#tonight the sun disappeared too soon ; ( musings )

[vagabond-umlaut]

THE LOVE CONFESSION THAT NEVER HAPPENED

▸ TEEN!GOJO SATORU X TEEN!FEM!READER; FLUFF WITH A PINCH OF ANGST; THIS FIC IS NOT CANON TO THE SERIES WE'RE THE SUMMER TO OUR WINTER RAIN!!!!; READER MIGHT BE A BIT OOC!!!! ▸ READER'S CLAN NAME & CURSED TECHNIQUE ARE REVEALED IN THIS. ANY & ALL SIMILARITIES TO ANOTHER'S READER/OC IS PURELY UNINTENTIONAL AND COINCIDENTAL. I SWEAR I DIDN'T PLAGIARIZE IT. ALSO, I'M UTTERLY AWFUL AT FINDING JAPANESE TERMS OF ENDEARMENT, DESPITE GOOGLING. SORRY :((

▸ THIS IS FOR THE AWESOME @heresan WHO NEVER FAILS TO SPOIL ME WITH HER ASK. ILYSM TINA! <333 ▸ WARNING: BRIEF MENTION OF A HIT-AND-RUN CASE & INFIDELITY IN ONE LINE [SATORU & READER ARE NOT INVOLVED, DW] ▸ AS ALWAYS, THE GIF, DIVIDER & CHARACTERS USED AIN'T MINE. PLS DON'T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE OR REPOST THIS. ENJOY READING! ❤️

The stars are but mere fireflies to the sun that is the Kojima household tonight. 

Bedecked in bright lights and a thousand and one paper lanterns, the palatial grounds of the property exude a brilliance, the likes of which the guests claim to have never been seen before, their awestruck voices drawing a polite smile from your grandmother (though the pride in her ancient eyes is unmistakable, you note). 

You move your eyes away from your clan matriarch and let them rove over those around you – and their glowing selves – rendered more luminous by their expensive fabrics, sparkling jewels, and gleaming smiles. 

Oh, what a couple of scraps of paper can do to one’s self, you muse silently, glancing at the woman batting her eyelashes at your cousin – the former the same one who was convicted in a hit-and-run case a year or two back, though now, with a Louis Vuitton dress hanging off her frame, no one, except you, perhaps, remembers on seeing her the innocent blood she wiped off her hands, all thanks to her wealth. 

Not wanting to mar this celebratory evening with such dark thoughts, you shift your gaze to tonight’s centre of attention: the older of your two brothers, Takeshi and his fiancée Sara, your lips turning upwards into a small smile on seeing how dazzling they look beside each other – how beautiful, how well-suited, how happy, how… very artificial they look beside each other. 

As artificial as the thousand and one paper lanterns your grandmother’s so proud of. 

As artificial as your guests’ smiles - too-white, too-wide, too-thin. 

As artificial as the compliments you can hear that woman shower upon the wife of the man she was attempting to seduce not too long ago. 

Your smile disappears to give way to a frown, as you take in the falsity around you. 

And a leaden weight lodges itself in your chest, right where your heart should be, when your eyes again meet the sight of your brother and your childhood friend smiling at the photographer – while your ears hear the wails of anguish, the snarls of contempt and the sighs of wistfulness –a cacophony of abandoned dreams and stifled desires emanating from the two souls soon to be joined in holy matrimony, two weeks from today. 

Your mother says marriage is one of, if not the happiest event in a person’s life. 

Oh Mom! If only you could hear what I can now… 

Placing your empty glass of mojito mocktail on the grass near you, you lean back against a tree and close your eyes to soothe the throbbing pain in your temples – one which always happens after you’ve been amid too many people for too long a time, much to your great discomfort. 

Sighing loudly, you move to lie down on the grass when the sounds of an approaching pair of footsteps reach you, soon joined by a boisterous yell of “Aha! There’s the woman of my dreams I’ve been searching for so long!” 

“Hello to you too, Satoru,” You say, turning to the side and propping yourself up on an elbow, your eyes now open. “Didn’t think you would make it to the party.” 

Gojo flops down beside you with an exaggerated pout. 

“Oh, come on, Momo-chan. Think a bit higher of me, will you? Of course, I would make it to the party. My best friend’s brother’s getting engaged today. How on earth could I ever miss it?” 

“And since when have you and Takeshi been on such good terms, hm? That you’re willing to leave your comfortable life at school to attend a party filled with clan elders for an entire evening?” You ask him, an eyebrow raised, unwilling to buy into his rubbish explanation. 

Gojo chuckles. “Oh, it’s not Takeshi I’m here for today,” He says softly, shuffling closer to you until your sides are almost touching, “It’s you.” 

You open your mouth, ready with a snarky reply, when his expression makes you stop – the words you were planning to say, now lost in your throat, as you look at his unusually earnest face. 

“Satoru?” Your voice comes out as a shaky whisper, reasons behind which you cannot fathom for the love of your life. 

(It’s ’cause he’s so close to you, silly! A part of your brain whispers – the same one which had made you call Gojo handsome, out of all the damned things you could say to him – that day you first saw him in his Jujutsu Tech uniform – much to your utter bewilderment and embarrassment.) 

You clear your throat and repeat yourself loudly, “Hey, Satoru?” 

“Hm?” Gojo moves even closer to you when you call his name and places a hand on your cheek, the warmth of it making a wonderful contrast with your cold skin that chilly autumn night. 

“Do-” You hesitate, as an odd (warm? bubbly?) feeling creeps into your chest, but ultimately your concern for the eerie way his eyes seem to shine at you outweighs that weird feeling, and you ask, “Do you have a fever, Satoru? You don’t really look okay there.” 

Gojo blinks, his unusual expression soon overtaken by a stupefied one as you continue to peer up at him, frowning. 

“Satoru,” You shake him gently, after a few seconds of him staring at you. “Hey! Gojo!” 

That seems to shake him out of his stupor, as he quickly removes his hand away from your cheek and scoots away, his face reddening with each passing moment. 

“N-no, no. I’m okay. Totally okay,” He mumbles, “There’s no need to worry. I’m perfectly fine.” 

But you know the white-haired shaman way better than that. 

You sit up and move closer to him and place your palm on his forehead, the other palm on your own forehead. “Now, lie still and let me check your temperature.” 

“Your skin’s warm… But not so warm for you to have a fever,” You say after a while, still frowning down at your friend whose head you have now placed in your lap, “But your face looks awfully red. And your eyes too seem weird. And,” Pausing, you place your hand on the kimono over his heart, remembering a person’s pulse rate is said to speak volumes about their health, and gasp. 

“My goodness, Toru! What the hell happened to you? Your heart is beating really fast! Are you-” 

A finger to your lips stops your outburst, and within the next moment, you find yourself crushed to his chest, his arms holding you in a vice-like grip and his nose muzzling into your hair. 

“Toru, you’re not really okay, are you?” You ask, tilting your head up at him, the slight tremor in your voice inaudible to all except you – and Gojo too, perhaps, judging by the way you notice him smirk a little at you, before it slips into an indecipherable twitch of his lips. 

“No, I’m not okay,” He answers above you, his arms around you tightening a touch. “I’m really, really not okay.” 

You crane your neck upwards to fully look at him and brush the pads of your thumbs over the skin under his eyes. “Then why did you come here tonight, you idiot? You should have stayed back in your dorms and taken rest,” You scold him, concerned eyes sweeping over his appearance. 

Gently removing your hand from his face to intertwine his fingers with yours, Gojo leans closer to your face and whispers, every breath he exhales hitting your face like a little puff of smoke in the cold, “But I couldn’t stay back in my dorms tonight, Momo-chan – Not when I know the medicine to my treatment is here.” 

It takes a while for his words to register themselves in your brain. 

And when they do, you can’t help but let out a small gasp (the same time as that portion of your brain lets out a small squeal in joy). 

“Are you-” You begin but stop yourself from speaking any further, your trust in your oratory skills having plummeted to an all-time low, and choose instead to focus on his electric blue eyes as the slew of nervous mutterings, which had been lost in the background of your mind until now, slowly turns intelligible. 

Was that too much for her? 

Am I going to get rejected? 

Well, shit, she’s going to reject me. 

Oh wait – did she even understand me? 

My Momo-chan can be really dense at times – though she’s cute too then – like really, really cute! 

But no, seriously – was I too roundabout for her? Or should I have confessed to her directly? 

Oh no, she’s looking at me right now. Is she angry? Is she disappointed? Is she horrified? 

Oh no, that’d be the worst – if she’s horrified. 

Calm down, Satoru. Calm down. Take a breath in and think straight. Panicking won’t help you now. 

But I’m too much in love with Momo-chan to even think straight. 

Damn it, damn it, just damn it. 

I should have just listened to Suguru and written her a love letter or something. 

“Love letters are really beautiful, Toru-chan,” Reaching up a hand, you tuck some of his unkempt hair behind his ear – while a giggle erupts from you at the way his face changes from being lovestruck (and not fever-stricken, you realise, relieved) to horrified to the most apprehensive you’ve ever seen him – and you add with a grin, “But this confession is the most beautiful of them all. I love it.” 

Gojo blinks. “So does that mean…” He trails off, an unsure yet hopeful look in his eyes. 

Sliding your hand down to his cheek and keeping it there, you reply, “Yeah, I guess it does mean so, Toru-chan.” 

A moment passes in pin drop silence between the two – the only sounds being the distant chatter of the party and the occasional wind blowing through the trees – before a wide grin breaks out across Gojo’s face, its absolute natural radiance banishing the darkness around you in a way a billion suns could never do – your grandmother’s flimsy paper lanterns or your vain guests’ mountains of gold and gems nothing but tiny specks of dust to the constellation of stars his joy reveals to you. 

And in that instant, as Gojo presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and wraps his arms around you, excitedly describing the new dessert café he discovered on his last mission and the matcha eclairs you just can’t not try – you swear to yourself that you will do anything to keep that blinding beauty of his smile unharmed – even throw away your life, if that’s what it takes. 

[I'M LOW-KEY ASHAMED OF THIS LMAOOO]

▸ MASTERLIST

[ladycamillewrites]

I hope I'm doing this right..

Robert Laing for the drabble request...a bit spicy maybe? Only if you're feeling it.

Thank you. 💚

▪️ Gif drabbles day 4

(18+ suggestive, language ≈600 words)

It's party time

“Laing?” you yelled down from Charlotte's balcony on the 26th floor of the notorious high rise.

Tonight’s party was going to be the event of the month and took place only four stories above in a mere hour. Of course you had already put on some makeup but before you would dedicate your attention to your lavishly filled closet, you needed to make sure your handsome neighbor would be ready as well. 

You leaned over the balustrade, eyes torn open as you could swear you got a glimpse of the doctor's notorious talent lingering between his thighs. Oh, those thighs glistened so deliciously in London's evening sun, every ridge of his thick muscles highlighted by a sinful shadow. 

“Yes, darling?” he smiled sheepishly, watching your jaw being clenched back shut and your natural blush sweetly adding to the makeup. 

“Are you- are” you stammered awkwardly while greedy eyes traveled every define line of his athletic form. God, Laing exuded pure, elegant masculinity it would’ve destroyed your panties if you would be wearing some. 

Those ocean blues stared right back at your propped up cleavage, full on display since the silky, orange bathrobe wasn’t too rich with fabric.

You nearly had to shower again after Robert, allegedly the best lay in the whole building, greedily licked his lips, gaze fixed on your half exposed breasts. 

“You were saying?” he eventually asked, looking directly in your eyes, suave lust sparkled among blue hues. 

“Are you coming to pick us up in thirty minutes?” Charlotte answered for you, joining you on the balcony and taking in the sight of her best one night stand ever.

They were still friends, of course.

“How could I forget, ladies?” Robert's sharp features were contorted in a sly grin, a subtle wink greeting you before he disappeared inside. 

You were panting like a race horse now, the dress choice somehow magically vanished from your list of problems. “You need to let him fuck you, baby. I swear he’s talented” your brunette cousin mused and dragged you back inside. 

“How do I look?” You chirped proudly, spinning as you finally stepped out in the living room where everyone was awaiting you with bottles of white wine clinging impatiently. 

And there he was again, his expensive cologne and the scent of medic disinfectant invaded your sensitive nostrils as the suggestive look on Laing's face suited him exactly like the tailor made dress shirt with that damn grey pants. He oozed graceful dominance, sitting manspread on Charlotte's couch.

“Like a whore” Richard grinned amusedly, earning a chiding scoff from Helen whose baby bump grew and grew. 

“That’s a good thing for a party here, isn’t it?” you tried to defend yourself by beginning sway your hips to the booming music that echoed through the whole building.

“You fucking fire, girl” Charlotte cheered while Helen was strongly disagreeing and halfway bound in an argument with her protesting husband. He was devouring your curves like a sex-starved teenager but you only cared about one man’s opinion.

“What do you say, Doctor Laing, huh?” you cooed stepping closer between his thick thighs. The Brit loved your angelic voice especially if it delivered his name so wantonly.

A greedy scrunch of his nose flashed while he took his time to let those narrowed steel blues take in every inch of you. Turned on but dominantly composed. As always when he wasn’t drunk and having fun.

“Fuck, what a sight to see. If you don’t hide well at that party I’m afraid I’ll come for you and fuck you against the next wall”.

Was it a cold threat or a heavenly promise in his gravelly whisper? 

You were soon to find out…

-♠️-

Taglist @holdmytesseract @silverfire475 @muddyorbs @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @vbecker10 @mochie85 @toozmanykids @xorpsbane @loz-3 @yukio369 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr

[loorain]

Sims 4 Fontenot Legacy - The Big Date

After another long day putting in work at the restaurant, Sabrina's date night finally comes around. They meet Beau at a Western-style bar for good drinks, good food, and good company.

Beau: ...I just don't get it.

Sabrina: I know it's confusing, it was confusing for me too-

Beau: I mean, broiling just doesn't seem like a good use of the oven when you can just fire up the grill!

Sabrina: It has its purposes, but I don't use the function much myself either.

Beau: No one likes having to turn the oven on if they don't have to. I think there are just better ways to do it.

The evening progresses as the two talk about anything and everything.

And Sabrina keeps the drinks flowing...

Which eventually leads them to the dance floor...

Which escalates before they even have a moment to even think about it.

Sabrina hardly recalls the moment they and Beau ended up back at his place. "Still living in that townhouse" they muse, but the thought disappears as they sit on his bed — an upgrade from his college years — and feel his lips against their own.

Soon enough, the sun begins rising on a fresh day. It's safe to assume neither slept much that night, the sun reminding them of that fact.

Sabrina: Well... that was fun.

Beau: Yeah. It was.

The two stare long and hard at each other, milking in every moment. In this moment, all the struggles they've gone through, miscommunications and misunderstandings, they all seem like leaves in the wind, fleeting and growing ever-so distant. It prompts Sabrina to speak up again.

Sabrina: Being here with you again... it brings back a lot of memories. Mainly good ones.

Beau: Same goes for me.

Sabrina: Of course, you had a cheap single-person bed then. Quite the little upgrade you've managed in here. Still reeks of a bachelor pad though.

Beau chuckles.

Beau: You know me, never had much of an eye for interior design.

Sabrina: Yet, this place still always felt homey even despite that.

Sabrina scoots a little closer and wraps their arms around Beau.

Sabrina: I really meant it when I said I wanted to build back to what we once had. And after tonight, I think we're gradually getting there.

Beau: I would have to agree with that sentiment.

Sabrina: I know I've been wishy-washy in the past, and I'm sorry. I hope you can understand where I was coming from. I've gone through a lot. Now that the restaurant is up and running, and Juno is aging up, I'm feeling like I'm finally getting ahold of my life. I have room for you now. And I want to make you a priority alongside everything else. Beau... I want to end our break. Is that... something you want too?

