had wanted from the store in town last week. Folded perfectly to fit in the box, the dress felt unreal even as Furina reached out to pick it up, azure and pale blue thumbs feeling the soft fabric of the long moon white sleeves shift underneath her touch. 

“I-I don’t understand.” Furina stumbled, eyes filling with tears. She didn’t understand why Leona would give her such beautiful things, especially after what she has done. 

“What’s there to not understand? I got these for you because you don’t have to put up a mask around me,” Leona reached out, taking a flower clip and catching the hair blocking Furina’s right eye before he locked it in place above her ear. “Whatever you desire, you can get. No one is watching you here. You’re safe, Furina.” Thinking for only a moment, Leona tilted forward, resting his chin against the crown of her tangled hair in what was possibly the most intimate act he had ever initiated. 

Furina stared up at him, eyes wide from shock as she processed his words. Tears started to fall from her eyes in a steady river. Leona shifted the boxes away from Furina’s lap as her once contained shaking broke loose, entire body quaking as she cried into Leona’s chest. Her hands gripped at his clothes, wrinkling the expensive fabric and dampening it with her tears, yet he didn’t care. Leona’s toned arms wrapped around Furina’s shoulders in a protective hold, keeping her safe in his arms as he closed his eyes listened to her weep. 

Leona was bad at comforting others, so perhaps silence was the best medicine. 

—

Yarrow- healing and love 

Freesia-innocence and friendship 

Delphinium-new life

Lavender- calm, purity, devotion 

Sakura-life, death, renewal 

Pink Lily-admiration

Saltwater Pearl-purity, wisdom, enduring elegance, often associated with the moon

Opal-good luck,an October birth stone 

Pink tourmaline-love, compassion, an October birth stone 

-

@idkfitememate here’s the birthday special! Also no, I can’t write anything without sprinkling angst in.

[chimchiri]

Poll Adventure: Rarijack Dinner

Index | [prev] - Part 04 - [next] Special thanks to @babydarkstar for putting out the great writing

Previous Poll:

~~~

“What did you have in mind?”

“Orchard’s a bit of a wreck this time of year,” AJ says, glancing out the window at the apple trees lining the hills and hanging heavy with fruit. Not too far off, Big Mac’s standing on a ladder situated under a tree; she can see Apple Bloom yelling up at him from below, barrels full of apples at her feet. She says something with that adorable, sometimes annoying little smug spark in her eye, and Big Mac shakes his head with a laugh before tossing an apple down to her. She lunges for it with her hands clasped behind her back, letting it smack her right in the face as she tries to grab it with the few front teeth she hasn’t lost to the tooth fairy yet.

Yeah. Definitely somewhere else. AJ loves her family more than anything, but—Rarity deserves to go somewhere nice. Across the house and through the open front door, she can hear Granny belting out an old song about pigs in mud—

“I’m thinkin’ we go out. You know the restaurant in town? Haven’t been in a while, and I heard there’s a new menu. How’s Saturday?”

“That sounds simply divine, darling, and I would love to…but I can’t commit to this weekend,” Rarity says regretfully, and AJ nearly drops her phone, “I’m in Manehattan the rest of the week for my new line. It is critical that I’m here to make the finishing touches. Fancy Pants is personally endorsing the reveal and there cannot be a single mishap, not one.”

“Oh—“

“Please don’t think I’m avoiding you, darling. Perhaps we can schedule something for the same time next week?”

“No!” AJ begins rather forcefully, and she clears her throat so she won’t say something else before thinking, “I meant…no big deal. How about I come to you instead? I’m sure I can find somewhere good for you—for…us.” 

There’s a short pause before Rarity responds. 

“Applejack, are you sure, darling? Of course I’d love to have you here…but only if it wouldn’t be too much for you. If you aren’t busy with your duties on the farm, as well. I know that the big city isn’t exactly your cup of…cider.”

“Nothin’s too much for me when it comes to you, sugar.” 

AJ’s heart flutters when she hears the soft, breathy laughter of her crush over the phone.

“If you insist,” Rarity says, the smile evident in her voice, “There are a few places I could call. I’m friends with practically everyone here, you know.” 

AJ shakes her head. “You just rest up and let me do the work. I’ll get everything together.” 

This isn’t up for debate—she’s dead set on being a gentlewoman. If this is going to be a real date then she’ll make sure it’s a damn good one. Which includes making sure that Rarity can just enjoy the evening and not have to worry about anything.

Rarity lets out a sweet laugh, which pitches high at the end, a little too strained. 

“Oh, no, there will be no resting for me. After I finish this job, I need to come up with something spectacular to wear for our date. Now that we’re going out on the town, I need something divine—something fabulous…” she trails off before continuing, “But I’ll be ready. Just let me know. Oh! When will you arrive, dear? I’m not sure I can make it to the train station to greet you…I’ll be so busy…but you know where the boutique is.”

“I’ll find you. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Not to worry, darling. I doubt I could ever work nearly as hard as you do.”

AJ rubs the back of her neck, her face hot. “Psshaw, I’m not sure about that…”

The toe of her boot scuffs the wooden floor and she stares down at it, grinning like an idiot in the silence.

“Well…shall I see you Saturday, then?” Rarity posits. 

“Yeah, Saturday.”

“Alright, darling, I’ll see you then,” Rarity says softly.

“Bye Rarity.” She sounds almost shy when she says her name.

There’s a click and then the call is over. AJ swears her heart skips a beat as she stares down at her phone. This is actually happening.

It still feels like a dream, and she hopes to never wake up.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She could run a marathon with all the energy tingling up her spine.

But—

It already looks like she’s been running at full speed—she’s drenched in sweat. Well…no surprise there.

“Ugh…I should shower,” she murmurs upon noticing the stains under her arms.

~~~~

AJ thought she’d have trouble sleeping, but after finishing her chores with a spring in her step, she knocked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The next morning, however, anxiety crawled its way into her chest. 

She couldn’t stop daydreaming at breakfast, racking her brain for a restaurant in Manehattan. There were so many other things she had to do before that, too. 

AJ didn’t really consider what it’d mean to have a date in Manehattan—she was just so sold on the fact that their date couldn’t wait. 

She has some nice clothes in her closet - but do they fit a fancy restaurant in the big city? 

Does she even know how to behave so she doesn’t embarrass herself and Rarity during the date? Sure, she’s polite, but she’s not versed on the social mores of Mane—

Granny snapping her fingers and hollering her name pulled AJ from her thoughts, only to find all three family members staring at her curiously.

“Sorry, Granny…what was it you said?”

“Well, it’s been s’darn long since I asked ya, I can’t remember nuthin’ I said!” 

AJ didn’t tell anyone yet. For one, she wanted to pull it through on her own. But she also didn’t want anyone to gossip beforehand and cause her embarrassment. She got enough inquiring questions about her relationship status, especially from Applebloom.

After breakfast, she got to work on the chores around the farm.

Anyways, now that she could think again…

Would she need a present for Rarity? 

Was there anything else she needed to prepare?

What if none of the restaurants she’d thought of end up being a good fit for Rarity?

AJ’s mind spins and spins and now she lays in the shade of an apple tree, staring up at the sky.

Well, she’ll admit it—she’s lost and has no clue where to start.

Yeah, she’ll definitely need some help…

She could ask one of her friends. She’s close enough to any of them, especially Rainbow—but Rainbow can’t keep a secret to save her life, and she’d probably just tell her to “Be awesome, duh” and that Rarity likes AJ enough that she doesn’t need to be fancy. Which…is a great sentiment, but would it help in the long run? Mm…she’s not so sure. AJ feels like it wouldn’t stay a secret for long if she told any of her friends. Would she even mind? They’re all helpful in their own ways. 

Then again…she could also ask her family for support. She hopes they would keep news of her date a secret. Oof…some of those conversations might be a bit more embarrassing, now that she thinks about it...but Granny’s lived and loved, and Big Mac always gives sage advice. Applebloom is her biggest cheerleader when it comes to anything at all.

 

---

Tag List: @mrrrpmeow @babydarkstar @butwerebothmares @chaosdraconequus @chrysaliswife @gaywombat @mulan-but-gay @jubjub05 @dan-chan-rn @sanybaby @horserepository @justletmesnarkandbark

[teddypickerry]

Hi!! if you’re still doing requests would you do a loralie gilmore x fem reader one? maybe where they bond over liking metallica (sorry chris lmao) and their friendship turns into a relationship?

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍.

pairings — fem! reader x lorelai gilmore

word count — 876

warnings — literally just fluffy + flirty lorelai

a/n — first of all, never apologize to chris. secondly… WHAT UP MFS (saying that like i didn’t disappear off the face of the earth for a hot min) hope this tiny little blurb did you justice, i thought it was just cute. love you guys. thank you for messaging me + sending requests lately. you guys rock.