Beau: I won't ever lie and say I wasn't hurt by you. You've managed to break my heart twice already.

Sabrina's face falls a little, guilt etching into their features.

Beau: But even despite that, we've had so many good times. No one makes me laugh like you do, or grin from ear to ear hearing them talk about flambés and beef wellingtons. I've watched you blossom from a wild 20-something college student to a business owner and parent. Your devotion to your family and, most importantly, yourself is honestly inspiring. So even though there have been some bad times, we have a true bond, and with effort and awareness, we can fix things. Let's try again. For real this time.

Sabrina excitedly grabs his hand.

Sabrina: You really mean that?

Beau: I definitely do. I love you, Sabrina. Always have.

Sabrina: I love you too, Beau. I'm sorry I haven't always shown you that.

Beau: Water under the bridge. Let's just move forward with each other from this point forward, yeah?

Sabrina nods enthusiastically.

Sabrina: Yeah. I'd like that.

[ducknotinarow]

[2k3]

The sun had set, the ocean calm, and the scent of sea salt thick. There weren't any humans around, which is exactly what Donatello and Raphael needed as they sat at the docks, merely watching the few boats disappear into the horizon. Don was sat down on the wooden panelling, feet dangling over he quietly stared at nothing. He breaks the silence, eventually,

"I see why you like it here Raph, it's very calming."

It's more an observation on Donatello's part, voice near drowned by the sea. He doesn't look their way, for another moment, Don soon smiling gently to himself as he finally, fully, acknowledges Raph. A softness to their unseen eyes, he looks up to them,

"Hey Raph?" He starts up, waiting a moment before he speaks his thought, "Thank you...for always taking care of me."

| Muse Interaction [part 1]

It was a sound Raph loved maybe the most out of the many he could list. The soft wading sound of ocean wave pushing in and pulling back out. Washing up against the wooden structure of the docks the sound of boats tethered down, creaking a bit as the waded in the water. The smell of the salt air filled his nose as he was just sat on the end of the section of the docks pier long left to be unused. It was Raphael's hidden gem one could say, with how often he would come right here. It was Raphael's favorite spot in the whole wide city no matter what was going on. A fright with Leo? Mikey getting under his shell? the docks was he place to run and hide. Anger so over flared that fighting anyone might be too dangerous to risk? He came to the docks till he was clam once more. Sometimes even just just to sit here when he had the spare moment to be alone this is where Raphael always found himself. Something about watching the boats on the ocean waves rocked back and forth as they ventured out towards the horizon.

Though he wasn't alone tonight. Don was right beside him, Raphael made sure to sneak a look towards his twin brother sitting the same as he was feet dangling over the edge, and eyes looking out towards the open ocean before them. Raphael still had no clue what happened back at the lair. One second he was resting in his hammock taking advantage of the fact the place was near empty only other one around was Don, but everyone sort of assumed he was going to be tied up in his lab. So, they didn't bother with letting him know where anyone was going to be. Even Raph still tried from a night out figured he could take the chance for a good needed nap. only to wake and find Donnie well having a freak out. Woken by Donnie clearly shouting out in distress, left as nothing more then a pile on the floor. Shaking like a leaf as if he had just seen a ghost or maybe worse. That whole twin thing was more than Raph and Donnie being the middle children. They seemed to share a bond between them and in that moment? Raphael could feel like Donnie was lost.

As if Donnie couldn't make heads or tails on where he was. A deep seated fear and panic. Like Donnie was in such a state of panic his body near acting like he was dying. Raph had no idea what to do in that moment. He never seen Donnie like that before. Don often always was so clam and collected well he made it out like that. Raph could sometimes have a hint at more going on. But, even he wasn't some Donatello whisper. Once Don was at least able to get up on his own feet. Raph suggested they get out for air. Not sure where to take them he brought them here. To his favorite place.

"I see why you like it here Raph, it's very calming."

Donnie finally broke the silence between them and Raph let out the breath he hadn't realized he been holding in this whole time till that very moment. So this was a good idea then? Raph smiled from the relief. the image of Donnie was so fresh in his mind, they had clearly been scared but it wasn't the kind of scared Raph knew. Fear of some enemy coming to attack him that Raph could keep away from them. Sure he could ask but well Don and Raph had a thing in common fuck all four them were pretty bad about it. They all kept things to themselves. But Don? Don was maybe the worse the opposite end from the resident hot head. even now Donnie hadn't said a word about had happened back there.

Raph had no idea what to do back there in the lair. As Donnie didn't even seem to noticed that Raph was there. The whole time even able to hear them call for him. Don was okay he was safe and sat beside him. So, why did it feel like Raph had failed at protecting his brother? Twins or not Don was still younger so it was Raph's job to look after him just as much as it was to look out for Mikey too. He didn't bring just anyone here to the docks but he figured maybe the salt in air would help, or the cold that blew in off the waves. Anything that would hit his brothers senses so they could maybe take notice where they were now?

"It's my favorite place ya know?" Raph answers back now himself unsure what else to do or say in the moment. They don't do this whole talk about feeling things. So how can he even do that for his own twin? that thought gutted him, a fast sharp jab breaking past his shell. "Dad brough' me here once when I was out scavenin' wit' him" It was always easier to only take one of the four turtles with him back them when he had to make trips to the surface. Even easier all alone but that was hard to make happen getting them to agree to taking turns had been a miracle in of it's self after all. "I think we we're hidin' actually but ya know Splinter he didn' want me to be scared or somethin' told me we were jus' takin' a break. His bones were tried or somethin' 'ike that ya know?" Raph recalled. And well yeah Raph was a bit scared not like he admit to that. A child can sense a shift in their parent. To Raphael Splinter was the toughest person to exist he was the greatest fighter and would protect his sons from anything. If Raph was scared he ran to dad for those reasons. He recalled clinging to his dad when they ushered Raph to their hiding place. Turning his head a little he aimed a finger out to point to a spot not too far away. Just below the peir where the sand sat undisturbed outside begin a little damp from the moisture in the air.

"Right about there we sat for i dunno felt 'ike hours but it passed by fine. We sat and looked out to the boats. Splinter told me they were likely cargo ships takin' stuff out far across the ocean to all kinds of places. I asked him what other places." Raph was just a kid he only knew what he had seen after all like the sewer tunnels and bits of New York. "He told me 'bout Japan, England and heck a lot of places that were just past the ocean. Told me how different many of them were even from where we 'ived." It made Raph long to explore and see more. Why was Raph telling Donnie this? he guessed the same reason Splinter did all those years ago for him. Raphael wanted to take Don's mind off of what ever had scared him.

"Aye still come out here and sit 'ike this wonderin' where the ships are headin' out to next. How far out will they travel. Sometimes I keep track of how long one been gone till it comes back." Why though? because sometimes Raphael imagines himself hopping on to a boat one day. On those days things are just too much for him, when that fog in his mind grew too thick. When his mind was heavy and his mood was so fowl. Raph thought about it so much it nearly sounded like a plan he just needed the right push to take action on. "I'll spend hours out here even. It's pretty quite and I can stay out pretty open. It's an escape I guess."

"Hey Raph?"

"yeah?" Raph answered with meeting his brother's gaze, their expression was soft. Clam once again a look Raph knew a bit better to handle. He felt the ease in his twin and it brought clam to himself in turn. That's a good sign then, so Raph did do good then? in the least he did right by Don?

"Thank you...for always taking care of me."

This was why he never followed through. Much like these boats, Raph had things that tethered him down to keep him from drifting out into the ocean. If he lost even just one of them? he be left to the ocean's mercy. Raph dished out a punch to his brother's arm, affection from Raph was a tad different flavor than most.

"I got ya back brainaic." Raph chuckled out after before setting his hands back behind himself as he leaned back slightly to enjoy how the moon and stars reflected on to the water. "side's that's my job Don lookin' out for ya. No matter what I do that's why I do it. So ya don' gotta thank me for somethin' i'll always do al'ight?" He just wished they tell him what freaked them out maybe he could do more for them. Well he was fine now that's all that mattered to Raph, as he closed his eyes a moment and recalled sitting in Splinter's lap for hours well they told him stories. "Ya know i've swipe stuff from a few of these ships for ya a few times." he says chuckling like the troublesome gremlin he could be. Eyes opening as he turned a bit to look at them to tell them one of those few times. He wasn't sure how long they would sit here but they would for however long Don needed.

[redemptioninterlude]

💌 //for rue

what was said about meme ( accepting ) + @sunxsin // ling 💌 for a letter my muse would write to yours.

Ling, Ling, Ling!

You're probably thinking, where the hell is Rue and why is this bed so empty and why is there this letter instead of like, us exchanging texts because I'm the only one who gets up early between the two of us. But hear me now!!! There's a reason behind it. And you're probably gonna like it... I hope.

Okay but like, you also have to follow the plan here. Like don't roll off and disappear into the sun or anything, I left you like, your usual morning drink and whatever so there's no excuse. I might have told Julie to come by and hang out too. I don't know. It's like, gonna be great.

Now I know your second thought here is like. But I want to know. And maybe you're thinking you're gonna pick up your phone and start telling me to tell you what the hell is up but UNFORTUNATELY FOR YOU, you're gonna need to be patient and wait. Who knows. Maybe this is my revenge or whatever.

But whateverrrrr, okay, like, this is gonna be super worth it, and we're gonna have like, a ton of fun tonight when we go to this whole... festival... whatever thing tonight, okay? So just. Chill out. Hang on. And I'll see you soon, okay?

Enjoy laying around in bed! - Rue

[sallysoot]

  ↱ INVENTION OF A LEGEND. | I ↲

the people of your village present you as a blood offering to an ancient deity that slumbers atop a mountain. in the act of your sacrifice, you find that you have everything to gain.

[ pairing ; god!technoblade x gn!reader ] [ stats & warnings ; 2.5k, second person, no real warnings but some general like... fear and distress in the setting! ] [ notes ; HERE WE GO!!!! the first installment in the god!techno au. i hope you all enjoy, i’m super excited to have it starting for real! <3 ]

          whispers dance through the streets of your hometown, bouncing from one set of lips to another with hushed tones and sideways glances. the late summer sun is blazing hot on your skin; it reminds you that the season will soon near its close with the harvest. the afternoon’s sweltering warmth beads sweat down your back, and it feels like something crawling down your spine. shaking off the feeling, you tear a piece from a warm yeast loaf next to you. every bit of bread you have eaten in your life was made with flour ground in a bloody millstone. metaphorically, that is, but it still makes the taste a bit sour.

          with eyes searching around the town square, you wonder whose face will soon disappear for good. your mouth suddenly goes dry, and you drink down a few gulps of water from the pouch at your hip to get the bread past the lump in your throat. unease prickles on your arms as you think there’s a chance the one who disappears could be you.

          the town has been the only place you’ve ever known. so you know, of course, what the harvest will bring. for every grain that grows perfectly in its stalk, there is a life that has been exchanged for it. a citizen of your village will be handed over to a god that no one has seen in centuries, but whose existence nonetheless strikes fear into the quivering hearts of everyone around you. elders still speak with shuddering voices of a summer that the leaders of the town had decided to offer no sacrifice to him. locusts, blood pooling in the water well, starvation and violence nearly leveling the place you were born into. in the end, they say, the town offered the entirety of the council as a sacrifice to make amends for their foolish ways.

          everyone agrees that the moment the escorts had returned from the peak, there were screams loud enough to be heard at the base of the mountain. and as soon as they had stopped, so too did the chirping locusts and water running red. since then, no one has dared to suggest forgoing the honor of your god. legends will speak of him as a terrifying beast, with cloven hooves that could split the earth in two and ivory tusks forever stained in the blood of uncountable forefathers, matched to eyes as dark as spilled ink. you wonder if any of that is true.

         a voice calls your name from across the square. you recognize a friend, holding up a red and gold banner and motioning for you to come over. right, you’re supposed to be decorating for the festival tonight, not musing over the legend that shapes your entire village. you tuck your bread away in your satchel and abandon the porch step to join them there. idle conversation isn’t enough to assuage the sickness you feel, knowing that the festival is little more than a premature wake for a life not yet chosen to be taken. the ceremony at the end will decide that fate. selfishly, you pray to one of the more merciful gods in your domain that it will not be yours.

                    hours later, as crickets sing along to the music on stage, you take in the sight of your village lit up in shades of red and glinting gold in torch light. though the festitivites have been grand, with much food and wine and dancing to be had, the closer it draws to a close the quieter those around you become. less friendly chatter, more uneasy shifting and conversations gone dead quiet. the last song finishes on a high note, just before the council takes the stage over instead.

          no one says a word. it doesn’t even sound as though they’re breathing, and the night goes just as silent as you in fear of what’s to come. no gentle breeze or ambiance, only the silence and the stone faces on stage. 

          the oracle steps from behind your leaders, taking center stage and staring out over the crowd. “the spirits have made their decision,” she says, beginning her recitiation of the lines you have heard as many years as you’ve been alive. “they have told me who must take on the honorable sacrifice of preserving our lives. this offering will appease the god of bloodshed, so that we might see no more spilled in our own streets. he will bless us as thanks for our loyalty, and we will eat through the winter in memory of a beloved friend who took upon themselves the burden of this sacrifice.”

         you glance around you, finding the eyes of your friend in the crowd. they nod at you, and you nod back. your jaw shifts forward, steeling you as the oracle pauses before handing out her death sentence. a shaking, wrinkled hand raises to point in the crowd. you stare into her weathered face as her finger stops on you, and she says your name.

          my name? no, that wasn’t possible. she meant someone else, or you’d misheard. the oracle was old, anyway, so you weren’t even certain she could see your face in the night from such a distance. that was all. she’d meant to mark someone else. everyone’s eyes turn to you, wide but unmistakably relieved that it wasn’t them.

          if she said anything else, you were too busy collapsing to the soft grass beneath you to hear it.

           the rest of the night is a haze. accomplices of the council drag you away and you don’t resist, can’t resist with a limp body and detached expression. elderly women herd you away into a large tent, and you see the silhouettes of guards caught in the fire light standing outside. you know it is so there’s nowhere for you to run.

          you exist in a state of shock as they strip you of your clothes, plunging you into a hot, fragrant bath. someone is scrubbing every bit of grime from your fingernails whiie another woman rubs oils into your scalp, and it’s those sensations that eventually draw you back to reality.

          your eyes drift to the elder massaging lotion into your hands, and you’re speaking in a voice that sounds strangely blank for the situation you’re in. “...has anyone ever come back, from the mountain?”

          the woman tenses, and her hands go still on yours for a moment. “no,” she confesses, squeezing your hand in an attempt to comfort you, “never.”

          numb, you slump your head back and stare at the pattern of the tent’s fabric above you. never. 

          you wonder why it is that they pamper you this way, just for you to be sent to your doom. does a god of blood and famine really care if you’re clean before he kills you? perhaps it is to thank you, for what you are about to lose for the sake of the village. your life for theirs. you don’t think you’re wrong to be angry, furious even, but the feeling is quiet and muted as numbness stays rooted in your chest. when they coax you out of the bath, you don’t even feel the cold on your skin. a part of you thinks of running, just to see how far you can get before they catch you. you don’t, no matter how much you want to. you let them dress you in luxurious clothing and sparkling gold jewelry instead of taking off naked into the night. rubies and sapphires catch the light of the fires around you, and you stare into the cut of the gems on your wrist. does he keep this stuff? does he have a sick collection of precious things taken from hundreds of bodies over the years? when you are guided from the tent, everyone you know is standing silent vigil outside. their eyes are not amused, they make no mockery of your suffering, but the pity that you see feels like an insult from the very people that had put you there. two guards stand tall on either side of you, and one nudges you forward.

          the crowd parts to let the three of you pass. you hear murmurs of ‘thank you for your sacrifice’ as you walk by, and it takes everything in your not to retort with something bitter. the line of townsfolk ends at the edge of the village. your legs feel heavy as you hesitate to step over the threshold, feeling in your gut that the moment you have stepped over it, you will never return. the oracle stands a little distance ahead, and she reaches out to you as you pass by. she clasps your hands in hers, sympathy painted across her aged features.