THE TOWN OF STARS HOLLOW was on the brink of Autumn, yet the sun was mistaking the New England town for a tropical paradise. Except the sun didn't accept the idea of paradise. Not with the continuous heat waves that had the town meetings cancelled and air conditioners blasting. Not a single long sleeve in sight despite it being the first day of September.

"This feels like a joke. This has to be a joke, right?" Lorelai Gilmore mutters as she walks down the side walk, fanning herself with her hand while trailing around in her heeled boots that felt like personal hell. Her best friend, Sookie, stood to her right wiping the bead of sweat from her forehead. "If it is, this is the cruelest joke ever."

The two regretted their walk from the Dragonfly Inn almost instantly and that thought only deepened as they walked the towns streets. Luke's seemed so far away and they were ready to give up.

"Watch out!" A voice called from the town square, as the two woman turned to see a ball coming in their direction. Lorelai moved out of the way and Sookie quickly followed, the ball nearly taking out their necks. A woman came jogging over and stopped with a quick glance at the two of them, grabbing the ball and tossing it into her arms. "Oh, sorry. That kid is not ready for soccer tryouts.”

Lorelai locked eyes with the woman who stood before her, wearing a pair of sneakers with shorts and a cut-up Metallica t-shirt. She looked like she somehow didn't break a sweat. Despite her athletic efforts. "Where did you come from, the freezer section?" Lorelai asks.

The unknown woman rubs her lips together before motioning over to the kid standing in the grass across the road. "My niece has shitty aim," She says with a quick smile.

"Well we can't all be... a… soccer player," Lorelai mutters as she realizes she doesn't know the name of a singular athletic star.

"Are you new around here?" Sookie asks the girl curiously as she searches her purse for her sunscreen. Y/N only nodded in response, "Just visiting my sister. She owns the boutique down the road."

"Oh yeah, I like going in there. It's like an episode of The Twilight Zone. I never know what's gonna happen in there," Lorelai chuckles as the woman only nods along. "Cool t-shirt, by the way."

"Metallica fan?" Y/N asks as she eyes her for a moment, noticing the pink tank top with a puppy on it. She found it hard to believe that this smiley woman would be fond of Kirk Hammett.

"Great band," Lorelai nods.

"They know how to play a tune or two," Y/N comments with a quick smirk making Lorelai smile. Clearly enjoying their little talk and what Y/N said next. "It's not too often I run into a pretty Metallica fan."

Lorelai smiles sweetly at those words making Sookie have to hide her smile of excitement with her hand. Before making an excuse to leave the two alone. "I'm gonna head to Luke's before I become bacon out here... nice meeting you."

Y/N gives her a nod as she walks past her, leaving Lorelai stood infront of her and only her. "Yeah, I'll meet you there."

She tossed the ball back over towards her niece who went back to kicking it around the gazebo. Lorelai's eyes still on her as she did so. Enjoying her figure in the summer clothing. "Well I should probably get back to her..."

"Yeah," Lorelai gives her a nod as she breaks out of the trance and looks over at the kid. "She's a cute kid."

"She is," Y/N nods as she gives Lorelai another look once her head turned. "Listen... I'm gonna be in town for a while."

"Oh?" The Inn owner says, obviously too awkward to mumble out something witty as per usual. Y/N nodded before licking her lips. "Yeah, I'll see you around?"

"Yep. It's Stars Hollow; we see everyone and everything. Not in a creepy way... but in a like, we're always looking. God, that sounded very opening scene of Halloween," Lorelai smiles awkwardly before chuckling away her nerves.

"Great movie," Y/N comments with a quick smile as she glanced down at the empty coffee cup Lorelai was holding. Questioning why she was on her second cup of hot coffee on a day like this... but noticing the sharpie'd name written on the side. "…Lorelai."

Lorelai furrows her eyebrows with another soft chuckle. "So you're stalker Michael Myers."

"No, I'm just a girl who can read," Y/N motions to the coffee cup with a nice smirk. Lorelai feels a grin grow at that as she looks over at the woman. "I'll see you later, Lorelai."

"You too, Y/N." Lorelai hums as she watches her head toward the street before turning to her with a confused look. Lorelai only grins as she starts walking to the coffee shop, "I can read too."

Y/N thinks for a moment as she crossed the street and walked back over to her niece. Noticing the ball by her feet. 'Property of Y/N Y/L/N'

"Well, damn."

[true-blue-sonic]

blazamy 31? :0

31. …after a small rejection.

Blaze, despite the many lessons she has learned over the past months about having friends and how to mind them, has so much more to be educated on still, the cat scolds herself as she hurries through the hallway of her palace.

She needs to find Amy.

That isn't so hard: flashes of pink fur and such are easy to spot in the royal garden, that the hedgehog loves frequenting. Also this time she's sitting in one of the spots she and Blaze often can be found together, and yet a frown forms on Blaze's face the closer she comes.

Where normally her sweetheart is fluttering around full of life, now something far more dejected can be seen in the slight slump of her shoulders. And the way she jolts up and the "Oh. Hi, Blaze," that get smiled with none of Amy's usual fire all tell Blaze more than enough already.

Sinking down on the little wooden bench as well the cat sighs. She's got lessons galore in etiquette, how to talk to foreign nations and get their aid and be humble yet clear all at once. She can do all that easily, yet apologising to friends is so hard for her...

Not giving herself time to get cold feet Blaze clears her throats. "I wish to give you an apology. I was rather... snappy."

"It's fine," Amy shrugs back.

"You caught me by surprise, I fear. I do not like being asked on immediate outings without having any time to prepare myself for it," the cat awkwardly tries to elaborate. And especially going shopping of all things...

"I know. I'm sorry too," Amy responds. A few seconds of silence stretch out between them, filled with the chirps of birds and the rustles of leaves... before the pink hedgehog hums and peeks over. "It's just... You're always keeping yourself so busy. When's the last time you did something relaxing?"

Blaze deems it wise to not answer that, though that just makes Amy puff up her cheeks. "See? You're long overdue for some entertainment."

"Amy, I appreciate that you are worried about me, but going shopping is just really not my thing-"

"How can you know that if you never tried it?"

"I've not never tried it," Blaze protests. Sure, she's never tried it with a girlfriend, and also not someone who is basically a shopaholic; but especially that latter detail does not make it look any more appealing. Even if she does yearn to make Amy happy, which she clearly isn't right now, but...

Amy for her part has decided to try her next line of offense, namely large pleading eyes. "Pleaaaaase? We don't need to go for long. Just an hour or so? I want to see what kind of cute boutiques you have in your kingdom!"

...Saying no to those jade eyes staring at her so adorably is hard. And they also make it hard to remember just why Blaze does not want to do this. At least it's still better than seeing Amy so dejected, but she's still not back to being the bubbly hedgehog that Blaze loves seeing so... So maybe...

"...Just one hour," the cat relents. "Then I need to be back to my work anyway- oof!"

Strong peach arms wrap around her to form a crushing hug, Blaze gasping at the force of it all. "Thank you, Blaze!" her girlfriend cheers, hands squishing Blaze's face to press a kiss right against her muzzle. "You're the best!"

"Er... Yes, surely." Swallowing at how her cheeks heat up immediately Blaze clears her throat, squaring up her shoulders and folding her hands with poised focus and grace. She is a princess, after all; even when doing something so girly and teenage-esque as going on a shopping spree. "Now, let us go. Time is wasting, and all that."

With a giggle Amy jumps up to her feet, Blaze's hand grabbed and the cat tugged along immediately as a stream of chatter follow about clothing and gifts, mostly. But it's how Blaze likes seeing Amy, and thus a little smile crosses onto the cat's face all the same.

Even if she's not one for shopping, seeing Amy happy will surely make this one hour all worth it.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 8

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I spend most of Christmas Eve in bed relaxing and catching up on much-needed sleep after days of long, busy shifts at the cafe paired with hours of wedding and party planning, all while trying to stay in contact with my intriguing new phone pal. But much to my dismay, and appreciation, Stella refused to let me stay alone through the night. She insisted I come over for dinner and stay for Christmas. As in her words, “It would be an atrocity for my best friend to spend the holidays alone”. So, I had no choice but to kindly accept her demand. 

As I walk towards the subway station my phone starts buzzing in my jacket pocket. I smile hoping it’s Jensen or Stella, but instead, it’s my boss. I sigh and brace myself as I step out of the path of fast-passing pedestrians and lean against the brick wall of a fashion boutique. 

“Stewie, Hey!” I answer as brightly as possible.

“Y/N, Hi. I know I agreed to let you have today off, and that still stands. We’re closing soon anyway. But I just wanted to let you know a package got delivered here this morning with your name on it. There something wrong with the mail at your apartment? Your neighbours stealing your packages again?”