          “the prophecy i was given spoke of you,” she says, “but it spoke differently of you. though what it means is beyond my understanding, i am certain it is far more powerful than any i have received before. walk forward with bravery.”

          with nothing left to say, you just nod at her and let your hands drop back to your sides when she lets go. anything she tells you means little now, as your escorts guide you forward. the peak of mountain is no short distance away, yet the journey feels so short, as though you had only just blinked and found your lifetime ending. only the ache in your legs reminds you that you are still alive. the sun begins to rise as you reach the crest of the final hill; hours of the journey have passed in a silent instant. your eyes scan the mountain around you, and you realize with a pang of dread that you are not seeing dry tree branches lying on the ground.

          bones. human bones. people who have died here, just as you are going to. you realize with a sick twinge of humor that none of them glisten in gold; he has taken the jewelry from their corpses. your escorts stop, taking a few steps back.

         for the first time, you find the words to say again. “hey- hey don’t- don’t leave me here!” you plead, panic setting in. “come on, just- just take me back down the mountain, let me run away and you can say i’m dead, no one will ever see me again-”

         one of them shakes his head. your voice breaks, desperate as you beg, “please. i don’t want- don’t let this happen to me. we’re friends, aren’t we? we- we grew up together!” you take a single step forward, and the other pulls the sword from his belt with a sorrowed expression.

          “i’m... sorry,” he says. there is a thunderous sound that shakes the earth under you, and when the two of them exchange a terrified look and start to run, you find that your legs must have taken root in the ground because you can’t make yourself follow. you want to go with them. still, you’re frozen in such terror that all you can do is drop to the ground, on your hands and knees in what you hope looks like reverence but probably just looks more pathetic.

         you can feel and hear someone approaching you, with heavy steps that make you shiver where you kneel. a pair of hooves far bigger than any animal you’ve ever seen stop before you. illustrations in books you’d read growing up flicker through your mind. yesterday, you’d wondered if they were true. and a part of you still wants to know. needs to know. you want to look at your death before it comes, this thing that no one has seen and lived. you might not live, but you have to see. 

         drawing up every ounce of bravery you can, you tilt your head up to look at the god. when you do, you find that he is already looking at you, too. his gaze is like amber and honey when it meets yours. and words are spilling from your lips before you can think to swallow them back down with the bile in your throat, as you say, “y-your eyes aren’t black.”

          the god’s expression goes from a stone-firm scowl to something like surprise. he has tusks, as the stories said, though you see no sign of blood upon him. he is dressed well, in regal furs and gold. when he opens his mouth to speak, it jingles a string of gold and diamond wrapped around his tusks. “no, they aren’t,” he affirms in a voice like rolling thunder.

          he stares at you, and you cannot possibly force yourself to look away, lest you break the spell of stillness that has come over him. a gust of wind rustles his furred cape. the god moves his hand, at last, and you squeeze your eyes shut in an instant. when no pain surges through you and you find yourself able to let out another breath, you crack one open to see that he has extended his hand to you. 

          you hesitate, eyes darting from his hand up to his face to seek guidance. “come,” he says, beckoning you with his fingers. shaking, you reach up to take his hand. he pulls you up with all the ease of lifting a feather and you right yourself on quivering knees. “i think i would like to talk to you, for a while. what is your name?”

          talk? you echo in your mind. a few seconds later, you manage to squeak out your name to him, and he nods. “what should i... call you?” you ask. how foolish you sound, asking as if he is doing anything more than toying with you before he ends your life.

          “what is it that the humans call me?” he inquires, curiously. he begins to walk forward and, with no other move to make, you stumble a few steps next to him.

           “the blood god. we... do not refer to you by a name.”

           “ah. i see. then you may call me technoblade.” at the same moment you decide to stop staring at your feet on the ground and glance up, he does the same to peer down at you. you lock eyes with him, and feel yourself shocked when it isn’t you who looks away first-- it’s him. almost as if he’s too shy to look at you for long.

          of course, you know that isn’t the case. this is an ancient god that feasts on the souls of mortals, or whatever; he’s not shy. you follow in silence as he guides you further up the mountain, until you reach a large wood cabin surrounded by snow. you hadn’t even realized how cold you were at this altitude until your sandals start to sink down into the snow. of course, you’re lucky to be alive to feel it. you have no intentions of complaining about the cold. technoblade leads you to the door, and he seems to stall there for a moment, before he makes up his mind to open the door for you. it’s made for someone of his stature; you’re only about half the size of the doorframe. “go in,” he instructs.

          you stare at the threshold of the door for a moment. just like your village, you hesitate to step over it, because you think that once you have done it, you will never be able to do it again. even so, the mountain’s peak is cold, and you have nowhere else to go. with one more deep breath of the thin air around you, you walk in, and try not to flinch at the door slamming shut behind you.

          for all of your fear, you still think one thing with clarity: i’m still alive.

[constancelaufeydottir]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Neighbour!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mentions of knife, blood, cursing, murder, mention of cannibalism, dark!Bucky(?), major character death, slight smut, fluff.

Summary: Bucky set his eyes on his sweet and cute neighbour who had suffered from a loss recently, determined to make her his.

Word count: 4.3k

a/n: This is my entry for @ambrosiase hotel indigo writing challenge. It’s my first ever writing challenge, and I had a lot of fun writing this! Honestly, I'm really grateful for this challenge because it motivates me to finish this wip that has been sitting in the draft for too long. Thank you for this lovely challenge mae ♡♡

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. If you see any mistakes, do let me know!

Room ⥤ Modern muse

Room service ⥤ neighbour + criminal

“Oh that poor thing.”

Bucky whipped his head in the direction of the voice. It was Mrs. Lockwood, his neighbour on the right.

“Huh?” He didn’t mean to voice out his confusion, but his brain was somewhat short-circuited, barely able to function when his sight was filled with you, and you only.

“That sweet girl over there,” Mrs. Lockwood was referring to you, his sweet neighbour to the left he was staring at, before the old lady came interrupting.

He had been staring for 5, 10 minutes maybe? He swore he wasn’t a pervert, you were just a sight for sore eyes, the healer of the wounds in his soul.

“What about y/n?” He asked, curious to listen to what his neighbour would say about the other neighbour. Also, he was fairly new to the neighbourhood, having just moved in last month, he ought to catch up with the gossip.

“Her boyfriend went missing a few months back, poor girl was devastated. Police suspected it was murder, even suspected y/n!” The old lady shook her head, casting pitying glances at the oblivious girl in the sundress, bathing under the sun with a book in her hand. “She’s such a sweet girl, how could they have suspected her?”

Bucky glanced at you, heart racing when you caught him looking. You shyly waved at him, a small smile plastered on your face hiding the underlying sadness of the loss of your loved one. His hand felt clammy when he raised one of them to wave back, his usual flirty self vanished whenever you were involved in the equation.

“Boy, you are in love aren’t ya,” Mrs. Lockwood teased, “I say go for it. Our lovely y/n definitely needs some lovin’ after what she’d been through and young man, I think you are the right person.” Her eyes crinkled as she patted Bucky encouragingly on the shoulder, like a loving mother cheering up her son.

Bucky, who was usually composed, blushed furiously. That big brain of his still hadn’t regained its functions thus he found himself unable to stop Mrs. Lockwood when she hollered at you.

Clearly immersed in your book, you jumped a little when you heard your name being called.

“Y/n, this young man would love to take you out on a date, what d’ya say?” His eyes widened at the accusation, though it was true that he wanted to date you, he just needed time to gather the guts to ask you out.

He saw you put down your book, walking towards him and Mrs. Lockwood. You were a front yard away from him, shielding the harsh sunlight from your eyes with your hands while leaning onto the fence.

“I’d love to,” you had to speak louder, and Bucky loved your voice as he only heard it only a handful of times now, often you were shy and quiet when you saw him.

“U-uhm, how about Saturday then,” He stuttered like a teenage boy who first received a love letter, suddenly forgetting how to speak, speech lost in the sea of disbelief and excitement, and affection.

You said nothing, only nodding and smiling at him, flashing those pearly whites.

“Great. 6pm. I’ll pick you up,”

“See you soon, James.” He watched as you walked away, a teasing smile on your face before you disappeared into the door. Gosh how he loved the way his name sounded on your lips, and he’d give anything to hear it again, and again.

Saturday came too soon, Bucky was not prepared at all. Well, he had done the reservations for the restaurant he’d planned to bring you to tonight, ironed out the creases and wiped off the non-existent dust on the dress shirt he would be wearing, so why was he nervous?

5:50 pm.

Call him old-fashioned or whatever, he’d prefer early to late and would love to escort you to his car. He stood in front of your porch, palm sweating and if his metal arm could secrete sweats, he was pretty sure it would end up like its counterpart.

You opened the door as soon as he rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, seeming eagerly waiting for him as he was for you.

He took in your outfit, the moderately revealing dress he liked, the one he saw you undress from, through his window countless times.

If it was possible to fall into a deeper love, he would.

The date couldn’t possibly be better than he imagined, it was perfect. Everything was great; the atmosphere of the restaurant, the quality of the food, and most importantly, you.

You were shy at first but opened up fairly quickly, telling him stories about you, and vice versa. You sympathized with him when he told you how he got the metal arm, your fingers grazing the delicate and intricate loops and lines on the metal surface.

His fingers were woven into yours halfway into the dinner, the cool metal fingers of his absently caressing your knuckles as you shared the story about your family, who disappeared mysteriously, then your ex-boyfriend, who went missing 5 months ago, like your family.

It was hard, talking about missing loved ones. Bucky could tell, by the way your hand unconsciously tightened, the lingering sadness in your eyes as you mentioned how happy you were before him. The way your tears were brimming in your eyes, threatening to glide down your face, it wrenched his heart, seeing how broken you were. He would try to pick up every broken piece of you in a heartbeat, mending them back together, fixing you until you were happy again if you would let him in.

He was kind of glad your ex-boyfriend was out of the picture, though it was a selfish thing to say. He desperately wanted to claim you, wanted to be your last and only boyfriend.

He’d been going on dates with you for a few months now. You were perfect, almost too perfect if he would say. You were practically his dream girl, so kind and generous. So sweet and loving. Pretty much everybody in this neighbourhood would agree with him and he sometimes wondered if he really deserved you. A beauty mingling with a beast. No one would ever want to see that, after all, even the beast turned into a handsome prince at the end of the fairytale.

Bucky wondered, if you found out what he did every night after you were asleep or what he took from your closet when you were away, would you still want him? If you found out the beast within him, would you still love him the same?

His thoughts were occupied and it wasn’t until the sharp pain in his fingers that he snapped out of his trance.

“Fuck!” You heard him cursing and went to him, gasping when you saw the streams of blood flowing from the deep cut from two of his fingers.

Hastily reaching out for the clean cloth from one of the drawers, you placed it over the wound, applying pressure on them.

The red quickly seeped through the pristine white cloth, two colours clashing as the red engulfed the white.

Bucky noticed you wincing at the red, gulping at the sight, head slightly turned away. It was obvious you were uncomfortable at the sight of blood, so he took the cloth himself and nudged you to wash the faint hint of blood on your palms.

“Sorry, now you might have to do this alone,” Bucky gestured at the ingredients on the counter, “and sorry for the cloth, blood stains are quite hard to get rid off.”

“Don’t you worry, a little hydrogen peroxide and the cloth will be as good as new,” Bucky let you tend to his wounds and pushed him towards the living room where he would sit at the couch for the next hour while you were busy at the kitchen preparing dinner.

While he was in the living room, he took in the interior of your house. He never got to take a close look, as he always had to sneak in when it was dark. The beige colour walls, cream coloured furnitures, books arranged perfectly on the floating shelves. The pictures and art hung on the clean walls, not one of them is crooked. The square coffee table with only the remote and a display plant on it, and when he shifted himself to sit at the center of the couch, did he realize the coffee table was lined up perfectly in the middle of the TV and the couch.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, he didn’t depict you as a meticulous person. No wait, whenever he went out with you, you’d arrange the plates to sit between the utensils perfectly. When you get boba, the straws must precisely be in the center of the cup, and if you missed it, your eyebrows would furrow in annoyance subconsciously.

His eyes wandered over to your figure in the kitchen and was not surprised to find you wiping and hanging the cutting board on the ceramic wall, adjusting it with your fingers so it wouldn’t be crooked while waiting for the stew to simmer.

You caught him looking at you and threw a smile at him in which he reciprocated, then continued to let his eyes wander through your living room. This could easily be an IKEA showroom, he thought.

Another week went by, Bucky found himself more and more in love with you, if that was possible in the first place as if he didn’t already dedicate all the space in his heart for you.

You were both in the kitchen again. This time however, he was busy mixing the sugar, flour, and cocoa powder mixture, with you snuggling behind him, arms circling his waist as you watched him do the magic.

He felt sorry for not helping last time so he was making up to you by baking some brownies.

As you both were cleaning up, brownies baking in the oven, Bucky turned to you.

“Hey, I never asked, but what do you do for a living?” He questioned nonchalantly while wiping the huge plastic bowl.

The wet spatula fell from your grip, dropping into the sink of water, droplets of soapy liquid flecked on your shirt.

“O-oh, i’m an artist!” You let out a laugh to conceal your flustered state, “Aspiring artist to be exact.”

“An artist,” he hummed, as if chewing onto the meaning of the word, “could you show me your works?”

Your head whipped towards his direction, mouth parted in surprise. Nobody has ever appreciated your dream. Your family, your friends, your ex-boyfriends, all of them claimed that being an artist would lead you to being unsuccessful, and you deemed to prove them wrong.

“Yes, yes, of course,” you were overjoyed. Abandoning the half-washed utensils, you clasped your hand around his wrist and dragged him to follow you towards the second floor, into a room hidden behind another beige coloured door, where you kept all your works.

Rows of headless mannequins clothed in white dresses painted with red blossoms appeared before him as you pushed open the door.

He was utterly mesmerized. He trailed his gaze across the display, a smile painted his lips as he deduced that every piece of them was unique. No two dresses had the same pattern.

Some had plain red blossoms splattered on it, some had dark red waves littering on the bottom hem; some with brush strokes of red. There was also a different tone of red, bright and dark or somewhat in between.

“Wow, this is just … amazing!” He found himself at a loss for words, “are those blood?”

“Yes, they are.”

“I thought you don’t like blood?” Bucky teased.

“These are animal blood. I’m fine with it as long as it’s not coming out from a human,” you retorted.

He chuckled. Once again admiring the intricate patterns of your works, marvelling at how talented and perfect you were. His heart sank at the thought of the question he frequently found himself asking, how can someone so perfect like you end up with someone less than perfect like him.

You apparently noticed his changed demeanor as you inched yourself closer to pull him into an embrace, placing your chin on his chest, eyes searching for his sad blue ones.

“Are you okay?” He hugged you tighter, sighing.

“I’m fine. I just … I think you’re perfect and you’re everything I've ever wanted. But I'm not sure if I'm perfect enough for you.”

“Oh James, you’re more than enough. I assure you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted too.”