“Uh…no. Not that I know of. I didn’t order anything.”

“Ah, well I’ll leave it in my office. You have a key, you can swing by through the back and pick it up whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m actually around the corner right now. Can I swing by now before you close?”

“Sure! I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Stewie. See you soon!” I hang up and rush down the street in the opposite direction, back towards the cafe. The sign’s already flicked to ‘closed’ when I get there, but there's light on in the kitchen so I go in. 

“Stewie, it’s just me. For the package,” I call out as I walk towards the lit-up kitchen. As I get closer, the smell of fresh bread and cookies overwhelms my senses. “You know we’re closing for two days, right?” I call out as I round the corner into the spacious kitchen.

The short, round balding man, with just a few strands of grey hair, comes into view carrying a tray of shortbread biscuits straight out of the oven. His glasses, sitting on the tip of his nose, are fogged up. “Yeah, yeah. But I got a big family to feed and a tiny kitchen to do it with. I put everything I got into keeping this place open. I may as well make the most of it.”

“Good idea. So, uh, the package?” I ask as I eye off the golden biscuits, shaped like gingerbread men, wreaths, bells and candy canes. My empty stomach growls and I clear my throat to hide it, but, despite his age, old Stewie hears it.

“Help yourself. I can spare a few. Grab a takeaway container. You can even have a loaf of bread, they’ll be done soon…Wife wants me home before dark.”

“I couldn’t. They’re for your family. I’m just here for my package, remember?”

“Listen, I ain’t no Scrooge. I know your measly salary may make you think I am, but I pay you as much as I can. Outside the holidays, we’re barely making rent. Least I can do is give you a few cookies and some bread.”

“Stewie, I know you do your best for this place and all of us. We all know it. But if you insist, I do find it hard to resist your cooking. Rudie’s great, but you’re the master.”

“No need for flattery, kiddo. Go grab your package from my office and I’ll package up some cookies and bread for you.”

“Alright, thanks. You’re the best!” I smile at Stewie as I go into his office. Mamma Jo was his mother, who passed a few short months ago. She was the light of the kitchen whenever she visited to check on things. Stewie runs the place with as much passion as she did, yet he hasn’t baked since she passed, that is, until tonight. I smile, hoping he’s finally finding his passion again. 

I spot a medium-sized cardboard box on the edge of the desk, I shake my head wondering what it could possibly be. Once I get close enough, I read the label. 

To Y/N, Mamma Jo’s Coffee and Chocolateria 204 5th Ave, New York, NY 10019

From Jensen Acklesc/o Management Beverly Hills, CA 90210

I quickly pull my phone out, snap a picture of the parcel and send it to Jensen.

Hey Superstar, this your doing? Thought you were in Texas?

I don’t wait for a reply, I put my phone away and go back into the kitchen with the box tucked under my arm and my overnight bag slung over my other shoulder. Stewie hands me two boxes of warm goods; I don’t look inside but they smell delicious. He looks at me dubiously as I attempt to carry it all.

“How far you headed, Kiddo?”

“Not far, it’s okay. I’ll manage,” I try to assure him, but he sees right through it. He gives me a look to say he doesn’t believe me; it’s the kind of look you would expect from a parent who’s waiting for their child to come clean. “My friend’s place in Lower Manhattan. She and her fiance invited me for Christmas so I wouldn’t be alone. Plus, I’m helping with the wedding planning.”

“If you help me pack all these up,” Stewie says gesturing at the cooling cookies and bread, “and clean up the kitchen. I’ll drive you.”

“I’m happy to help, but you do not need to drive me that far out of your way on Christmas Eve.”

“I don’t endorse free labor, so either you get out of here now, or you stay and help and then I drive you.”

Feeling the strain in my arms already and dreading the walk in the snow, I make a decision. I sigh and put everything down on a clear counter and then start carefully boxing up cookies. Stewie nods and starts packaging the loaves of bread, croissants and other pastries on the other tray. Once we finish packaging everything, I clean the trays, bowls and utensils while Stewie wipes down the oven and benches. Working in perfect harmony, we’re finished in no time.

It takes a few trips to load everything into his delivery van parked in the back alley. Despite his insistence that it’s all for his family, I know he’ll end up sharing with his whole block and it just makes me admire him more. 

After shutting off the lights and locking up, Stewie skillfully navigates out of the alley and out onto the busy street towards Lower Manhattan. I provide directions to the best of my ability, using my knowledge of the few times Nick has driven me with some –a lot of–help from the GPS on my phone. As I’m looking at the map I notice a text come through from Jensen, but I swipe up quickly to make it go away so I can focus on providing directions. 

After a while, Stewie pulls up in Stella and Nick’s driveway. I thank him sincerely, collect my things and carefully trudge through the light covering of snow to get to the front door. I wave Stewie off once Stella opens the door. I’m instantly welcomed by the warm and enticing smell of roast chicken. 

“I come bearing gifts, Merry Christmas guys!” I say as I signal for Stella to take the boxes of treats. She eagerly takes them as she eyes the other box at the same time. Luckily, though the smell distracts her and she hurries into the kitchen to put the boxes down and peek inside. 

Nick peeks over her shoulder. “Sourdough? That’ll be perfect to go with dinner. I’ll put the store-bought shit back.”

“Rudie or Stewie?” Stella asks critically.

“Stewie. He’s finally coming back on board after everything,” I offer happily.

“Yay!” Stella says clapping as she reaches for a cookie, but Nick slaps her hand away.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” He looks over at my still full arms and nods towards the stairs. “Guest room’s all set up for you so you don’t have to pass out on the couch this time. And if that’s a gift for us it can go under the tree.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks. I’ll just go put my stuff down,” I say with a smile before slipping upstairs to the guest room. I dump my bag on the floor and the box on the bed. I stare at it curiously. Then remember the text in the car. I pull my phone out to read it, but Stella bursts in.

“I tried to make it all nice and pretty and festive for my bestest maid of honor!” She says joyfully as she points out the little Christmas tree and tinsel decorating the dresser.

“It looks amazing! You’re the best,” I say brightly, yet distracted. 

“You didn’t have to get us anything you know,” she says as she gestures at the box. “You being here and organising the bridal shower and helping with the wedding is more than enough. I know money’s tight at the moment.”

“Good, 'cause it’s not from me…Jensen sent it to the cafe. Stewie called and told me to pick it up, hence all the pastries and cookies. I wasn’t meant to go in today…”

“Jensen sent you a gift?”

“I’m not sure if he did or if he got his management team to. Maybe it’s an NDA and warning? He’s in Texas and it says California so…” I finally look down at my phone screen.

It was and I am

I wanted to put my address, I did

But with no NDA my agent was against it

But I promise it’s from me

“He says it’s from him, his agent just wouldn’t let him put his address,” I explain, half to Stella and half to make myself believe it. As I’m talking another text comes through.

Open it yet, Sweetheart?

“He asked if I opened it yet?”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Stella urges as she pushes the box closer to me.

I touch the tape but then withdraw and text him back.

Should I not wait until Christmas?

After a minute his name pops up on my screen. I look hesitantly between the phone and my best friend. She nods understanding and stands up. “I’ll be downstairs, but I want details when you’re done!”

I nod and shoo her out quickly before leaning my back against the now-closed door.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never

[joonslfttiddie]

HOME

Chapter 51: My First…

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/AMBW/Paranormal

💜Warnings: Sex/Smut/Filth/Adult Content/Adult language/Sexual Content/Male|Male/Anal Prep/Oral Sex (M|M)/Unprotected Sex/Brief Bondage/BDSM/Harness/Collar/Mention of Death/Mention of Murder/Magik

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 5,944

Hoseok’s POV

“Are you going to tell her about the painting?”

We are standing across the room from Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin, speaking privately about what we saw on that canvas. Just thinking back, envisioning it in my mind, sends chills up my spine all over again. For some reason, this feeling still doesn’t compare to how I felt looking at it this morning after it had dried. I probe Yoongi about the picture he’d painted the day of the incident when Jason was killed in our home.

“What is there to tell? At first, I interpreted the chaos of the portrait as a symbol of what my heart and mind were feeling at the time. My thoughts and feelings were all over the place, some dark shit, some hopeful, but all were full of uncertainty. This is not something I’m ready to fully admit to myself, much less to Tia.”

“Bro, I get that, but there has to be a reason as to why, shit, HOW, you were able to perfectly capture the scene from earlier so vividly before it even happened. That can’t be a coincidence,” Jungkook adds. “Look at all of the things Tia can do and the things she has seen. If you can take comfort in telling anyone about it, it should be her. And she loves you. She would want to know your true feelings.”

The painting showed Tia levitating mid-air with what looked like a tornado swirling around her. Pieces of debris rode the wind, just like they had earlier. She wore the same clothes, and red faces could be seen emerging from the storm, with clawed hands scratching up at her bare feet. Even her face was hers, yet not–it was the eyes. Something in them, hauntingly unfamiliar.

“I agree that there is no fucking way that it was done by chance, but how do you bring something like that up? You know? I don’t know how it happened or what it means, so how would I explain it to her? Did I manifest that moment from the picture I created? Did I cause this, or was it a warning?” Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, clearly torn.

“Damn, bro,” Jungkook added, kneading at the back of Yoongi’s neck. “You don’t have the answers. We get that. But Tia might. Or Tilly. Or one of us. You’re not in this alone, Min.”

I place a hand on Yoongi’s arm. “Just think about it. You’ve been honest with her about everything else—don’t let this become a wedge. We’ve been doing well with this relationship, though it’s not been perfect. We’re still learning and growing with each other. However, we do know this is not the type of foundation you want to build our love on.”

“‘Aight,” he finally agrees, “Tomorrow. She’s been through enough, and it seems like she’s trying to find some type of balance with Jin. I can’t ruin that for her. Not today. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Y’all are right. I know you’re right; I guess I’m just a bit nervous about this. Tia has the gifts, not us. Not me. And I told y’all about the way I zoned out. I don’t even think I’m the one who painted it. But, tomorrow,” he says, squeezing my hand gently before letting go. “I’ll find the right time to speak with her.”

After our conversation comes to an end, Jungkook speaks up. “Tae,” he calls across the room. “We need to make that run, remember?”

“Of course, I remember,” he answers, excitedly hopping up from the bed while rubbing his hands together. He finds his shorts and pulls them on before running to his room to grab his wallet and a hat.

Taehyung’s POV

At the erotic boutique, Jungkook and I find many lacy pieces that will look good on Tia, but the harness's caramel brown, buttery leather straps seem to call my name.

“Holy shit. JK,” I call him over to where I am. When he sees the material in my hands, his eyes light up with excitement and wonder.

“If you don’t put that in this basket right now!” He jokes as he pushes his handbasket in my direction, obviously eager to see the straps dig into Tia’s similarly complected, baby-soft skin later. “I can’t wait to see this on her. I think we all deserve tonight. Life has been kicking our asses lately.”

“Facts,” I agree with him a hundred percent. Things have been tough for me, navigating within this relationship, shit even getting to this point. Witnessing Jason’s death and how he and his family haunted Tia. But I can’t imagine how she must be feeling. She’s been through so much, even before we met. I just want to hold her and shield her from the world. If I could keep her inside for the rest of her life, safe under our watch, I would. But I know that she ain’t having that shit. She’s stronger than she knows, and I can tell being cooped up in the house is starting to get to her. I’ll talk to the guys later. Maybe arrange a nice outing for us all–just something to lift her spirits and get her out.

I’m pulled from my thoughts and slightly taken aback when Jungkook takes my hand, pulling me closer to him while he lightly brushes his thumb across my skin as he leads me through the shop to explore their inventory, only letting me go to grab or look at this and that. We find a few other goodies before we head back to the house, including some things for each other and the other guys. Once the small basket is nearly spilling over, we make it back to the house. Inside, we sneakily jet upstairs with Tia and Jin not even noticing that we’d left and come back.

“Ah shit,” Jimin says and sits up from resting his head on Yoongi’s lap where he was watching TV. He bounces so cutely on his tiptoes, brimming with excitement and anticipation. “Let me see. Let me see.” He pulls several of the large bags toward him. “Damn! Y’all bought the whole store, didn’t you? And what’s this?”

Yoongi, while not as vocal as Jimin, puts his comic down, wanting to see what is in the bags as well. My heart is racing, just like it was in the shop when Jungkook pulled me close to him. Why was he holding my hand? Does he know that I have a fat-ass boy crush on him? That I would let him ram my ass like there’s no tomorrow?

“I hope I didn’t go overboard, but I’ve been researching and thought it would be fair to be prepared. That in your hand is a douche bulb. I didn’t know who would even be interested in bottoming or if we could all share one or not for sanitary reasons, so we grabbed seven in different colors. Those over there,” he points to what looks like tiny silicone bullets, “are anal dilators and plugs.” He was rambling, the excitement within him evident. “Again, I had the same thought process. Seven different colors that correlate with the bulbs. There’s a shit ton of lube, and this,” he pushes a button on a small, sickle-shaped device with a ring at the end which starts an intense vibration, “is a vibrating cock ring. There are a few of these and some that don’t vibrate.”

It is so cute to see how much effort he’s put into this and how thrilled he is to share his findings. I’m a little envious of how quickly Jimin grabs the yellow products, unfazed and unbothered by the implication that he may be interested in having sex with one or more of us tonight. Yoongi follows his lead, grabbing the black set, and Jungkook grabs the purple. Inspired by their confidence, I think about how these guys have supported me since I first met them. I know that they love me and won’t judge my preferences. Fuck it. I reach for the green set and turn it over to glance at the information on the box. If I’m not mistaken, there is a glimmer of mischievousness in Jungkook’s eyes paired with a slight smirk when he glances at me.

“And what do we have here? This is going to look so fucking fire against her skin,” Jimin says, regarding the leather harness before handing it over to Yoongi.

“Goddamn,” Yoongi says while reaching out to take it, fingers running over the smooth leather material. “It has a collar, too?! Shit. Please, I have to be the one to put this on her.” His words contradict the calm, flatness of his voice, which sends us into a fit of laughter.

“She still has no clue, right? What about Jin?”

“Nope. They will both be surprised,” I reassure Jimin.

“Do you think she will be down for all of this? This is only Jin’s second day here. Is he ready? Tia and I haven’t even made love yet. This is jumping several steps, don’t you think?” Yoongi was worried and rightfully so. Things were moving fast but it didn’t feel forced at all. It just felt…right.

“Wait. I thought you made love the first day you met when you guys were alone up here building the bed frame,” Jungkook says to Yoongi, who chuckles a bit.

“Yeah, it smelled like you guys were together. It smelled like cakes, cookies, and pies all through this bitch,” I add.

“No, we didn’t. We played around a bit, but we stopped before it went too far,” Yoongi admits. “I’m not trying to put her business out there without her permission, but I definitely want to spend some intimate time with her. It just hasn’t happened.”

“So, we’d need to speak with the others, but maybe Yoongi and Jin should run point tonight?”

I love Jungkook’s perspective on the night’s plans and our relationship as a whole. How he’s trying to take everyone into account, be fair, and make sure that everyone gets to spend time with Tia. This is not the first group session, but it will be the first time we’ve all been together at once. Tonight will be huge, especially with our last puzzle piece fitting in so perfectly. 

A part of me wants to wait and just let the moment happen, but another part wants to let Jungkook know I’m interested in being with him tonight. I’ve wanted to be with him again ever since that night we shared that moment with Tia. The way he touched me that night and the gentle brushes of his hand in passing since then only makes me want him more.

“I’m not sure, but maybe Hobi as well,” Jimin says. 

I’m noticing that we all have a relationship with Tia outside of the group, and what we say and do stays between us unless previously discussed or if Tia decides to let the others in. Respect and honesty have been significant in making this relationship work so far. With that being said, I pull at Jungkook’s tattooed arm.

“Ummm, can I talk to you really quick?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook tells me.

“Should we go ahead and lay this down?” Yoongi asks, referring to the waterproof blanket we found while shopping. With all of the lube Jungkook insisted on getting and knowing how Tia squirts at times, we felt this would be a great investment.

“Please. It’d be better to do it now than later,” Jungkook agrees before grabbing my hand to lead me into the bathroom. Again, grabbing my hand with such a command that my heart leaps as if trying to escape my chest to get to him as well. Once inside, he leans back against the sink with his muscular arms folded across his chest. “What’s up?”

Fuck. He’s literally just standing there, and I’m getting so excited. My breathing is becoming a bit difficult, and my mouth is dry.

“I-. Ummm. I was wanting to tell you-.”

Jungkook grabs me by my waist, pulling me in to stand closer to him. The bulge in my pants is nearly touching him, and my eyes widen. Has he seen it? How will he respond to this?

“Hey. Calm down. What is going on with you? You’ve been acting off since we were at the store.” His hands rub up and down my arms before hooking a finger underneath my chin to look at him. He tries to soothe me, but his facial expression looks concerned. “Did I do too much by buying all of that stuff? You know you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I got those things, just in case–to be prepared. I didn’t want to leave anyone out, so just calm down for me, okay?”

“I do,” I blurt out before gasping, surprising myself by my confession. I can’t help but laugh when I say, “I don’t know why I’m so nervous to talk to you about this. We’ve already shared a kiss!”

“Tae, I’ve tasted your dick. There’s nothing you should be hesitant to say to me,” he reassures with a smirk. “You taste delicious, by the way.”