Bucky felt like his heart was filled to the brim with adoration, butterflies erupted from his stomach. Your assurance was everything to him, keeping his wandering soul anchored and he was grateful for it, grateful for your existence. The more the reason to cage you by his side so you couldn’t ever leave him.

His lips were on yours the next second, his grip on your waist tightened as you deepened the kiss, tongue finding his; busy hands sliding from his stomach to his shoulder.

Both of you were drowning in this ecstasy, unwilling to part away from each other’s touch.

The loud ding of the oven startled the both of you. Momentarily parting from each other, you stared at him with a heated glance. His eyes were hooded, filled with lust, desire.

“Fuck the brownies,” you whispered, molding your soft lips on him once again, the hunger for each other far greater than the stupid brownies, “need you now.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, large hands cupping your bottom as you hopped and hooked your legs behind him, arms instinctively went to his shoulders for support.

He brought the both of you to your room, the one he was all too familiar with, the one with the same cream coloured theme which could definitely pass as another IKEA showroom judging by how perfect the layout was.

The only odd thing that stood out in this far too perfect room was the trail of scratch marks extending from the door frame to the wall outside of the room.

The deep scratch marks were somehow etched deep in his brain, he couldn’t let it go. It felt as if there was a dot of blank ink on a piece of white paper, and even though there was more white than black, you’d only be fixated on the dot of black.

He would ask you about the haunting marks on the wall and your fingers that were tracing patterns on his skin would falter, you’d give him the warm smile he loved while brushing it off saying it was the huge Dobermann your aunt owned which did that.

Even when he was balls deep in you, the vivid image of the scratch marks were there in his head, though you were quick to draw back his attention with a grind on his hips, both of your bodies covered with sheen of perspiration. Strands of your hair sticking to your body, but you pay no care to them as you rocked your hips, chanting his name over and over again like a mantra, like a prayer.

His eyes were on your fucked out state, his grip on you like steel. The cool surface of his metal arm contrasted with your hot flushed body as you chase your high like a traveller chasing the oasis in a desert, desperate for a quench of thirst.

Even when he was chasing the same high, vision blinding with bliss, the marks were still there and this time they were accompanied by the white dresses painted with red, and red only.

Bucky was always a doubtful person. Doubting every single decision he’d ever made. Doubting himself, doubting others. But there was one thing he was certain of, there was something less than innocent lurking underneath your skin. Of course, he was still head over heels for you but he was pretty adamant to find out the sinister in you, hoping it would answer his questions, mainly the recurring image of a certain mark.

Bucky was a lot of things, dumbass , dork, clumsy(per sam), but he was not stupid. Hell, he was far from stupid. Those scratch marks, definitely not the Dobermann.

You were a perfectionist, you couldn’t possibly leave the mark there and acted like nothing happened in the first place. He’d imagine if it was the dog, you’d probably have someone fix the dent the same day, unwilling to allow even a speck of blemish in your flawless house.

Bucky was a lot of things, and being a dumbass was definitely one of them as he was showing up on your porch in the evening unannounced.

He’d considered sneaking in like he used to do but he knew, he saw that you were still in the house. He couldn’t and wouldn’t jeopardize your relationship with him knowing he’d get caught.

He knocked on your door, hearing footsteps paddling, rushing to him.

As you opened the door, your eyes widened at the sight of an awkward Bucky. Although you were quick to throw him an unalarming smile, he still caught the nervousness in you.

There was something off with you. The disheveled hair, thin layer of sweat adorning the crown of your head, unknown wet liquid staining your shirt.

He caught a whiff of the strong smell of chemicals wafting through the door, it smelled a lot like bleach.

“I’m sorry,” he scratched at the back of his neck, “is this not a good time?”

“It’s fine, come on in.”

The smell of bleach invaded his nose the moment he stepped into your house, flooding and overwhelming his senses causing him to wince.

“Were you deep cleaning?”

“Yeah, I accidentally spilled some of the animal blood this morning. Had to use hell lots of hydrogen peroxide to get rid of them. Sorry for the smell.”

“No no, it’s okay. Let me just open the windows and door, okay?” He was getting a little light-headed now, desperately needing some fresh air. “Doll, you need to ventilate every time you use bleach, it’s harmful for your health to inhale all these fumes.”

You blushed at the term of endearment, yet wanting to blame him for not calling you that earlier.

He went over to open the windows, sighing contentedly at the waves of fresh air hitting his face as the wind blew in.

He felt your arms snaking around him, head leaning against his broad back.

“I love you, James. Wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“I love you too.” He turned around and hugged you, his chin propped on your head, not knowing you had a solemn expression on your face.

He’d spent the evening with you, watching TV on the couch with you in his lap. It was so mundane yet he’d never got bored of this, wanting to do this with you for the rest of his life.

Outside the window, the orange and yellow sky faded into darkness.

“Let’s order take out, how about Thai food?”

“I’ll cook,” you kissed him on the lips and got up from his lap before he could reply anything.

“Ok, you need help?” He heard a faint ‘no, it’s fine’ coming out of the kitchen followed by the clanking of pots and utensils.

His neck stretched to peek at your figure in the kitchen, too busy chopping up ingredients to notice he was no longer at the living room.

He made his way down the basement, where the pungent smell of the bleach was still lingering.

The wood creaked as he stepped on the stairs, announcing his arrival to the darkness surrounding the basement. The soft glow of light illuminated the large space, a wall of tins stacking on each other revealed to him. A few easels of different sizes were propped on the wall with several grey aprons hanging beside them.

He walked closer to examine the insane amount of tins. A small label that said Pig blood was stickered on the body of the white tin.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Do people really sell animal blood in metal tins, wouldn’t they go bad?

There were loads of questions in Bucky’s head, questions with answers only you could provide.

He noticed a chest freezer sitting in the corner of the basement and his legs brought him to it before he came to realize. The whole basement was so quiet he could hear the soft ringing in his ears, the racing of his heartbeat amplified as his hand inched towards the lid.

There was nothing in the freezer, to his surprise.

The empty freezer stared back at him, as if mocking his fruitless attempt. He was relieved, or disappointed, he couldn’t tell the difference and there was no point in distinguishing them now since you had nothing to hide. He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting to find in the freezer.

“Babe?” You stood behind him with an apron on, a knife in your hand, a second after he closed the door to the basement.

He leaned against the door frame, hand went to his head, eyes squeezed shut as he pretended he was having a headache.

“Felt dizzy all of a sudden, I was just making my way to the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay. I was just about to tell you dinner's almost ready,” a tooth-rotting smile was plastered on your face.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he watched as you walked away, letting out the breath he’d been holding. His palm was clammy, heart beating rapidly.

“I love you,” You placed your hand on his arm, eyes meeting his.

“I know, doll. I love you too.”

This was seconds before dinner.

“James, I love you.” You whispered, watching him giving you a grin before he stuffed the meatball into his mouth.

“Wow, I'm so loved today. It’s the secon- no, third time you’ve said ‘I love you’ to me today.” He grinned, heart bursting with love. “You know I love you too.”

This was mid-dinner.

“I love you so much, James.”

Bucky was getting suspicious of you. Were you hiding something, perhaps cheating on him? For there were no reasons for you to keep telling him you loved him even though he knew how much you loved him and vice versa.

“I love you,” you kissed his knuckles, “this might be the last time I get to say I love you, James.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your statement, mouth parting to question what you meant. Before he could voice out something, the world faded into nothingness.

A thin film of blurriness clouded his eyes when he opened them, Bucky had this feeling like he was drowning in a swamp and his whole body was bound.

Blinking furiously, he regained his vision. You were sitting on a chair leaning forwards while looking at him endearingly, your elbows propped on your knees, palms supporting your chin.

“Hello, my love,” you were smiling oh so sweetly. The same smile that got him mesmerized and head over heels, except this time he didn’t feel the warm fuzzy feeling exploding in his chest, this time it was the goosebumps crawling on his arms and the chill creeping up his spine.

Now everything made sense, every single of his questions was answered.

You looked down at his body, the one that was once full of life, full of love. You watched as his glassy blue eyes etched with fear quickly reduced into this grey lifeless orbs, still pretty but lacking the element of a beautiful soul.

You weep for him, mourn for him. Mourning the short duration of love shared between the both of you. Mourning for yourself, for falling too hard. Mourning for him who kept you always in his heart.

To be honest, you were a little hesitant to end his life, he was better than the last one. He was perfect, warm, kind, loving, gentle, but not perfect enough. He simply did not reach your expectations, and you, could not bear imperfections, even the slightest. The answer to his downfall was pretty easy, he was too close to the ugly truth. And despite you knowing his love for you outweighs his doubt and fear in you, you simply couldn’t risk it.

Your love for perfection exceeds your love for him.

The melodious music of your ringtone echoed in the ample space of the basement, you brought up your phone to your ears as you answered the call.

“Mrs. Lockwood? Yes. Of course. I did. No no no, I’ll do it for you this time. He would definitely taste delicious I assure you.”

Time to get to work, you sighed as you stood there with a white dress splattered with blood. How artistic, you thought.

You always loved this part of the process, you’d wear the whitest piece of dress you own whenever you work with your projects.

You loved how the blood peppered your clothes, forming blossoms of dark red flowers on the fabric.

You kept every single piece of them, because no two are the same. Every one of them tells a story, of men and women who loved you and who you loved, of those who were once a body with a soul.

Wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks, you gave Bucky one last loving look and the blade of your butcher knife came in contact with his once pink but now pale skin as you hummed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the basement, forming echoes.

A few blocks away, a baby cried, body covered in mucus. The tiny infant cried, each time louder than the previous, wailing his lungs out, as if mourning. For one soul born, another reaped.

[damn-stark]

Special to me too

This request contains season 4 spoilers!! Spoilers!!

Jean Kirstein x reader

Requested by anon “My question or request: Imagine you are sasha´s best friend and connie´s best friend too, since the first day you met. You are jean`s lover since you were 15. You met him too when you met sasha and connie and the others. Imagine you save sasha and get shot instead of her. you practically jump in her way and save her.”

Warning- Angst, mentions of violence and blood, slight swearing, fluff and just heartbreak :(

——

“Jean!” You exclaim whilst you stand behind Connie and Sasha on the airship, watching with anticipation as Jean finally makes his way above.

“Grab on!” Connie shouts as he and Sasha extend their hands out for Jean to take and pull him up onto the safety of the airship, easing your nerves at the knowledge that he was here now.

When he's fully stable on the floor, he meets your gaze and cups your cheek to assure himself you were here and fine, sharing a silent but assuring look with you before turning to Connie curiously. “Who’s left?”

“Still waiting on Lima Squad.” Connie informs him.

“As far as we know, there’s six casulities.” You add after Connie.

Jean drops his hand from your cheek and focuses his hardened gaze on the ground. “I see. Shit!”

Noticing his frustration, you try to assure him, but Floch interrupts you before you can try. “That’s nothing compared to the damage we did!” Said man thrusts his fist into the air and turns to the rest of your comrades, “it’s a huge victory!” The New Eldian Empires first battle ends in victory!”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah!”

You sigh at the scene caused by Floch and decide to ignore them so as to not ruin their celebration. Even if you knew that celebrating this early was never good luck.

“Tonight we celebrate in honor of our six fallen heroes!”

You roll your eyes and turn to crouch across from Sasha to keep a careful eye out the still open door, noticing Connie stands up and begins to wander off, while Jean stayed and refocused his gaze on the ground as he contemplated the scene before him, and the battle just fought. “First battle, huh? How many more till the fighting ends? Just how many have to die?”

Just as you’re about to go towards Jean, you feel an arm wrap around you and pull you with them; pulling Sasha and Jean as well. When you look to the side to identify who it had been you see it had been Connie—“anyways I’m just glad we survived again,” Connie adds, making you drop your stunned expression and keep beside him in silence as he continued with his assuring words. “It’s not very fair to the others, but you guys are special....to me.”

Your lips pull into a soft smile at Connie's kind words, and just like Sasha and Jean you let the comfortable silence wrap around you four.

Well that is until Jean breaks the silence and the moment with a snappy comment. “That hurts, idiot. Don’t hug us wearing hard-ass gear.”

You scoff and move to the side, smirking as Connie snapped back. “Excuse me, Jean?! You’re the idiot for always fussing over your tiny-ass beard!”

“Huh?”

You snort and Jean looks over his shoulder to shoot you a pointed gaze that you just reply with an innocent smile.

“That’s right!” Sasha chooses to interject, “why grow a beard if you can’t eat it?”

“Huh?!”

“Say are we eating soon?”

“Yeah,” you pitch in as you grab onto your stomach, “when are we? I’m starving!”

“Not till we reach the Island.” Jean answers you.

“What a useless leader you are.” Sasha quips.

“Do you like my beard, y/n?” Jean asks as he strokes his chin.

Connie and Sasha look at you and you keep looking at Jean to answer truthfully. “I think it suits you, I like it.”

“Of course you say that, y/n!” Connie remarks as he helps you to your feet. “He’s your boyfriend!”

You smile and throw an arm around Jeans shoulders, pulling him close to you to defend him. “So? Even if he was my friend I’d say I like it because he looks sexy with it.”

Sasha and Connie share a look and both gag making you chuckle.

Jean smiles and shoots a smirk to your best friends in front of you. “See she gets it.”

“You know who else has a beard now?” Sasha snickers as she stands up to fold her arms over her chest and stand next to Connie. “Eren. You think he looks sexy too, y/n?”

“Huh?!” You exclaim, “no! Ew! No!”

“That’s right he can’t pull it off like I do,” Jean retorts smugly. “He probably has fleas on his beard.”

“How long do you think it’s been since he’s washed his hair?” Connie wonders out loud.

You shrug, “who knows.”

——

“Did you hear that sound just now?” Sasha asks curiously with her attention over her shoulder.

You follow her gaze and see nothing, you only hear the loud commotion before you that made it impossible to hear much of anything else.

“Hey! Quiet down!” Jean exclaims to the group, only getting the opposite response from Floch.

“Make some noise! Victory!”

You roll your eyes and keep drifting your eyes over your shoulder as you begin to feel paranoid after what Sasha had pointed out.

“Isn’t lobov still out there?” You hear Connie ask Jean.

“No, I think he came aboard.”

“Then we should close—” before you could finish your sentence, from the corner of your eye you see someone unknown roll onboard with a gun in hand. Your eyes peel open and you notice that it’s a little girl; she lifts her gun and you follow where she points to, gasping as you see that it’s pointing at Sasha. You continue to act quick, without a sense of hesitation and push her out of the way, hearing a loud bang and feeling suddenly something sharp hit your stomach.

The sudden painful impact makes you fumble back and lose balance from one moment to the next and fall on the ground, with a hand gripping onto your stomach, over the throbbing wound that now affected you.

“Y/N!” You hear Sasha call out before falling on her knees by your side.

You draw in a deep inhale and blink slowly to look up to the ceiling and feel your pain heighten and your consciousness begin to slowly drift into darkness. You hear commotion around you, but the sound, the reality of what was happening didn’t register in your mind. You only barely manage to grasp Sasha and Connie over you.

“Y/N! Hey!”

“Hang in there! Hey!” Connie exclaims as she tries to tilt his head to him.

“Y/N! Y/N!” You recognize Jean's voice.

The pain you feel on your stomach begins to slowly numb now and your eyes drift to Jean now beside your head. You tug your lips into a faint smile and you reach for his cheek. “Hey...smile for me….don’t worry so much….we made it.” You swallow thickly and continue to feel your consciousness drift, you feel your eyes droop and the pain almost completely disappear. You roll your head to look up and slowly drop your hand from Jean’s cheek, barely capturing what your friends and boyfriend were saying beside you.

“Bandages, now! We’ve gotta stop the bleeding!