His crass words cause my dick to jump. How he comforts me, eases my heart and mind, giving me the courage to tell him directly, “I want you to be my first, Jungkook. I’ve told you before that I’ve never been sexually attracted to men, much less had sex with a guy. The relationship we’ve developed with Tia and each other has changed that for me. I want to try. With you. Tonight.”

His expression is now pleasant but unreadable. Nervously, I scan my eyes across his face, trying to get a glimpse of what he may be thinking just as he opens his mouth to speak.

“You want to do that for me? Are you sure?”

“I am,” I answer while he’s pulling me even closer. He kisses my chin, then stops to look at me. I close my eyes, a silent invitation for him to go further, and he does. He kisses me deeply, grazing my tongue with his. The bulge in my pants brushes against his. Fuck. He’s bricked, too? Just when I think we can’t get any closer, he pulls me in so that our bodies are now flush. My arms automatically snake around him, my hands clawing at the back of his shirt. Jungkook then sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and runs his tongue across it before breaking the kiss. I can feel the heat rush through my body, bouncing off of my edges, just to be redirected to my dick. I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking hard in my life.

After a moment of nearly devouring each other, he doesn’t pull away and speaks against my lips. “Honestly, I’ve been hoping that this day would come. I’ve longed to be as close to you as possible, to be inside of you. Tae, I would be honored to be your first.”

His lips travel across my stubbled chin, to that sweet spot that sits just below my ear, then to my neck. He settles into the crook of my neck, licking and suckling at the flesh there. He sucks so hard the pain shoots fire throughout my system, just to be extinguished by soft licks of his tongue. My hips involuntarily rock against him as my dick hunts for whatever friction it can find. A moan escapes me, and the groan he releases vibrates throughout the bathroom. He sucks in air when he forces himself to pull away. “Not just yet, handsome. I’m so ready to feel you too, but wait for me, okay? Go ahead and get that little hole ready for me, okay?” We share a few more pecks before he pats my ass, then we rejoin Jimin and Yoongi in the room. 

I retrieve my color-coded accessories along with a bottle of lube from the bed, then return to the bathroom and into the water closet. While sitting on the toilet, I cleanse myself with the douche bulb, use the bidet for extra precaution, then slowly insert a lubed finger into my anus. “Ah.” I’m in foreign territory, and my body reacts, tensing under my own touch. My puckered entrance is so tight I can barely get my fingertip in. “Maybe I need more lube.” I try again after reapplying and it doesn’t seem as bad this time. “Relax. Relax. I just need to relax,” I murmur to myself. When I get out of my head and release some of my rigidity, it becomes easier. Is it uncomfortable? Sure. A new feeling? Absolutely. But I continue pushing in, up to my knuckle. I’m sitting here with my finger up my ass, and I don’t feel anything. The pleasure I anticipated is nowhere to be found. I must admit, the revelation makes me reconsider what I’ve already told Jungkook. I want to be close to him, to be intimate with him, but this just feels like more trouble than it’s worth. Even still, experiencing this with Jungkook and offering myself to him will be enough for me. If I don’t like it, I won’t do it again, but I’m willing to try anything at least once. I work up the nerve to try the anal plug adorned with a pretty green jewel at the end, wanting to be somewhat prepared for what Jungkook has to offer. I breathe a sigh of relief when the plug is inserted and sitting comfortably inside, then join my guys once again.

Namjoon’s POV

I’m not sure what this feeling I’m having toward Hoseok is, but it seems like he’s feeling it, too. It’s gone from a strong connection, like a close friend or homie, to an intense attraction. It’s gotten to the point where I want to be close to him–to feel him against me. This is all so new, but I am beyond excited to explore the possibilities. 

Once inside the house and up the stairs, the scene that awaits us beyond the bedroom door is sinfully delicious. Hoseok and I walk in to see Tia sandwiched between Taehyung and Jimin lying on their sides while Jin is leaning over Taehyung’s back, kissing her passionately. Slurps, smacks, and moans fill the air, and I’m more than happy to be suffocated by it all. One of Jin’s fists dents the bed behind Taehyung while he is licking and fondling Tia’s breasts. The other is hooked around her neck with his fingertips in her hair. She mewls into his mouth as Jimin kisses and laps at that sensitive spot at her nape that we've all come to love. From behind, he peppers her shoulders with wet kisses before slowly traveling down her spine. 

Jungkook, sitting on the chair manspreading with his towel wide open, is breathing heavily with his hand rising and falling slowly, caressing the smooth skin of his dick. Entranced, his mouth is ajar as if he was just about to say something before he was overtaken by the lust that looms in the room. Yoongi is obviously enjoying the show, leaning against the wall while his tongue peeks out of his mouth to play at the corner of his lips. His hand is stroking the thick bulge beneath his thin pajama pants. 

The sexual tension alone nearly has me salivating, ready to participate in tonight’s activities, but I have to shower these germs from the hospital away before I even think about hopping in bed with my loves. I don’t want to get them sick, of course, but Tia also doesn’t play that ‘outside clothes on the bed’ shit. Hoseok and I decide to quickly shower, and while he’s in the other room retrieving clothes for us, I take notice of the products that were left on the countertop in the bathroom.

“What’s this?” I murmur as I pick up the two blue boxes to read their directions. When I realize what one of the products is for, I grab the blue and red bulbs and place them in the shower. It feels strange as it is, having this attraction toward Hoseok, but my desire is growing by the second. The need to be close to him, to be inside of him, or him inside of me, is mind-blowing.

When Hoseok returns to the bathroom, I’m already attempting to undress, but I’m finding it difficult. My timid movements, trying to not feel that jolt of pain from my hurt arm, is making things harder than they should be.

“Stop,” he says with a sympathetic tone and moves closer to me. “Let me.” I offer a grateful thank you when he helps remove my shirt, and he smiles sweetly in return. “May I?” He asks the question while reaching for my jeans. Yes! Fuck, yes! My body is responding as if this isn’t just a kind gesture, and I melt at the touch of his thumbs, hooked inside of my waistband, trailing to follow my v-line to take my pants and boxer briefs down with them. The sensation that singes my skin is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and my dick immediately responds. When it is finally freed, it springs from its confines so quickly it audibly smacks against my stomach. Am I mistaken? Did he just lick his lips while looking at my package? 

After he undresses and we’re both in the shower, I say, “Hobi, thank you for today…for this.” 

“Of course. Don’t mention it. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you,” he says, and I try not to read too much into his statement. I can feel that he wants to be closer, but is it the same way that I’m wanting him?

I can’t help when my brows furrow, a dead giveaway of my troubled mind. “I, um, I found these on the countertop. I think they are for us.” The statement comes out more like a question, the uncertainty lacing my words. “I’m not trying to insinuate anything. I just-. I’m going to use mine…just in case. I would love it if you used yours as well, that is, if that’s something you’re interested in.”

The smirk that pulls at the corner of his lips makes my heart race because I’m unsure whether he finds me amusing or if he’s with it. “Are you saying that you want to fuck me, Joonie? You want to dive into my tight little hole, baby?”

The bright smile spreads across his face contradicts the sultry words coming from his lips. The man-ish questions only fuel my overwhelming desire. I can’t restrain any more and move in closer. 

“Is that mouth of yours always so filthy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of you, Hoseok.”

“I’ve done many filthy things with this mouth of mine.”

“Hmm. Why don’t you show me?”

“I definitely would, but we are on a time constraint. How’s a preview?”

Before I can even answer, I can feel the heat from his breath against my damp skin, and he’s pulling my body against his, his hardened member sitting snugly next to mine. The tip of his dick is smooth and scorches my skin when it caresses my stomach. The soft kisses he places along my collarbone send shivers down my spine, even under the hot spray of the shower. Plush lips trail up my throat, across my jawline, and finally find my lips; he kisses me, and it’s everything I imagined it would be. While mindful of my injured arm, his hands roam and explore my body. Our deep moans and our vehement lust for one another fill the space. It definitely takes effort on my part to not deepen the kiss when he stops to speak.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he whispers against my lips, then pulls away. Gently, he uses the lathered-up loofah to clean my body.

“I can do this myself, you know? I just need you to get my back and my arm.”

“I know, but let me. I want to.” He scrubs every inch of me, then uses his hand to give my dick a little more attention while looking into my eyes. His wrist twists as his fist slowly pumps, gliding along my shaft. He smiles a half smile before taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “You like that, Joonie?”

“Mm hmm,” I groan.

“Use your words, big boy. Do you like it when I stroke you like this? Fisting your shit like this?”

“Yes, Hoseok. Yes, I like it. I love it,” I reassure him as if the flexing of my abs and the way my eyes have squeezed shut isn’t evidence enough. 