“Y/N! Make it to the Island!”

You breathe in another short and shallow breath and blink slowly once more. “You guys...are special...to me too.”

“Y/N, please!”

Once again you see Jean's face in front of you, yet your mind wanders off to somewhere warmer, and your smile tugs wider.

“The ocean…”

——

“...it’s beautiful isn’t it?” You muse as you breathe in the fresh salty air, watch the warm yellow sun reflect on the blue sparkling body of water. You smile as the warm colors of the unbelievable orange, yellow, pink and purple sunset cast over every inch of land and every part of your best friends, Jean and you.

“I could live here forever,” Sasha shares with a beaming grin.

“Me too,” you sigh as you throw yourself back and rest your head on Jean’s lap. “Let’s stay here.”

“And build a house,” Sasha continues as she rests her head on your stomach. “A farm house so we can raise sheep’s and cows.”

“A two story house so I can have a balcony,” Jean pitches in as he gently caresses your arm. “A balcony that overlooks the ocean so I can relax and drink with my girlfriend.”

You grin brightly and tilt your head up so you can admire him admiring the scene in front of you all.

“We can grow our own garden,” Connie adds as well, “grow fruits and vegetables.”

“Yes!” You agree, “and maybe we can hire Niccolo to cook our food.”

“Yes! Yes we can!” Sasha exclaims as she shoots up and tightl wraps her arms around Connie's neck.

Jean snickers and meets your gaze to show his playful and teasing expression. “Seems to me that someone is a little too excited to have our new friend over.”

You snort and smirk. “Hmm I see it too, seems potatoes aren't the only things she loves.”

“Huh?!” Sasha tilts her head around and stares at Jean and you with a pointed glare as she tightens her arms tighter around Connie's neck. “What are you two talking about?”

You shrug and sit up, choosing to answer nonchalantly. “I’ll give you a hint. You love Niccolo like I love Jean.”

“Huh!”

Connie snickers and pulls away from Sashas grip to add to the teasing. “We all see it, you look at him like you look at your food. It’s an easy observation.”

You nod in agreement, “I’ll give you some pointers on how to flatter him,” you clear your throat and pop a piece of fruit inside your mouth. “This is how I got Jean—tell him you like his hair, his eyes, his smile. Laugh when his jokes are funny and compliment his fighting skills.”

Jean smirks and nods, but Connie doesn’t really agree. “Didn’t it take you like five years to confess your feelings to Jean?”

You blink and shake your head, meeting Jean’s amused gaze and scoffing. “Maybe—”

“Actually I had to confess to her first and then she told me.” He interjected cockily. “I saw the way she looked at me and I made my move first.”

Your smile brightens and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Yes and I’m happy he did.”

Sasha and Connie meet each other’s gaze and share a knowing look and then pretend to gag. “Please spare us from that sappy stuff,” Sasha groans.

“Yeah we see enough of that everyday,” Connie adds lazily. “We get it you two love each other.”

“Don’t be bitter, Connie,” Jean remarks playfully, “it’s okay you’ll find someone soon too.”

“Regardless, Sasha,” you cut him off, “promise us, or me, that you’ll tell Niccolo how you feel.”

“Fine,” she sighs, taking the bottle of wine and chugging it.

You look back to the horizon and barely notice that the sun is completely gone. After the lighthearted conversation with your best friends you barely noticed that the only light casted over you now was from the light of the stars and moon.

The sight of the white moonlight and the endless glowing stars reflected on the ocean was breathtaking; “I could stay here forever,” you breathe out with a faint smile. “We still are planning to live here right? Together?”

[thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters]

Bathe in Sin

Summary: A stubborn Sam leaves the bunker and Lacey goes with him. After days of trying to get through to him, she decides on a different approach to help him blow off steam. 

Created for: @cockslut-padalecki​‘s Decade Under the Influence Challenge

Prompt: “Dressed to kill, you look so right. I am drunk with lust tonight. Your wounds are opening wide, and they might be just my size” - Side Walk When She Walks by Alexisonfire

Pairing: Sam x OC

Warnings: 18+ PLUS ONLY!! Angst, unprotected sex, rough, my unstoppable obsession with how large Sam is shining through here and there

Word count: 2.9K

A/N: This is my first time posting an explicit smut fic. I tried to do the lyrics and the vibes of the song justice. Let me know what you think! Feedback is the best fuel for every writer <3

Beta: @princessmisery666​

|| JJ’s Masterlist ||

(gif)

It was the first night in their third motel since leaving the bunker. Lacey wasn’t sure if Sam was looking for a hunt, or maybe he didn’t want Dean to find them. She doubted Dean would be looking for them. Neither brother was going to concede anytime soon. 

Knuckleheads.

Lacey could smack herself for not having realized sooner how serious their falling out was. She wondered, if she had only stepped in a little bit earlier, things wouldn’t be the way they were now. They would have been home, where they belonged. She would be sitting around the table with the two brothers, rolling her eyes at one of Dean’s stupid jokes while Sam looked at her with that peaceful smile he only got when it was just them. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t understand why Sam was upset. Dean had lied to him. Again. He said he did it to protect his little brother. Again. Sam got angry with Dean. Also, not new. But this time he had packed a bag and bolted out the door. Lacey had barely had any time to grab her own duffle and follow him.

It hadn’t been her choice to leave home, but if it meant she at least got to be with Sam while he figured this out, she would bite her tongue and get through it with him. The problem wasn’t that she didn’t support Sam. She would die for him without a second thought. The problem with this situation was that it was a waste of time. Lacey knew the brothers would come to their senses and make up eventually anyway. She just wished she knew when so she didn’t have to wonder when she’d sleep in her own comfortable bed again, or get to use a shower of which the water stayed warm for longer than three minutes.

Sam was stubborn. Lacey had figured that out soon enough when she got to know him. Despite that, she fell in love with the man. Maybe even a little bit because of it. She knew he could handle all this. He just needed some time.

She had brief text-exchanges with Dean to let him know they were all right, but the brothers hadn’t spoken since their argument. That was over two weeks ago.

Sam had been on edge from the moment he hightailed out of the bunker. Lacey tried to talk some sense into him multiple times. During the long car rides, Sam would turn the radio volume up to end the conversation. At night in bed, he would say he was tired and turn off the light. The few times she did manage to get him to say something, Sam would tell her Dean was the one she should be trying to talk to. In the texts from the older Winchester, she got the same response about Sam.

Lacey wanted to grab both brothers’ pride and stick it where the sun couldn’t reach. She was usually a pretty patient person, but when she saw the people she cared about hurting because of something so stupid, something they could fix so easily, she got frustrated.

One night, Lacey had pushed Sam a little too far and he snapped at her, telling her to get lost. She hadn’t even been able to turn around to leave before he was in front of her, grabbing her hand and looking at her with regret deep in his eyes. She’d stayed. And Sam apologized a dozen different times that night, in a dozen different ways.

Following that night, Sam seemed to have realized he had to be more careful who he directed his frustration toward. He wasn’t angry with Lacey, he was angry with Dean. And, Lacey knew, with himself, but that was a conversation he definitely wasn’t ready to have yet.

Day after day, Lacey was hyper-aware of how tense Sam was. She had exhausted most methods to get him to talk about it and face the problem. She had to come up with a new plan. Maybe what Sam needed was a distraction, a way to forget for a moment. Lacey knew just the thing to help him blow off steam.

Sam needed to get lost in something other than his frustration. She wanted him to get lost in her.

Lacey was still in the bathroom when Sam came back from his supply run that night. When she came out, he was putting away the last of the food in the small motel room fridge. Lacey walked into the room barefoot, wearing nothing but one of Sam’s large shirts over her underwear.

Upon hearing her approaching, Sam glanced over his shoulder. He frowned and looked at the clock on the wall, before looking back at Lacey. “You’re going to bed already?” he asked. “It’s only nine. I thought we could go into town, catch a movie.” 

Ever since he’d snapped at her, Sam had been trying to find ways to make being away from home more enjoyable for her. Lacey knew he felt guilty, and she appreciated the effort, but tonight she had other plans.

“I thought we’d stay in tonight,” she said. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

Sam took in a sharp breath before slowly closing the fridge and standing up straight. Though there was a few feet left between them, he was still towering over her. A disapproving look shone in his eyes.

“Lace, I told you, I don’t want to talk a-”

“It’s not about that,” she quickly cut him off. Lacey’s lips pulled into a conniving little smile. Her finger caught a lock of her hair and started twirling it. “I was just wondering…”

As her voice trailed off, Sam’s eyebrows raised. She could tell he was slowly catching on to her mood, and so she continued.

Her hands disappeared underneath the shirt she was wearing. “I was just wondering…” she said again as she swiftly pulled down the pair of panties that had been hidden by the shirt’s fabric. She bent forward to guide the piece of lingerie down her bare legs. “What you think of these.” When she righted again, it was dangling from her outstretched index finger. “I bought them new the other day.”

Sam took in the laced fabric. It had always been her favorite style of lingerie to wear, and his favorite to see on her. The irony wasn’t lost on either of them.

Lacey noticed Sam’s eyes had darkened to that familiar shade of lust. She rubbed the insides of her thighs together. Sam still hadn’t said anything, so she continued.

“It’s a matching set,” she innocently informed him as she let the panties drop on the floor. Sam’s eyes didn’t follow them down, they stayed right on her. They watched her pull the straps of her bra down her arms, and through the sleeves of his shirt. They took in the way she reached behind her back and unclasped the second piece of the set.

This time she didn’t hold it up for him to look at. She just gave the bra a quick tuck and let it fall from beneath the shirt, onto the floor at her feet.

A new form of tension hung in the air between them. Lacey let Sam evaluate the situation in silence for a moment. Let him look at her, standing in front of him, knowing she was fully naked underneath his shirt.

She averted her gaze, looked down at her bare feet and started drawing circles into the carpet. After listening to a few deep heavy breaths from Sam, Lacey glanced up at him through her lashes and asked, “Well? Do you like it?”

Sam tilted his head to one side, then the other, rolling his shoulders to loosen the muscles in his neck. His eyes moved down from her face to her chest. Lacey knew what he was looking at. Her nipples had gotten hard and were now prominently standing out through the fabric of the shirt. Sam’s fervid eyes took in the sight.

Then he finally moved closer to her. He crossed the distance between them in barely two strides. His hands found her hips and pulled her in. Lacey wrapped her arms around his neck and Sam dipped his head down.

“I think,” he hummed in his low voice, his lips brushing her ear, sending shivers down her back, “you look good in anything.” Bending his knees slightly, he easily lifted her up, guiding her legs around his waist. The shirt rode up her thighs, revealing her bare ass. When Sam hoisted her up a little higher, her cunt rubbed against the rough fabric of the waistband of his jeans. The friction caused a soft whimper to escape her lips.

The build-up had heightened all of Lacey’s senses. She could feel how wet she’d gotten solely from the way Sam had been eyeing her.

“However,” he continued as he started walking forward, “I think you look best trapped between me and the closest wall I can press your pert little ass up against.” As Sam finished his filthy thought out loud, Lacey was pressed tight between Sam’s hard chest and the motel room wall. He put his hands against it on either side of her head and leveled his forehead with hers to look into her eyes rather sternly. “You wanna play, huh?” he said, sounding askew.

Lacey nodded, looking deep into his eyes.

“Use your words,” he chastised her, his voice hard.

“Yes.” She licked her lips feverishly. “I want to play, Sam. Please?” Her hips bucked against his, desperately looking for more friction.

Sam smirked at her politeness. “How could I ever say no to that?” he mused. “Look at you, so eager for me.”

“Sam,” Lacey whined. She continued grinding against him. There was now an obvious bulge in his pants and she could feel it against her needy heath every time she moved.

She reached for his belt, but Sam was faster. He grabbed her wrists with one hand and effortlessly pinned them over her head against the wall. His other hand grabbed her chin firmly and tilted her head back to expose her neck.

His mouth was on her instantly, ravaging her skin, breath hot and teeth scraping. “I heard you last night when you were in the shower,” he grunted between bruising kisses. “You didn’t really think you could keep quiet for me, did you? I could make out those sweet noises of yours anywhere.” He pulled his hand from Lacey’s chin and it disappeared beneath the shirt of his she was still wearing. “Or maybe that’s exactly what you wanted.” His rough fingers found one of her hardened nipples and gave it a nasty pinch.

Lacey let out a sharp moan of surprise. It never failed to amaze her how well Sam knew her. It was true she hadn’t tried to hide her little play time in the shower the night before. She had wanted to give him something to think about. Something to stay on his mind throughout the entirety of the next day, to build up to this very moment. It pleased her to find out it had worked out exactly as planned.

“We better get you what you want,” Sam continued, his hand now brazenly groping her tits underneath his shirt. “You look like you’re about to break open,” she didn’t need to see him to know he was smirking, “and I haven’t even filled you up yet.”

Lacey didn’t doubt his words. She sure felt like it. Her heart was thumping in her chest and she had lost all control of her hips. They just kept bucking against Sam’s body, grinding to find some form of release for the desperate want inside of her.

When Sam let go of her wrists, she climbed a little higher up his impossibly large body to allow him to pull his pants and boxers down just far enough. His cock sprung free and Lacey could feel it probing her ass.

Sam’s hands were gentle yet resolute as he pushed Lacey away from his body. It gave him enough room to pull the shirt off her and reveal in all her beautiful, naked glory what she had been teasing to him during her little show from before.

Before the shirt had even landed on the floor, his hand was pulling his hard length up between their bodies. The tip left some of its precum on Lacey’s lower stomach. Sam didn’t miss a beat and wiped it off with his large thumb before moving his hand up to her face.

Lacey parted her lips without a second thought. In response, Sam’s smirk grew and his eyes darkened further. “Good girl,” he spoke huskily as she sucked his finger clean eagerly.

The salty taste subsided after seconds but Sam didn’t pull out his thumb and Lacey kept her plump lips around him. She never broke eye contact, looking at him with the same lust in her eyes that she saw mirrored in his.

He didn’t need any more verbal communication to know what she wanted, and she didn’t need to ask to know he was about to give it to her.

Their bodies moved in sync. Lacey moved her hips back and Sam positioned himself at her entrance. Her body jerked up when he slammed into her, easily filling her up all at once because of how wet she was. He let out a low breathy sound of approval when he watched her breasts bounce from the movement.

“This is what you want, isn’t it, baby?” he cooed in her ear when he leaned closer.

Lacey’s head was leaning back against the wall and all she could get out was a frustrated, “Yuh.” Her hands reached for Sam, blindly finding his long hair and tugging at it.

Sam’s low growl sent a shiver down to her core. Another tug and his teeth were scraping her neck again. One more and he was finally moving inside her.

She could feel him sliding in and out with ease, giving a few lazy thrusts before he started picking up the pace. She had to move her hands from his hair onto his shoulders to grab on tight when he really started pounding into her.

His movements were ruthless, stretching her open wide for him and no doubt leaving her bruised; just the way she liked it. The sounds falling from her lips spurred him on and he somehow began moving even faster.

Lacey wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck tightly, pulling her entire body against him. Her hands slid underneath the collar of his shirt, allowing her nails to dig into his shoulder blades. Sam let out a hiss at the stinging scratches she left behind. She could feel his wicked grin against the tender skin of her throat. He was still sucking, leaving it raw and sensitive.

She let him release all his frustrations, liberate his grievances. And she let him do it all with her. Every movement felt so right. They were both drunk on desire, grunting and panting while their bodies felt like they were on fire.

One of Sam’s hands sneaked its way between them and down Lacey’s front. His large fingers found her clit. He wasted no time starting to circle the bundle of nerves, sending a jolt of deliciously excruciating pleasure straight up to her core.