He places his manhood against mine, stroking them at the same time with both of his hands clasped around our girth. I open my eyes to look at our members, side by side, brushing against each other. His expression lets me know he’s just as lost in this experience as I am, hooded eyes and parted lips, his chest heaving as he’s panting. The sight before me is too much, and I almost lose it. My hips begin to move on their own accord, thrusting against him and that familiar feeling, the throbbing at the base of my dick and the warmth that surges throughout my body before accumulating in the pit of my belly, is a clear indicator that I’m on the edge. I’m about to cum. And as if on cue, Hoseok stops and pulls away, but he bends down and uses his tongue to lick the precum from my slit. I watch as the water travels down his back before falling to slip down the crack of his ass, and I’ve never wanted to be a droplet of water so bad. He takes my tip into his mouth and sucks lightly, circling it with the tip of his tongue. My head falls back, my knees quiver, and I press a flat hand to the shower wall for some type of support. Just as I’m on the brink of explosion, he gives my dick a few more soft licks before he stands–smiling at me.

That fucking smile. How can a man look so innocent after doing the freaky shit he just did to me? Like he didn’t just try to coax my soul from my body, pulling pleasure from me as effortlessly as a snake charmer seducing a serpent from its basket. My mind is in the ether, and I’m still panting, only taking a break to swallow the drool that has threatened to fall from my lips.

“Are you okay?” He chuckles lightly, obviously amused by the reaction he’s gotten from me. I can only nod and pull him in so that his head is resting on my shoulder. “This is crazy…being here with you like this. Never in my life would I have imagined I’d be in this position, but here I am, resisting the urge to take you further down my throat.”

“Hobi. You have to stop before you make me explode. Let’s finish this after we join the others, hmm? Then you can show me how deep you can take me.”

Jungkook’s POV

Hoseok tried to help by pointing out that Tia was bound on the bed with her ass in the air, but she’ll be okay. Hell, she’s been showing her ass for the past two days anyway, what’s a few more minutes? I rub a hand over my face, aware that I’m obviously still a little upset, but I do understand her reasoning. There is just a hint of aggression left over that wasn’t expelled during my workout that she will have to take. It needs to be released, and I plan to do precisely that tonight while helping melt her frustrations away. I keep this all in mind, well aware that the way that I’m feeling is contributing to the level of dominance I’m displaying, taking note to mind my words and lead with love, not ego. But she will be getting this work.  Like I said, I understand, but I still don’t like the shit. 

I lay beside Tia, letting my fingers drag along her slit, collecting her moisture, then using it to work a finger in, then two, then ask, “Are you ready to play?” She answers with a nod and a moan that comes from deep within her. Her legs quiver, her body ready for whatever the night has in store, and just when the pleasure starts to build, I pull out to clean my fingers, sucking and licking her essence clean. Her eyes fixed on me are full of need, lusting for my mouth to have a taste of her directly from the source. 

I leave her there for a moment while the guys and I begin laying the bottles of lubricant and toys on the bed so that everything is within arm’s reach. I watch as she eyes the soft fabric of the waterproof blanket, noticing that she’s not seen this before but doesn’t say anything.  When I find my way back to lay with her, on my side I rest my head on the palm of my hand, allowing my eyes to trace every inch of her. She looks so beautiful, as usual, but there’s something about her being in this position, open and vulnerable to us. Her hands secured behind her rest at the small of her back. Her thigh straps, connected to the band under her bust, keep her ass arched high in the sky and her pussy on full display, her wetness glimmering under the light.

“Are you comfortable? Nothing’s too tight?” She shakes her head. “Okay, good. Well, I hope you don’t mind, but we conspired together to deliver a fun-filled night for us all now that we’re all here. Together. And we all could use a bit of fun after everything.” She nods, and her face is animated as if to say, ‘You ain’t lying.’ “You just let us know at any time if there is something you don’t like or if you want us to stop.” She smirks and blinks slowly, and I interpret it as ‘I don’t mind at all, and okay’. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you’ve spent any ‘special’ time with Jin, Yoongi, or Hoseok.” She nods. “Would you like to share this moment with them first?” She nods again with that familiar glimmer of excitement in her eyes that makes me so happy every time I see it. I relay the message to the guys, and everyone else agrees, insisting it’s only fair that they have time to spend with Tia. 

Jin still seems a bit bashful, wearing his shirt and boxer briefs, and I can’t say that I blame him. My first time with Tia was just us—no audience or others to share her with. Things now are good but I can’t lie and say they aren’t a bit more complex. I look over to see that, though naked, Yoongi and Hoseok seem to be just as timid. Maybe they feel like they’re being put on the spot. 

To lessen so many eyes on them, I call Taehyung over to me, and he doesn’t hesitate; his eyes are on mine as he crawls up the center of the bed, then leans over to kiss Tia’s lips. Running my fingers through his hair, I give them time to enjoy one another. When they pull away, I pull her body to sit up a bit, then guide Taehyung’s member to line up with her lips. 

“Here, baby. Have a taste,” I coach, and she obeys immediately, slowly sucking him in while looking up into his eyes.

“Shit,” he says, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches her bob her head. 

My hand travels down his back, across his hip, then I grip his ass cheek roughly. He hisses, then collects some of the dribble from Tia’s bottom lip with his thumb. He brings it to his mouth to suck it off.

“Goddamn,” falls from my mouth before I even realize. I kiss his forehead, then his cheek, then his lips. I look down to find Tia’s eyes on mine, and the smirk she musters with her lips still wrapped around Taehyung’s girth tells me she likes this and wants to see more. With my hand flat under her chin, I pull her away from Taehyung, and she releases with a slurp.

“Mmm hmm, Jagiya,” Taehyung begins, “that was amazing.”

At that moment, Yoongi is the first to move, crossing the bed to join us in the center. I help as he positions himself under Tia, and we lift her body to straddle his lap since her hands are currently out of commission, bound by the wrist restraints and connected to the strap going down the center of her back. Taehyung and I lay on our sides, facing chest to chest while his back is to Yoongi. Yoongi sits up, and his hands explore Tia’s curves as his fingers trail over the leather belts and then across the skin that slightly puckers between each one. Her eyes are low, staring back into his.

“Hello, my love,” Yoongi greets, but she remains silent, only smiling at him. She is such a good girl, still obeying my directives.

“You may speak now, Noona,” I grant her permission.

“Hi.” Her voice is still a little hoarse but is much better than it was. I’m thinking it may be due to the tea Jimin had researched and prepared for her earlier. She’s smiling down at Yoongi and grinning so hard I’m sure he can see all thirty-two of her teeth.

“Are you that happy to be with another man in front of me?” I can’t help but to tease her.

“Mmm hmm,” she answers, and just when I think her smile can’t get any bigger, it does, and her eyes disappear.

“You’re so fucking cute. Isn’t she, Yoongi?”

“Absolutely breathtaking,” he answers me.

I return my attention to Taehyung, trailing feather-light touches to his side with my fingertips. He squirms and pulls me closer to him, and I give in, unable to hold off any longer. When our lips crash into each other, my brain explodes from pleasure and anticipation. Our tongues wrestle, and my hands caress and grip every inch of his skin I come across. I’m unsure how long we’re making out, but I know I’m nearly bursting at the seams when we pull apart for air. I need to feel him, and with each trace of his tongue against mine, I crave him even more. As if reading my mind, he nudges me to lay on my back, then trails kisses across my collarbone, chest, and stomach. Only my head is lifted from the bed as I’m trying to enjoy watching every move he makes.

“It makes no sense for you to be this fucking sexy,” he says against my skin between kisses. 

His lips trace down the path of my v-line to find their way to my throbbing dick, already leaking precum. Taehyung licks at my slit, collecting my excitement on his tongue, then bobs his head down in tandem with Tia’s ass. His warm, wet mouth swallows me whole just as Tia’s sopping wet cunt slides down to devour every inch of Yoongi. This is going to be a long night as I’m already fighting for my fucking life, trying not to climax already.

[victusinveritas]

Summer 1962. Rio de Janeiro. At the Veloso Bar, a block from the beach at Ipanema, two friends—the composer Antonio Carlos Jobim and the poet Vinícius de Moraes—are drinking Brahma beer and musing about their latest song collaboration.

The duo favor the place for the good brew and the even better girl-watching opportunities. Though both are married men, they’re not above a little ogling. Especially when it comes to a neighborhood girl nicknamed Helô. Eighteen-year-old Heloisa Eneida Menezes Pais Pinto is a Carioca—a native of Rio. She’s tall and tan, with emerald green eyes and long, dark wavy hair. They’ve seen her passing by, as she’s heading to the beach or coming home from school. She has a way of walking that de Moraes calls “sheer poetry.”

Legend has it that Jobim and de Moraes were so inspired by this shapely coed, they wrote a song for her right on the bar napkins. It’s a good story, but it’s not quite true.

While Helô inspired the song, it was another Carioca who carried it beyond Rio. Astrud Gilberto was just the wife of singing star João Gilberto when she entered a NYC studio in March 1963. João and Jobim were making a record with tenor saxman Stan Getz. The idea of cutting a verse on “Ipanema” in English came up, and Astrud was the only one of the Brazilians who spoke more than phrasebook English.

Astrud’s child-like vocal, devoid of vibrato and singerly mannerisms, was the perfect foil for her husband’s soft bumblebee voice. Jobim tinkled piano. Getz blew a creamy smooth tenor. Four minutes of magic went to tape.

A year later, the song was casting its quiet spell of sea and sand on the charts, washing past the Beatles’ “I Want To Hold Your Hand.” It peaked in mid-June at No. 5, selling over two million copies.

“The Girl From Ipanema” went on to become the second-most recorded popular song in history, behind “Yesterday.” Covered by an A-Z gamut of performers, it’s become the ultimate cliché of elevator music—shorthand for the entire lounge revival of the ’90s.

Over the years, Helô Pinheiro (her married name) enjoyed country-wide fame, ranking with Pelé as one of the goodwill ambassadors of Brazil. She never settled on an occupation, dabbling in acting, then running a modeling agency. In 1987, she posed nude for Playboy (and again in 2003, with her daughter Ticiane). In 2001, Helô opened the Girl From Ipanema clothing boutique in a Rio shopping center.

Shortly after, the heirs of Jobim (who died in 1994) and de Moraes (who died in 1980) filed a lawsuit, claiming Helô was only inadvertently involved in the song’s creation and didn’t have the right to use it for commercial purposes.

Helô says, “I never made a cent from ‘The Girl From Ipanema,’ nor do I claim that I should. Yet now that I’m using a legally registered trademark, they want to prohibit me from being the girl from Ipanema. I’m sure that Antonio and Vinícius would never question the use of the name.”

After much ugliness in and out of court, Helô was able to keep the name for her boutique. Today, she reflects on the early ’60s in Ipanema with nostalgia. “I like the time when everything was prettier because of love, as it says in the Portuguese version of the song. I am still touched when somebody plays the song in my honor.”

—By Bill DeMain

Image: As a teenager, Helo Pinheiro was a regular on Rio's Ipanema Beach

[dark-frosted-heart]

3rd Anniversary Event - A Beast’s Dream Fulfilled by Beauty - Sariel

Sweet + Premium Ending Combo

Premium is in Sariel's POV. Emma's POV will be in purple.

As a child, Sariel didn't even know who he was so he never formed a dream. All he had was the tattoo and the feeling he couldn't put a name to. However, some of the Rats had dreams.

~~Flashback~~

A former slave asks an ex-bandit what his dream is. The ex-bandit asks the former slave if he's crazy. People like them don't get to have dreams. Still, the two continue their conversation, sharing their dreams with each other. They may be the lowest class, but that doesn't mean they're not allowed to find a purpose in life.

Sariel snaps at the two to cut the chatter and focus on the task at hand. They're target's coming.

~~End Flashback~~

Dreams were just idle chatter that Sariel didn't really care about. Actually, if he had to say he had a dream, it would be finding out who he was. He just didn't realize it until now. And never thought he'd have another.

~~~

Sariel admits that he was being a little mean to Emma today. He did, in fact, find his dream all thanks to her. Emma didn't even notice. Sariel does plan to tell her, but he first picks her up. He asks that she let him thank her first.

Emma had hurt her feet from all the walking so the two stop at a boutique owned by an acquaintance of Sariel's. He removes her shoes, applies some ointment to her feet, and bandages them. Emma didn't think he'd notice. Perhaps wearing cute shoes was a bad idea.

Emma points out that Sariel's acting sweeter than usual. Sariel replies that he's in a good mood since he did a lot of things he normally wouldn't do. Never had he thought he'd spend a day off like this. Without Emma, he never would've known the pleasures in life. He had decided to devote himself to his country, so he was far removed from any sort of entertainment.

Sariel then recalls something the king had once told him. Even back then, Sariel was always working. The king asks why he doesn't go out and have fun on his days off. Sariel asks the king if he looks like the kind of guy that likes going out to play. The king worries because he doesn't look like the type to. He's still young, yet he's working all day. The king doesn't want to restrain him like that. He suggests Sariel go out into town and find something that interests him. Sariel doesn't think it's necessary. The king says Sariel's going to end up suffocating himself. Life's pleasures are where the heart is. He hopes that he'll find it some day.

At the time, Sariel didn't think it was necessary, but now he understands what the king means. All the burdens pile up unknowingly and end up wearing him down. It's not something he noticed until he met Emma. The time spent with her eases the burdens and and replaces them with pure happiness. The desire to experience the joy he had today, perhaps that was what one could call a dream.

Sariel asks Emma what she thinks his dream is. Considering what he had said, she guesses that it's playing and having fun to the fullest. Wait no, that doesn't sound right. She accidentally inserted her own desires. Except she's correct.

Sariel tells Emma that he'd like to experience more things with her. Though he still has a lot of work, he plans to take more time off. He had the time of his life today and would like to experience it again. For Sariel who's never had the chance to experience a normal life, this is huge. Emma says it's a nice dream. But dreams are meant to be fulfilled. She kneels down to Sariel's level, takes his hands in hers, and asks that he let her help in fulfilling that dream. Sariel wouldn't have it any other way. His dream won't be able to be fulfilled without her. Nothing's worth experiencing without her.

For a moment, Sariel thinks about what it would've been like if he and Emma had met earlier in life. Maybe he would've done what the king asked.

When Sariel's with Emma, he becomes someone different. Emma wants to get to know more about that Sariel. The two will learn together in due time. He wonders if that's also considered a dream. Funny how these dreams keep popping up one after another in his adult life.

Next up, Sariel's going to buy Emma another pair of shoes. If she's going to continue to accompany him, she'll be doing a lot of walking. He suggests something comfortable.