“Sam,” Lacey moaned into his shoulder, “Baby, I…”

“It’s okay,” he breathed. “Let go.” His hips snapped sharply.

Somewhere far in the back of her mind, Lacey was aware that that was exactly what she was supposed to be saying to him. Then Sam hoisted her up just a little higher and she lost all sense of thought when he hit her from a different angle. Even if she’d still been to her full senses, Lacey wouldn’t have been able to stop herself snapping from the pressure.

“Let go,” she heard Sam say again. Her hips bucked and her body shook as she came. With her walls squeezing around him, Sam’s body tightened against her. She could feel him emptying his load inside of her.

Her name and his praises fell off his lips in the same sloppy rhythm he kept thrusting into her, riding them both through their climax. Lacey’s lips found Sam’s and their deep kiss smothered their moans.

When they pulled apart, Sam caught his breath. He stepped back from the wall and carried Lacey through the room. He didn’t pull out of her until she was hovering over the bed. Then he gently placed her on the mattress. Lacey pulled the blanket over herself as she watched Sam pull his pants the rest of the way down. He took off the rest of his clothes before joining her.

“Feel better?” he asked, a lopsided grin on his beautiful face. The darkness in his eyes had gone but Lacey could still spot a hint of lust remaining.

She nodded, letting out a soft sigh. Then her eyebrows pulled into a slight frown when she thought of how that had hardly been the point of all this. “Yes, but-”

“Me too,” he interrupted her, as if he knew exactly what she was going to say. She realized he probably did.

His hand was on her knee, snaking up her thigh until it reached her core, feeling up the wreckage he’d left behind. “But I bet I can make you feel even better.” And with that same grin still on his lips, Sam fully disappeared under the covers.

Let me know if you want to be added to any of my taglists!

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​Team Bitch Face (Sam tags) @samfreakingwinchester​

[vexillumalbum]

Just saw this for mysme, but could I possibly indulge myself and ask for a MLQC headcannon or fic of the boys having a wet dream about MC? Whatever you’re feeling my love ♥️ Thank you for your beautiful work 💕💕

Thank you for your request! I hope this satisfy you haha 

NSFW below

Victor

„Victor~” your voice filled with need was one of the giveaways of how much you wanted him. And when you spread your legs, sitting in front of him on the desk in his office to show him that in the morning you had totally on purpose forgotten to put on your underwear, something inside him cracked and within seconds your skirt was on the floor.

Blood boiled in his veins and was reaching his cock, causing him to lose his temper. You were so beautiful with cheeks tinted a light shade of pink and eyes begging him to fuck you, he was unable to resist you.

A whimper left your plumped lips when cool fingers of one of his hands marveled upon your slick folds while the other hand made a quick work of his belt and zipper. You kissed him, or maybe he kissed you. It didn’t really matter. You were both too lost in a moment to care.

„So good—” Your moan reached his ears drowning his own groan as his hard length disappeared in you. A feeling so heavenly familiar yet excitingly new every single time his cock was enveloped by your heat.

The scent of your arousal - sweat mixed with floral perfumes, your sweet cries of pleasure as he was senselessly pounding into you, your warmth that was so inviting he—

Bzzzt bzzzt bzzzt

Startled, he woke up in his bed, his pajamas disheveled and sheets creased. He turned off the alarm clock, then ran a hand over his face to discover that his forehead was covered with sweat.

A low grumble got out of his chest. He instinctively glanced over to the other side of the bed, where he would normally find your figure sleeping under the covers, but now it wasn't there due to the business trip you were taking. 

Usually he could control himself and his lust, but your absence was taking its toll on him, and he'd had dreams like that for several nights now. 

Ignoring the aching hardness in his pants, he grabbed the phone to see if he had received any messages from you. And when he saw you assured him in one of your text messages that you would be home tonight that day, his member throbbed a bit.

He replied with a simple „I’ll be waiting” but in his head he already saw all the places and positions he would take you in. He had to make you regret leaving him for so long.

But for now his hand had to be enough

Gavin

Too much. 

The sight of your breasts bouncing with every swift move you made, the heavenly sounds escaping your plump lips and the way your warmth welcomed him back with your every move accompanied by his feverish thrusts.

It was all just too much for Gavin.

His large hands caught your hips to encourage you to move more and as his calloused fingers dug harder into your flesh, his name left your mouth making him unable to think properly.

„Gavin!” 

Your hands mindlessly wandered along the edges of his muscles and with every second your nails were digging more and more into officer’s skin leaving moon-shaped marks. He was barely controlling himself, every time you rode him, he would had to hold himself back in order not to finish too early. 

He recognized all the signs that you were close. Your hands clenched into fists on his chest as your eyes rolled back, and your pussy squeezed his cock tighter and tighter with every move. 

He had always thought you were beautiful, but it was in those moments when you were on verge, ready to plunge into the abyss of pleasure, that he considered you the most alluring.

Gavin let himself get lost in pleasure knowing yours would come soon enough and when one of your hands went to grab his hair and tugged lightly he—

Ring ring ring

He sit up frantically trying to stop the noise that caused him to wake up. Because of his actions his phone, still ringing, dropped to the floor making Gavin frown. 

Who was calling him on the early Saturday morning?!

Picking up his phone, and seeing your smiley face along with your name on it, he started panicking a bit vividly remembering his dream. Dude, relax, she doesn’t know

„Gavin? Where are you?” 

„What do you mean?” He asked shifting uncomfortably on the bed. There was a big contrast between your voice in his dream and your voice now but hearing it still made him blush.

„You were supposed to help me with rearranging the living room today! Did you forget?”

Shit, he forgot

„Ugh, no. Of course not. I’m on my way.” He mumbled. „See you soon.” He hung up before you could say anything more as he collapsed on the pillow. Painfully aware of his erection he tried not to think about you but it was too hard. He could make love to you a thousand times before but still be turned on even by smallest things so a dream like that was a lot to handle for him.

He groaned, got up and made himself presentable enough to go to your apartment. On the way out he grabbed a few packs of condoms, you know, just to be prepared in case of… ekhem

Lucien

„Professor, please.” Was the only thing able to be heard in one of the lecture halls one day in the early evening. 

Your body devoid of any clothes was leaning over a large mahogany desk with your ass sticking out in the direction of Lucien, who was sitting in an office chair with a smug grin plastered to his face. His hands folded over his chest as he was watching your curves swaying slightly in anticipation of what’s to come. 

„Naughty girls do not get their treats.” He mused.

„Please! I know I was a bad student falling asleep on your lecture! I’m sorry, now please, please~”

Tired after a long period of teasing from the professor, all you wanted to do was to release the tension he'd been building inside you. But you knew you weren't gonna get what you wanted if you weren't cooperating so you patiently waited for Lucien's next move with your hands clutching the edge of a desk. 

Okay, maybe not so patiently.

You wiggled your ass and arched your back moaning his name. Your juices freely ran down your thighs glistering in the evening light of the setting sun pouring through large windows. A heavenly sight, he would think.

After a moment of silence you heard quiet metal sounds as he was unbuckling his belt and in an instant Lucien’s hands were on your hips. With a delicate kiss between your shoulder blades and a squeeze to your rear, his whole length disappeared inside you. 

The warmth that enveloped his member was addicting and he would never get tired of it. Plunging in and out of you at an insane speed all he wanted to was bring you to your release, that would trigger his and he would spill inside of you or on your ass, he hasn’t decided yet. 

You were close, and he was close and—

Beep beep beep

The sound of his alarm clock has never startled him until now. Usually he would be waking before it even had the chance to start ringing. 

His eyes shot open and for a second he didn’t know if he was still dreaming or not. But the grayish reality brought him back to earth. 

He wasn’t one to like his own dreams, usually they were nightmares, although today he wanted to go back to sleep and finish what he started. Yet, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again. 

He reached over to the other side of the bed to hug your body to his chest and leave some butterfly kisses along the back of your neck.

After all, if he couldn't go back to sleep, he’d make his dream come true.

You moaned causing more hot blood run downwards to his member. In that moment he knew he would not let you go until he had you ravished.

„Wake up, butterfly. I think you owe me some apology for falling asleep on my lecture.” He whispered into your ear before grinding into your rear, making you very much awake.

Kiro

The couch in the music studio wasn’t the most comfortable piece of furniture you’ve ever sit on, let alone have been fucked on, but with Kiro every place was good enough to make passionate love. So when Savin left the room with the producer to discuss more details of Kiro’s next album and the blonde send you one of his trademark smiles promising mischief, you knew what you were up to.

Moments later you were pinned to the cushions with your blouse unbuttoned and Kiro’s lips attached to one of your nipples kissing, biting and licking. 

You tried to keep quiet but there was nothing more that your boyfriend loved than your sweet moans so he made everything to make sure you would whimper and whine with his every move. All the people outside the room be damned.

His painfully hard length brushed against your bare thigh and when you buckled your hips to have some sort of friction one of his hands held you in place. He found your pout adorable and sexy at the same time.

„Someone’s impatient.” He sang as he positioned himself in front of your drenched pussy.

„Kiro~”

His thrusts were deep and hard and so so good your eyes were rolling back with each and every one of them. The way you clenched around him caused shivers to his spine.

„I’m close~” you sang, and when you finally reached your peak he found himself unable to control his release further. A few more snaps of his hips and—

Bang bang bang

„Kiro, wake up! You’re gonna be late for your rehearsal!” A voice, one that definitely did not belong to you, was yelling outside his hotel room door. „I’m gonna cut out all of your sweets if you won’t wake up!” Ugh, Savin

„I’m comin’. Give me a few minutes.” His reply was muffled by a pillow he put on his head but somehow his manager still heard him and left him alone. 

Palming himself through his pajama shorts he grabbed his phone and quickly dialed your number hoping you would pick up. And you did after a few signals.

„Kiro? Hello! Are you up?” Your melodious voice was a pleasant sound to his ears. 

„Good morning, Miss Chips.” His usual high voice was lower by a few octaves making you shiver at the other side of the call. „Was I in your dreams last night just as you were in mine? Because I think you should make it up to me for not being able to finish.”

You knew exactly what he meant. It wasn’t the first time you and Kiro would have phone sex due to his constant travelling and to be honest every time he called you would wish it was this time of a phone call. 

You rapidly sucked in a breath which made his cock twitched in his pants.

„Oh, Kiro~” Luckily you were still at home, so you had some time for him. 

„I hope you know that when I come back, I won’t let you leave the bed.” He purred into the phone making you wet already. „But for now this has to be enough.”

Shaw

Your mouth around his cock had been his dream ever since the first time he’d seen you. 

Those pink lips stretched out to fit his girth and gentle hands pumping what you couldn't fit - he thought about it at least once a day.

So when one evening you stepped in the shower with him and dropped to your knees, Shaw thought the heavens finally listened to his pleas. 

You started slow, hungrily staring at his member, which gave him a big boost to his ego. You wanted him as much as he wanted you and hell, was he proud of that.

He slipped his hand through your hair and rested his back against the wall, letting the warm water run down his muscles freely.

„C’mon, baby.” With a little encouragement you started licking and sucking at the head. Shaw’s grip in your hair tightened causing you to moan and finally take him all into your mouth. What you couldn’t reach was enveloped in your hand.

Everything about it was perfect. How you were bobbing your head, how you were gagging with his every thrust making your throat squeeze slightly around his cock, how you would hum feeling him getting close. He had no idea where you had learned giving a blowjob so well but he wasn’t the one to complain.

A few more second and he could reach heaven with your lips around him. A few more—

Ding dong ding dong

Oh fuck

So it was a dream after all

He groaned, tossed around the mattress and stretched out before standing up to see who was knocking on his door so early in the morning interrupting his good time. Sharky lying in the corner of the room gave him a look that Shaw could only describe as disgusted, at what the man muttered "What are you staring at?”. 

Ding dong ding dong

He opened the door to reveal your annoyed, a little red face with wide eyes staring at him angrily. 

„Shaw! I’ve been standing here for— Hmph!” He interrupted you with his lips on yours and his hand around your waist pulling your figure into his chest. He didn’t even let you take a breath kissing you hungrily.

He didn’t know why you came to see him probably because you two had agreed to meet on that day and he overslept but he didn’t give a damn. He had a big problem in his pants caused by you and you were the one who was gonna solve it.

He slammed the door, slung you over his shoulder and carried you into the bathroom ignoring your confused screams.”I have to take a shower, right? I just woke up.” He told you with a hint of mischief in his tone and you knew what was going to happen.

Maybe gods did listened to his pleas after all

____________________________________________________

thank you so much for reading!

if you want to read more of my works they are here

[stevesharrlngtons]

adam, carved from the rib of eve.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: godfrey industries throws a party in the honor of their new ceo. roman is less than thrilled to be attending, but at least he has you. 

word count: 3.4k (a shortie)

a/n: i am such a slut for the “i hate everyone but you” trope as you can probably tell and that’s basically this fic lol. i ended up not loving the ending to this, but i like the beginning so i’m posting it anyways lol

Roman’s hand hadn’t left the small of your back for hours. His fingers widened and drummed and stroked and squeezed you through the slinky fabric of your dress, to both soothe himself and to keep you intune with his moods throughout the evening. His nails would probe into your skin when someone would approach him that he disliked, telling you with his fingertips of his distaste. Leaving small crescents in your dress and the smooth skin underneath kept him from showing his true loathing for an employee on his face. At certain points during the evening, you were worried that Roman would draw blood from his ministrations, fearing little lines of crimson would blot your dress and force you to tie his suit jacket around his waist like some midwestern mother. During these moments, you’d reach out to stroke his lapel or lean your temple to his shoulder in a show of affection and warning. Roman would ease his prodding and smooth his fingertips over his marks in sweet apology. 

Tonight was a big night for Roman. Tonight was the night that he was being officially inducted as the new CEO of Godfrey Industries. Large posters had been unrolled from the ceiling that pictured his signature pout and chilling glare; a slideshow that was being projected on a far wall of the rented ballroom showed pictures of Roman, Pryce and JR; napkins were leafed across tables with a congratulation message for Roman’s succession. Tonight was a momentous night in the history of The White Tower and the Godfrey legacy, and Roman was miserable. 

He hated that everyone wanted to talk about his father and Norman and his mother and Pryce and what he would do for the company in the future. He hated that he had to put on a neutral face and hob knob with men and women he deemed to be serfs and peasants. He hated that men eyed you up and down and women tried to grope him and he hated that anyone thought they were worthy of your combined presence. If either of you were forced to shake another hand he’d blow his brains out (hyperbole, unfortunately, because he could see a fat man with a wet upper lip approaching him).

But, he thanked whatever higher power that was out there that you were by his side, looking gorgeous and regal and supportive. Roman Godfrey said a silent thank you to every God his mind could name that you loved him and he loved you back, because he could not fathom attending this party without you. Without you smiling when he couldn’t conceal his hatred, without you lightening the mood with sweet anecdotes and pretending to look interested when his employees talked to you. 

You nodded and hummed and asked thoughtful follow up questions that left the impression on his lessers that Roman Godfrey and his girlfriend were good people; the kind of people who cared about the lives of their workers. He would be utterly lost without you, a thought that crossed his mind every time he glanced down at you, huddled into his side with a glass of champagne cradled in your dainty hand. 

Well, that and how much he wanted to fuck your brains out when you both returned home. You looked down right delicious in your evening gown.

Unfortunately when there is a party thrown in your honor, people are interested in talking to you. Soaking up your presence without any regard for how the honoree might feel. The mouth breathing attendees wrapped in their rented Men’s Wearhouse tuxedos didn’t care that Roman just wanted one minute alone to cozy up to his girl, as they formed a line to congratulate him and try to perform for him as a way to prove their keep. Little did they know they were just doing the opposite, only fueling his ire for them. Thankfully, the line had diminished for the first time that evening, leaving you and Roman to your own devices by the bar. 

“Thank fucking God,” Roman murmured as he order a bourbon and another glass of champagne for you. 

“Just try to grin and bear it. We can leave in an hour.” You reply, squeezing his hand that still resided near your backside. 

He groaned, “An hour?” 

“Yes, an hour. This party is for you. You don’t want to seem ungrateful or stuck up.” 

The bartender placed your drinks in front of each of you. Roman took his quickly and took a long pull from the glass. 

“You my PR director now?” He muses. 

“Hell yes I am, and you better be thankful,” You say, quite matter a factly, “I make you look good, approachable, the boy next door. Not the playboy who snorts coke off of hookers tits. I am the Persephone to your Hades. And people love it.” 

Roman chuckles, “I can’t say I don’t like that comparison.” 

You smile at him over the rim of your glass. Roman takes a drink from his own glasses and swallows thickly before speaking again.

“You know I am thankful for you, right?” 

Your grin softens at the uncharacteristic confession and you place your glass back on the bar so you can cozy up to him, “I’m thankful for you, too.” 

Roman stared down at you, love and appreciation pooling in his green eyes as his hand loops around you to link with his other. You place both hands on his chest and kiss his chin chastley as Roman melts into your embrace. You make him feel so needy and weak in a way he had always chased away and feared. But you made him love it, revel in it, look forward to the feeling. Though, it made his guard fall, you and your sweet kisses and sweeter touches, and right now, while he was in a room full of judgmental employees that he was trying to make see him as their alpha, probably wasn’t the best time for him to be turning to honey and sun shining warmth. 

Luckily (or not so luckily) the haze you two were in was broken by an onlooker. 

“I believe congratulations are in order.” 

Roman’s glare hardens within seconds as he looks away from you to Pryce, who stands behind you, hands clasped behind his back. 

“I don’t need them.” Roman replies, letting you untangle yourself from him. 

“Well, I offer my sincere pride and happiness for you, anyway.” Pryce says with a tight lipped smile. 

Roman doesn’t respond, just raises his eyebrows at the other man. 

After a beat of uncomfortable silence, Pryce moves his attentions to you, “(Y/N), you look stunning tonight.” 

“Thank you, Doctor.” You respond politely. 

“I’ve heard from many patrons tonight that you have bewitched them, they are all fat and happy with the care you’ve shown them.”

“I do what I can.”

“I would enjoy it if some of that good will would rub off on you, Roman. It isn’t becoming for any of us for you to look like a tyrant.”

Roman scoffs, “I don’t want them to like me. I want them to be fucking scared of who I am and what I can do.” 

“I believe Mussolini said something similar.” Pryce quips back quickly. 

“I’ll be their fucking Mussolini if I have to be.” 

“Let’s hope you’ll be more effective.” 

And again, there is a tense pause between the three of you. You sip the bubbles from your glass and try to burrow into Roman’s side to calm him. You knew Roman was capable of explosive outbursts, and you really preferred if he didn’t have one tonight in front of all these people. Especially at Pryce, when they were supposed to be creating a united front for the company. 

“Well, unfortunately I didn’t just come over to offer my congratulations,” Pryce begins. 

“It’s never just one thing with you,” Roman responds spitefully. 

“I came over to inform you that you are expected to give your speech soon.”

Roman’s jaw ticks, “What fucking speech?” 

“The speech we discussed last week.” 

“We didn’t discuss shit.”

“Believe me or not, we discussed a speech last week. Though, I suppose I am not surprised you don’t remember, as you seemed less than thrilled with the news when I gave it to you.” Pryce lamented. 

“I am less than fucking thrilled about it now.” He snapped. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Roman. This is a part of the job; addressing the troops.” 

“I don’t address the troops, I delegate someone to do that for me. Which is you, in the scenario.” 

“I am already giving a speech tonight, Roman. The one before your own that introduces you.” Pryce informs. 

Roman doesn't retort, just clenches his jaw tightly, you could see his muscles pulse through his skin. The glare he was giving Pryce would have made a lesser man quake, make them sweat and tremble with fear. But, the good doctor was used to Roman’s stares. 

“Go fuck yourself.” Roman spat, his face so close to Pryce’s that you could see flecks of spit freckle his skin. 

Roman then stormed off, pushing his way through the crowd and disappearing. 

Pryce gives a deep sigh, taking out a handkerchief to wipe his face while you simply shrug. 

“I can’t say it doesn’t worry me that a bonafide child will be taking over this company.” 

“Easy.” You say, reminding Pryce who he is talking too, “He’s just overwhelmed. He’s not much for public speaking.”

“But public tantrums he has no problem with.” 

“He’s very passionate. Something that will take this company far. Don’t forget that he is JR’s son, who himself was a very passionate man.” 

Pryce eyes you, “Will you continue to spin his outbursts into good omens?” 

You shrug again, this time with a budding smile, “I don’t mind.” 

He snorts, “What we do for love.” 

“Tell me about it.” You reply, before leaving Pryce by himself at the bar and going to search for Roman. 

You found him in a back hallway of the ballroom, back pressed to the wall with his knees to his chest, a lit cigarette between his lips.

“You look very modelesque right now. Very sexy,” You smirked and Roman looked up at you, “Like this in black and white? Boom, Vogue cover guaranteed.” 

You walked toward where he sat and smoothed your dress against the backs of your thighs so you could do the same. You faced him and rested your cheek to his bent knee. 

“You’re very funny,” He replied sarcastically, taking another drag from his cigarette, “Maybe I’ll just quit now and work on finding an agent.” 

“Well, you have the bone structure for it.” You played, but Roman still seemed less than amused.

“I’m serious. What if this is a sign?” He said, twiddling the filter between his thumb and forefinger. 

“What, the speech?” 

“Yes, the speech. What if me fucking it up, forgetting about it, is some sign from the business Gods that I’m just bound to mess this all up in the end? That I’ll embarrass myself and my father…” Roman’s voice shook at the periods. 

He was terrified, but had done a good job at hiding it. Over the last few weeks, you had been asking him how he felt about taking over at Godfrey, and everytime his answer was succinct and indifferent. Each time he told you that he was perfectly fine with the idea, as it was something that had been promised to him since birth. You never pried or pushed, but you made sure to keep a closer eye on his feelings than you normally did. You had a feeling the other shoe was going to drop and Roman would feel the weight of this decision lay on him, you were just waiting for when. 

“Baby, hey,” You cooed, snuggling closer to his folded up form, “None of that is going to happen, and you forgetting some stupid speech doesn’t mean anything. It means that you forgot, that's it. You’re human, you’re allowed to make human mistakes.” 

“Not in this job. Not when everyone is already waiting for me to fail.” Roman said.

“Well, you still are, because I’m telling you. You are allowed fuck ups and mistakes. It makes you seem more relatable.” You pluck the cigarette from between his fingers and take a drag. 

“I don’t want to relatable to those people,” Roman spits, “My God, nothing sounds worse.” 

You giggle, “Good thing you will never be like those people out there. Because those people, the ones out there desperately searching for your approval? Those people were born to worship men like you, Roman. You were born the man to be worshipped, the man to be followed.” 

Roman looked at you with his big doe eyes, both filmed with unshed tears as his lips pursed. You moved to place his cigarette back between his pouted mouth and let your thumb sweep across his bottom lip as you did.

“You, Roman Godfrey, will be amazing. You will shock and awe any and everyone. You’re not going to fail, because you don’t know how, baby. You are the man that I love, and no matter what, that won’t change.” 

A few tears had fallen on his cheeks as you spoke and Roman sniffled quietly, “You promise?” 

“I do.” And you leaned forward to slot your lips with his. 

The kiss was gentle and reassuring, you could taste the salt of his tears and the bourbon and smoke on his tongue. Roman’s hand came around to rest on your side and you purred at the contact. 

When you parted, it was because you could both hear the muffled sound of Pryce’s booming voice over the microphone. 

“Fuck,” Roman groaned, thunking his head against the wall, “What the fuck am I supposed to do?” 

“This is what you’re going to do,” You leaned forward and took his face in your hand, “You’re going to go up there, thank Pryce for his words about you. Then, mention how much this company meant to your father and how proud you were of him, and how proud he would be of you. Then say something about how much you love the company, how much it means to you and the world of medicine, blah, blah, blah. Then round it out with something light hearted, maybe make a joke? Then you’re done, you’re out of there.” 

“Are you sure that’s enough?” 

“It’s gonna have to be.” 

Roman nodded, before crushing the remainder of his cigarette under his dress shoe and pulling you into his side. You both sat in silence as you listened to the faint sound of Pryce’s speech. He was a well spoken man, which you knew made Roman nervous. 

“You know,” You said, breaking Roman from ruminating on what was to come, “I heard this couple talking shit about us.” 

“What?” Roman barked, snapping his head to look down at you. 

“Yep, when I was coming out to look for you, I heard them.” 

“What in the ever loving fuck did they say?” He fumes. 

“They were talking about how we were eye fucking each other all night, and how are PDA was inappropriate for the event.” You snort a laugh. 

“Who were they? Did you get a good look?” He was angry, you could feel it in the rigidity of his body. Your plan was working.

“Nah, just overheard them.” 

“Well, they better fucking hope I don’t find out who the fuck they are. Fucking rip their fucking eyes out for looking.” 

You giggle and Roman looks down at you again, anger and curiosity in his eyes. 

“I just love it when you get all riled up, it’s hot, baby,” You reach out to press a lingering kiss to his pulse point, “Love it even more than when you show everyone that I’m yours.”

Roman’s expression changes on a dime and pure hatred shifts into a sauve look of arousal, “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You hum, leaning to give more kisses to his throat, “I love how your hands feel on me, love that everyone can see, love how possessive you are, baby.”

A moan rips from Roman’s chest and he quickly grabs you and forces your legs around his hips to straddle him, “You like it when I show everyone you’re mine, huh?” 

He subtly bucks his crotch into your own and you whimper at the contact, “I love everything you do to me, baby.” 

His lips descend on yours once more, but this kiss is anything but soft. It’s hot and passionate and intense and fucking raw. His teeth clanging against your own, his tongue pushed deep in your mouth, both his hands groping your breasts. He occasionally broke apart from you to curse or to whisper an obscenity. You loved when he got like this, and you knew he needed it. He needed to feel in control, he needed to feel desired and strong. He needed to know he was still powerful; a protector. 

“You wanna know what you’re gonna do?” You moan, pushing his face to mouth at your neck.

“What, baby?” He asked breathlessly as he covered your skin in filthy kisses.

“You’re going to go out there, and fucking nail this speech. Show them that you’re the fucking boss, that you are in charge. That you own them and this fucking company. And you’re gonna do it knowing that I am in the audience, watching you, waiting for you to take me home and fuck me so good I can’t see straight.” And you pulled him away from you. 

His pupils were blown, his mouth red and kiss bitten and he panted as he gazed at you. 

“What the hell? Your plan was to give me blue balls then throw me on stage?” 

“A little, but mostly make you remember who you are. Roman Godfrey, the most powerful man I know, the only man who gets me soaked in seconds.” 

“Damn right I am,” He kisses you hard once more before you pull him off again. 

“Now go give your speech so we can go home,” You patted his shoulders firmly then stood from his lap. 

“I fucking hate you, you know that?” Roman complained, standing as well. 

But he didn’t, he really fucking loved you. Because somehow you knew every part of him, every nook and cranny of his twisted brain, every emotion and feeling before he had it. You knew him, and you always knew just what to do. He had been preening at your earlier praise and then fully immersed in your kiss and had totally forgotten about the speech altogether, along with his nerves. You had pumped up his ego with acclaim and hot touches and suddenly he wasn’t so scared anymore. Because all those stupid fucks out there, they didn’t matter. Like him or not, he owned this company, he owned them. They would learn to fear him, to want to be him, and that was something Roman knew was true (something that you had helped remind him). He fucking loved you so much, for always knowing what to do when he felt lost and helpless in the dark. Roman knew that taking over Godfrey Industries was the first in many steps he would take for the rest of his life to take care of you, and guide you through the blackness when you needed it.

“Sure you do,” You laugh.

“I’m supposed to go up there with this? You gonna let that happen?” He gestured to the bulge in his pants. 

“Think about baseball.” You shrugged and started back to the ballroom. 

Roman groaned loudly before catching up to you. 

As you both came through the double doors to the event, Pryce seemed to just be finishing up, catching Roman’s eye in relief that he hadn’t bounced. You reached down and gripped his hand as Pryce introduced Roman and gestured him to the stage. 

His face fell as all eyes moved to him, but you were there to plant a strong kiss on his lips and whisper, “Just giving that couple somethin’ to talk about.” 

Roman couldn’t help the cocky smile that spread over his face after that. He walked to the stage and you took your seat at one of the head tables. 

Roman cleared his throat and shook his blazer over his shoulder to resettle it as he looked out over the sea of his new employees. The sea of his new employees and you: who gave him an excited thumbs up and a wink. 

And Roman knew this would be a piece of cake. 

i really hope you enjoyed!! if you did, i would love to hear any and all feedback <3 also, bear with me for a while, i am not sure when my next story will be out bc the ones i have working on rn are kinda long, but! until next time (:

[whatgaviiformes]

From CG29’s fluff prompt list. No. 55: moonlight.

With Alan (again) 😘

You got it! Some John and Alan, Space!Bros for you. I hope you like.

Houdini's Moon

He hadn’t expected it to be cold. I mean come on; it was summer. He’d been swimming with Gordon just earlier today. Hot summer days though turned into cool nights (that’s the way the sun and the moon worked after all), and the long sleeves of Alan’s pajama shirt weren’t enough to keep out the crisp bite of the nightly breeze. They were once Virgil’s pjs - and Scott’s before him - the graphic on the striped tee shirt revealing a little swooping plane in the corner of the breast pocket.

Alan could feel the goosebumps prickling under the soft material, and he shivered despite himself, telling himself it was from excitement. He absolutely did not have the chills. No way.

Even still, he wrapped his arms around his legs, shifting as the shingles dug in awkwardly where he sat on the rooftop of his family’s Kansas farm, while around him the chirps of the katydids and crickets welcomed the stars.

The moon’s glow blanketed the grasses and long wheat stalks of their farmland, which was far enough from the electric buzz of the town center, that Alan’s eyes had taken a while to accommodate the low light.

But he hadn’t been looking over their fields.

Alan, like his father, looked up.

It was strange to think about a time before space flight, before they had ever landed on the moon, to see his father’s name in his history textbooks. He wondered if he would ever do anything cool enough to land himself as a “harbinger of the space renaissance” or whatever phrase they’d used to describe his father’s mission. Renaissance was a big word, and he was only eight after all.

Harbinger was a big word too, now that he thought about it. But he’d known the word harbinger for a long time. Scott called him and Gordon the harbingers of chaos all the time (and he secretly loved it, as if it gave him permission to be the mischief-maker he was born to be).

An owl laughed at him. Hoo Hoo.

I’m Alan Tracy, Mr. Owl. And don’t you forget it. He smiled and waited, yawning.

Waiting was the hard part. But he could be patient for her, for the moon. She was supposed to put on a show tonight. He felt the buzz of excitement under his skin, even as he struggled to keep his eyes open the more Lady Luna rose in the sky.

God, Scott would get so mad at him for being on the roof. And way passed his bedtime at that.

And what if it had all been for nothing?

What if he’d gotten the date wrong? Or if it didn’t really happen at all?

God. What if the disappearing moon was a myth?