~~~

Emma stifles a yawn on the carriage ride home and looks down at her new pair of shoes. As she struggles to stay awake, Sariel moves to sit next to her and wraps an arm around her shoulder. He tells her to sleep against his shoulder but she refuses. He then lays her head down on his lap and Emma finds herself blushing. She goes to sit up but a hand on her forehead gently keeps her down. Is she going to deprive him of this pleasure, he asks. Seeing the happiness in his eyes, Emma naturally relaxes. The repeated motion of fingers stroking her starts lulling her to sleep, but she tries to resist. She tells Sariel that she also found a new dream. To fill him with memories of her.

~~~

That night, Sariel carries a sleeping Emma back to his room, having fallen asleep on the carriage ride home. He lays her down on the bed and her brows furrow. As he starts to change her clothes, she mutters his name and grabs his clothes in her sleep as if telling him not to leave. Really, she's too adorable.

As Sariel goes to soak a towel in a bowl of water, he almost couldn't recognize his own reflection as the person staring back had too soft of an expression. If that's what it's like to have a dream, then it's not so bad.

[chesters-ocs]

SOULMATES (4)

couldn't help myself. continuation of the previous 2 posts. a little sorta day in the life. something about the mundane is so fun to write

wc: 852

@the-whispers-of-death pspsps im taking this au and running with it lol

It had been a number of days since Sylvester met his soulmate, which then caused a crash of panic onto him after him and Mārīte got back home.

Ever the curious little thing, his daughter all but demanded to have everything explained, and it was then that he silently cursed himself for never bothering to even tell her about something as simple and universal as a soulmate.

At least it seemed she was majorly interested, her eyes sparkling as she clung to his every word… How naive, he thought, before waving that thought away, not wanting to berate a child for being that: a child, and not understanding the world yet.

Without any further interference from his soulmate, he couldn't help but believe he made a horrific first impression. He won't blame the man, however. His mind was practically mush, and there's precious few who are willing to date someone with children from previous relationships…

As if you can even call it that, it was a glorified fling at best, and destructive at worst… Usually the worst, actually, now that he thought about it in hindsight.

No matter though… With complete radio silence from the stranger, he fell back into his usual routine. Mārīte's at school, and he's on his lunch break at some nameless company he'll forget about a few years from now. Though he supposes there is one good thing about it. Location's pretty good: central London makes it easy to find a grocery store or a bakery. Easy enough that he decided to walk, despite the rain. It's nothing worrying, given the compact umbrella in his backpack.

Sylvester steps out into the street with an expression as neutral as ever, as the man brings up and opens the umbrella. It's a simple, black thing, made of cheap material, but it gets the job done. That's all he needs. And so he trudges down main street, keeping an eye out for anything interesting.

Shops seemed to come and go constantly, rent always rising and sinking at the heart of the city. If he wasn't used to it, he would probably be overwhelmed by the size and quantity. Boutiques here, office buildings there, little family owned businesses sandwiched between both.

And speaking of family owned.. a new bakery had opened nearby, Sylvester noted. There's a couple balloons by the entrance, and the signs say there's an opening week sale. Not thinking too much, he crosses the street over to it, and pushes open the door, and unequipped his raggedy umbrella.

The place is small, but cozy. There's plenty of pastries and snacks-to-go on the display by the cash register, and the young woman in the apron greets him cheerfully.

After a second of taking the place in, the man nods, saying his own greetings. But he doesn't even spare a glance at her name tag, instead looking over the fresh goods, as well as the coffee menu.

"… Hello. Can I have a large latte to-go, as well as the chicken sandwich?"

"Of course, cash or card?"

"Card, please."

He's met with a nod, as the worker punches in the prices, and the total appears on the small card reader. He enters the pin the moment the woman turns around to work the coffee machine. A beep confirms his payment, the check already getting printed.

Within a few moments, he's out, small paper bag in tow. In the few minutes he was inside, the rain had worsened. At least the wind isn't strong today, he thought. That's one thing he didn't miss about his home: the rain tended to come with strong winds, and it did not help his hometown was a coastal one. He was used to trashing umbrellas just after a few uses due to that…

Nevertheless, he still had time to return to his office building, and sit down at his desk there. He carefully unwraps the sandwich and places the paper cup on a coaster, when he gets the urge to check his phone.

Lucky that he did too. A new message, sent moments after he left to buy lunch. He almost groaned, noticing how he forgot to turn on the volume: a nasty habit of his to do.

He swipes to check the notification, not even blinking at the unknown number. The man figured this is just another client needing a quick job.

"Hello, is this Sylvester?"

At least the message was a simple one too. A few taps later, he sends a response, before shutting off the device.

"Yes it is."

A shame he didn't notice how the person on the other side already started typing, as he snacked on his lunch. The taste is a pleasant surprise, and in the moment, he figures he'll have to go there more often. Maybe bring Mārīte there too… She'd probably like the cakes, he muses.

However, he still didn't turn up his volume, already getting distracted by office work, so it's only when he gets back home with his kid, that he'll properly see the barrage of new unread texts. Someone claiming to know his mystery-man soulmate.

[fitrahgolden]

Should You Need Me: 13 - I'll back you up

"So, Kaveri invited me to breakfast this Saturday."

Kate nodded sheepishly from behind her tea cup, sitting in what had become their default lunch spot ever since Tom started reaching out regularly. "Yes, she talked to me about it first. Do you… think you'll come?"

Tom narrowed his eyes cryptically before smiling. "Yes. I told her I'd love to."

"Really? Oh, my goodness. I can't wait! It'll be like– Well, no. I know it's not–"

Tom put a hand over Kate's. "It's OK, Katie. I get it. I'm excited, too."

"Good," Kate whispered.

Tom smiled as he patted her hand and pulled it back to pick up his coffee mug.

"OK, you know I have to ask. I waited for twenty whole minutes, so you should be proud."

"Yes, you are very patient." He rolled his eyes. "Go on, then."

"Who was that who dropped you off?"

Tom chuckled. "She's, um… Well, I'm not sure yet, but it's going well."

"That's really good to hear, Tom."

"I don't know," he shrugged, "but it feels nice. Don't expect me to bring her this weekend." His warning was good-natured.

Kate put her hands up in mock surrender. "I know, I know."

"Yeah, let's see if I can get through a meal with Anthony without ending up a missing person, eh?"

"I promise I won't let him murder you."

"I'd appreciate it."

They looked at each while Kate was trying to think of what to say. Things had massively improved over the past couple of months, but they still had a ways to go before the awkward lulls stopped happening every time they spent time together.

"Katie, it'll be alright. I didn't know for a long time, but I know now. We're going to be OK."

Kate exhaled slowly, feeling a little bit lighter.

—

When Kate got home, she found Anthony at his desk, Newton asleep at his feet.

"Hey." She walked up behind him and put her arms around his neck.

Anthony's returned greeting was turning and bringing Kate's face down to his for a kiss.

After Kate released him and started walking toward the couch, Anthony asked, "How was lunch?" as he got up from his chair to follow her. He stopped her from sitting down so he could do so first and pull her into his lap.

Kate eyed him warily. Things really had been improving vis a vis Tom on all fronts, including mentioning him around Anthony.  Kate couldn't remember the last time hearing Tom's name elicited an unnecessarily harsh comment from Anthony. But he hadn't been particularly engaging, either, which Kate understood. She really just needed them to be cordial, and she was hopeful about the upcoming weekend.

Kate rubbed the crease between Anthony’s eyebrows. "You don't look mad," she joked.

Anthony grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I guess I'm growing as a person. Aren’t you proud?"

"Yes," she answered earnestly.

"You care about him, Kate. So, that means I do, too, in a way."

"Anthony…" Kate sighed into his mouth as she kissed him. She rested her forehead on his. "To answer your question, lunch was wonderful. Tom's in a good place, and… It just feels good to be able to say we're friends again."

Anthony nodded, "If you're happy, I'm happy, sweetheart."

—

Kate was getting ready to go home after coming by Anthony's boutique to eat lunch with him in his office. She kissed him goodbye only to feel him walking her towards the sofa.

"Let's take a nap," he suggested against her mouth.

Kate laughed. "It's never just a nap with you, especially here." She pushed him down onto the couch and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. 

"Please? Maybe I'll surprise you."

Kate shook her head with a smile as she walked over to the shelf to grab the blanket that had become so special to them– and completely froze. Sitting atop the folded blanket was a small velvet lilac purple box. Kate found she couldn't move, nor could she stop staring at it. She was in such a trance that Anthony's voice genuinely startled her when he spoke up.

"Pick it up, Kate."

Kate reached for it, slowly, like it might bite her if she made any sudden movements. Once she finally picked it up, she turned to find Anthony kneeling in front of her. His stare was characteristically intense as he lifted his open hand and beckoned towards the jewellery box. Kate handed it to him. Anthony took a big breath. 

"Kate. I think it's safe to say we surprised each other last year. I never thought I would want this, that I would so desperately need to ask so much of someone. But as soon as you let me in, I knew this was inevitable. I want everything for and with you, Kate."

Anthony opened the box to reveal a gold and emerald ring. Kate immediately thought of the bangles her father gave her mother on their wedding day. The ring looked like it belonged in a set with them. Kate blinked slowly, tears running down her cheeks as she smiled at the coincidence. Kate didn't believe in signs, but it was hard not to read some meaning into Anthony’s choice of an engagement ring. Appa would have loved it. And I think he would have loved Anthony.

"I want you to be my wife. I need to be your husband. So, please, Kate. Will you marry me?"

Kate sunk to the floor as well so she could face him, so she could pull him towards her and kiss him. Anthony sighed against her lips.

"Baby, I need you to say yes so I can put this on your finger. I've been told that's how this works."

Kate pulled back and cradled his face. Amazingly, he didn't look one hundred percent sure she would say yes. Silly man.

"Yes, Anthony. I want everything with you, too."

Anthony's grin was blinding as he put the ring on Kate's finger. This time, he let her kiss him without interrupting. Well, for a time. Eventually, he pulled them both to their feet. He looked back towards the sofa and said, "I've also been told it's proper to follow up a successful proposal with engagement sex."

"I knew it wasn't just going to be a nap."

—

"Easy work. Mary's saree, Kaveri’s jewellery," Anthony said with an air of authority that Kate couldn't deny was warranted.

His arms were wrapped around her, his head on her shoulder as they sat on their living room floor, The Mums’ wedding outfits laid out before them.

From the couch, Mary clapped and side-eyed Kaveri smugly.

"Mum, be nice," Kate chided. "Amma, your bangles match my ring perfectly, don't you think?

Kaveri didn't actually look slighted. She was teary-eyed as she nodded. "Yes, Chellam. They'll look perfect together. I still can't believe you picked that ring without having seen them, Apne."

Anthony shrugged as he kissed Kate's shoulder. "I don't know what to say. It worked out the way it was supposed to, it seems." His tone lightened as he said, "And besides, I know how to dress a woman. I know how to dress my woman– if only she would let me." He muttered the last bit. He was more than a little offended when Kate told him she didn't want him to make her dress. She found his resulting petulance adorable.

"Alice is doing a wonderful job, and you know it. And don't act like you aren't giving her unsolicited notes all the time."

"She appreciates my input."

"No, she really doesn't. I'm considering banning you from my appointments."

"You wouldn't," he gasped.

"I would."

"No, you wouldn't," he repeated, quietly, with less humour.

"No?"

"No." He kissed her temple, as The Mums pretended not to be paying attention. "You like having me in your entourage."

—