If he left now, he could slip back in through his window and Scott would be none the wiser. And yet – what if it wasn’t a myth? What if the moment he left she performed her magic trick?

He couldn’t miss it. He just couldn’t. Even as his fears poked holes in the plans he’d been so sure of early this evening, the moon herself called to him, and he couldn’t avert his gaze now if he tried.

“Alan?” A shuffling and the quiet call of his name told him he’d been caught.

“John?”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to startle you,” the older boy whispered. “What are you doing out here?”

Alan shrugged, not sure if John could see the movement.

John carefully stepped over roof shingles like he’d been doing it his whole life, settling into position a few feet away from Alan where the roof wasn’t as steep. “Do you want to maybe come over here where it’s safer, Sprout?” He asked, holding out a hand to help Alan over the awkward angle of the roof.

Alan knew it wasn’t a question but appreciated it all the same. “Sure.”

The bones in his back ached as he stood. He stepped gingerly towards his brother and accepted the hand as soon as it was within range.

John pulled him to his chest, and, oh man, was that John hugging him?

“John?” his cry was absorbed into the NASA sweatshirt John wore to bed too many times, and which gave him a sore neck from the hood in the mornings.

“Sorry, Sprout,” he said, leaving a hand on his shoulder. “You were a little close to the edge out there. And it looked like you were falling asleep. What are you doing awake?” He asked again. “Were you – did you want to see the eclipse?”

Alan nodded. So it was real!

The dash of surprise flashed across John’s face and fell away just as quickly. They both sat, and the blanket he brought to use as a cushion, he instead draped around his and Alan’s shoulders, having felt the shiver under his hands.

“How long have you been out here?”

Alan shrugged. He truly didn’t know.

“All night?”

“I wasn’t sure when it would happen,” he admitted. He wasn’t sure if it would happen, but he couldn’t tell John that. John knew everything there was to know about space. Alan would be so embarrassed if John found out he’d doubted the truth of the eclipse, even for a moment.

“You could’ve asked me. You definitely could’ve gotten some sleep in.”

“Well, you could’ve told me it was happening!” He was not quite sure where the fire came from, but he was suddenly angry, blaming John for his intrusive doubts. If he’d just talked about it… “Why did I have to find out from school?”

Alan felt John’s form next to him stiffen, and the silence rang in his ears. He hated when John did that, answering questions with quiet. It was almost like he’d never actually respo –

“I am not sure, truthfully, Alan,” John mused. “I think everyone’s just grown out of coming out to watch the stars with me, and so I’ve just stopped mentioning it.”

“Well, you can mention it to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The eclipse is a big deal, right?”

“Yes, it is!” John enthused, his eyes shining bright in the starlight as he started explaining to Alan about how the celestial bodies danced around each other, and how when everything aligned in the right way, their shadows cast magic to the eyes of those watched.

Hearing his older brother talk about it was better than any teacher Alan had ever had, his passion more robust than any picture book describing umbras and penumbras. And apparently the moon would turn as orange as the harvest when in full shadow, which was just… he couldn’t wait to see it.

It had been a long time, Alan realized, since John had gotten a chance to share this with anyone. He felt the hum of the moon under his skin again, even as John gasped beside him.

Then Alan saw it too: the first sliver of darkness.

“Scotty’s going to kill us both,” John laughed. Beneath the blanket, he swung his arm around Alan’s shoulders and pulled him close as the sky stole the moon, and then gave her back.

[divine-bangtan]

- sugar & spice (m) jjk & kth

➻ summary: “Your assistant Jungkook has been harbouring secret feelings for you, the sweet bakery owner, for some time now. But what will happen when Taehyung, handsome, smooth as ever and mysteriously new to town comes along to sweep you off your feet?”

➻ Kiki’s Delivery Service!AU

➻ word count: 20.8k

➻ pairing: older baker!reader x baker assistant Jungkook x upperclass Taehyung.

➻ warnings: angst, reader doubts herself a lot, unprotected penetrative sex (pls keep this a fantasy only and wrap it), oral m. and f. receiving, spitroasting, creampie...hehe, food play, mentions of mxm, pregnancy, pregnant sex, lactation, squirting, anal fingering, anal sex, double penetration, daddy kink, and somehow also tooth rotting fluff.

➻ A/N: Thank you to my lovely cutie pie and fellow cherry koo enthusiast @gingerpeachtae​ for beta reading this for me! 🍒💜 The age of the reader is totally up to you! I’m absolutely in love with this AU, it’s the fluffiest yet the filthiest thing I’ve ever written yet. If you’re wondering about the time period, the film is set in a kind of alternate 30s though it’s not confirmed.

Moodboard I Music

It started with the gardenia. 

The first time Taehyung visited your bakery he had left behind a small white flower on the bakery counter when you weren’t looking, startling you in the most pleasant of ways when you nearly crushed it with your hand. You lifted the petals to brush the tip of your nose as you sampled the sweet scent, a blush warming your cheeks as you remembered how his charming smile had you flustered and fretful yet so endeared. However, what was not lost on you was the meaning behind it. Secret love.

 “...Miss?” A voice trailed off, disturbing you from your wandering thoughts and turning your attention to the customer right in front of you. “May I please get four apple danishes, a loaf of bread and a box of orange poppy seed muffins?”

“Sorry, yes of course! One moment please, hey Kookie?” You called in a singsong voice as you slipped into the back workroom. “We’ve got another order for orange poppyseed, how long will they be?”

Your part-time helper came in the form of Jeon Jungkook, but you liked to call him Kookie due to his sweet nature. He was six feet tall, ridiculously muscled and had an adorable bunny smile. He did most of the oven work, tending to the fires and cleaning in the kitchen, but helped you with some of the baking as well. He was particularly gifted at making the most exquisite citrus flavoured cakes, and had more recently been trying to perfect cream puffs.

 “Not long, noona. They’ve been very popular lately,” he mused, dimples etched deeply into his cheeks as he grinned. A smudge of black from the coal darkened one, and you couldn’t help but tut. 

“Of course they are, they’re delicious and it’s going to be spring soon...also you have soot on your face again, Kook,” you informed him, wiping it away with an endeared smile. The gentle tingle of the bell alerted you to another customer entering the store, and you hurried back out the front to continue running your popular business.

 “Sorry, the orange poppyseed will be ready soon. Are you happy to wait?” 

“Of course!” The young lady remarked, tilting to the left slightly to get a glimpse of Jungkook.

You remember the day he had come by your bakery, spotting the sign in your window stating you were looking for a kitchen hand. It was over three years ago now, the young man had just moved here for a change in scenery and was looking for a job. The picturesque seaside town provided the perfect scenery for his hobby of photography, and he was saving up to buy a better camera than the second hand one he currently owned.

It was astonishing how quickly he grew and matured in that time as well, hitting almost a second puberty and growing tall and filling out very nicely. The ladies in the town didn’t miss it either. It was a shame he was so shy around them, looking so out of place with a blush dusting his cheeks when he would catch a flock of them whispering to each other about if the cute baker was seeing anyone. They certainly weren’t coy about the way they would stare at his bulging biceps as he hoisted around the large trays of steaming fresh bread loaves, or wouldn’t hesitate to ogle his behind when he squatted to reach the lower shelves behind the counter. If only he could get a clue, but alas, he was absolutely oblivious.

After about ten minutes Jungkook emerged from the back room to refill the glass display with his cakes that would no doubt be gone within the hour. He handed the young lady a bagful, and flustered when her fingers brushed a little boldly over his.

 “These are really delicious, Mr. Jeon. I would even dare say they’re my favorite. Perhaps you’d like to join me later and we can share them?” She asked him, a glint of hope in her eyes at the way he gawked at her. 

From how pretty she was, you didn’t blame him. In fact, a tiny inkling of jealousy unfurled within you, wishing that you could have handsome men line up the way women did for him. Sure, the young man may have wiggled his way into your heart, setting down roots that began small but steadily grew, but he didn’t seem to return your fledgling feelings. A small smile found its way onto his face - nothing like the one you got from him every morning when you opened up the shop together - but nonetheless he was still smiling at her. 

“Or you could even give me a private lesson on baking? I just had my kitchen redone, it’s so grand.” The young woman suggested, but it was when he started becoming flustered for a response that you realised how uncomfortable he was, and how grotesque and ugly it was for you to be jealous in the first place. “The bench is just the perfect he-”

“I’m afraid Jungkook is working right now, and business is really quite demanding at the moment,” you interrupted, causing her sweet expression to sour. “Remember the wedding at the end of the week? We’ve got a lot of orders to finish up on.”

If looks could kill, you’d surely be six feet under from the bitter expression she shot at you. She huffed and gathered her things, leaving without her usual generous tip. Upon her disappearing from sight, Jungkook let out a long breath, shoulders slumping in relief.

“Thank you noona, I really didn’t like the direction that conversation was taking,” he murmured, looking off into space like he was having a traumatic flashback before shuddering violently. “I can close up shop, you should have an early finish for once, you work too hard.”

You opened your mouth to protest but he shushed you, insisting. “No really, I got it covered. Thank you again, noona.” He swooped in to peck you on the cheek before pushing you toward the back. Powerless against his inhumane strength, you had no choice but to be ushered halfway up the stairs before he bounded back down and returned to the shop.

When you reached the top of the stairs your black cat Jiji was quick to rub around your ankles, purring and meowing for food. You chuckled softly at his dramatic antics, more than once having to shoo him away as you fill his bowl with wet food, scraping the bottom of the tin. Some got on your fingers and you scrunched your nose in distaste, wiping your dirty fingers on your apron before untying it and placing it in your washing basket, absentmindedly wondering what you could do.

You supposed you could always finish off the spread for the wedding pastries and, most importantly, the cake. Sketches were strewn across the coffee table, and you sat down on the couch with a huff, vowing to finish it by tonight. Your eyes were drawn to a photograph of the couple, arms around each other in a sweet embrace as the photo was taken. It was the day they were examining the potential wedding venue, you remember how she gushed about the amount of flowers in the garden when she left you the photographs. Her wedding cake was to be white and have lots of iced flowers on each tier, it was simple yet so beautiful. She seemed happy. You wondered when you would find someone who would return your love the way her fiance seemed to, if his look of adoration was anything to go by. Then you remembered the gardenia, and how you met the young man you gave it to you.

It was getting quite late in the day and your shop normally had a few stragglers around this time, however, this evening it was empty. You had your head stuck in the display case, reaching far in to wipe down each shelf. The soft ringing of the bell on your door didn’t reach your ears, nor the footsteps that made their way to the counter. 

You jumped in fright when a face appeared in front of yours, slightly warped through the glass. He stared for a moment too long before you hurriedly freed yourself, dusted off your apron and smoothed any frizzy baby hairs you knew would probably be sticking up. He was impeccably dressed in a white shirt with a button up vest that was almost gold in colour, shimmering in the afternoon sun. From the looks of his attire he surely came from money. As his head turned to the side you noted he had a lovely profile and the rest of his facial features were mostly symmetrical. Lucky bastard, you knew many people who would kill for the natural beauty he so effortlessly possessed, the type of beauty that simply couldn’t be bought. However, the small signs of weariness did not escape you as his eyes took in your little shop. Finally, they landed on you and strangely you felt the need to squirm.

“Good evening, sir,” you greeted politely, wondering if he would be entitled like most of the good looking, rich folk.

He stepped up to the counter. “I hope I’m not keeping you, am I? If it’s too late, that's alright. Though it would be a shame, I’ve been told very good things about this place and I’m exhausted.” His jacket was slung over one arm, hair wind ruffled and a pair of thin wire glasses balanced upon his well-set central nose. It wasn’t unusual for wealthy people to pass through this coastal town on their travels, though they rarely came this late to the bakery. 

“No no, I’m not one to turn away a valued customer, what can I get for you?”

“Coffee please, I’m dead on my feet and I need to stay awake for a little longer.”

You nodded, well practiced hands already beginning to brew his drink. “Long journey? I take it you’re not from around here, and we do get a lot of travellers.”

“Very observant, Miss. I’ve just arrived to manage the large branch of my father’s shipping company that’s located in this coastal town. I was told it had very pretty scenery, but nobody told me it also has very pretty bakers here.” He remarked with a sly grin and you almost lost your grip on the coffee cup at his brazen compliment. He chuckled softly at your lack of response, not wanting to make you too flustered. “May I sit?”

“O-Oh, yes. Of course,” you stammered, kicking yourself for your stuttering. You were normally a fairly confident girl, yet all it takes is one handsome stranger to reduce you to this? Get a grip. He bowed softly in thanks, before turning and draping his jacket over the back of one of the chairs. You found your line of sight wandering down his back to the behind of his well tailored suit pants. The ladies in the town are going to eat him alive in the morning, he’ll soon forget about you and this little place. Yet, you found yourself slipping a small vanilla slice onto the plate beside his cup as a little welcome gift, adamant that you weren’t trying to impress him.

“Thank you,” he said, sounding more than a little tired. Incapable of thinking up a coherent response you bow quickly, spotting the fingerprints all over the glass of the display cabinet and set to work cleaning them. A soft groan makes you whip your head back around to look at him, did he get hurt? What if you made his coffee too hot and he burned himself or his tongue? His face was scrunched up almost as if he was in pain and he licked his lips a few times, seeing them moisten from his tongue caused you to swallow hard.

“Oh wow - this, is this vanilla?” He suddenly asked, and your eyes widened,  he seemed more alert and staring at you now that his cup was empty. “I’m more of a dark chocolate person but my my, this is delectable. Normally I don’t drink coffee, but given how exhausted I was it was welcomed. The sweetness of the vanilla balanced it out perfectly, thank you. How much is it?”

“Oh no! The slice is on the house, consider it a little welcome to town gift,” you insisted.

His sweet expression faltered and he tutted, standing slowly and gathering his things. “If you aren’t going to tell me then I suppose this will have to do,” he sighed, pulling out a note far too large for the price of any of the little pastries in your shop from his wallet.  You gasped and went to grab it and give it back to him, but he snatched it away before his other hand captured yours and the money was pressed into your palm along with...something else? Before you could think of what it might be, he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back.“It was lovely to meet you, Miss...?”

“Oh, um. Y/N.” 

“Y/N...what a beautiful name.” With that he left the bakery, disappearing into the dust pink evening, the little bell attached to the door softly jingling. You realised your hands were trembling from the press of his petal-soft lips, and when you opened your palm to look at the money there was also a small white flower. A gardenia? Where did he get that from?You hadn’t seen any around town.

You picked up the slightly dried-out flower from a few days ago, twirling it in your fingers and smiling when you could smell it still held a strong aroma. The fresh one from this afternoon was still in your apron pocket, and you fished it out from the washing basket gently, trying not to damage the petals. An idea popped into your head for scent bags, and you jumped up to rummage through your shop supplies for a brown paper gift bag. 

It hung in your wardrobe nicely, and would make your clothes smell lovely. He’d only given you two, but maybe he was going to bring one every time? Where were they even coming from? He- you stopped your little tangent of thoughts, cursing yourself for getting so hopeful. Surely he pulled that trick with every young woman he met. You weren’t going to lie, the second time he left you a flower you got your hopes up. But the amount of women who walked about the town with a flower in their delicate gloved hand gave you your doubts.

As a distraction  you threw yourself into your work, finalising the ingredient lists, accounts, designs and much more for the wedding cake and patisseries. Your mood was lifted somewhat, after all, that was your passion. Many days as a child you had helped your grandmother in her little kitchen. You reminisced back to the days where she taught you the secret recipe for her pumpkin scones, now one of your bestsellers.

Some time later you decided enough was enough, as your eyes grew heavier and increasingly difficult to keep open. The rest of your work could wait until tomorrow and you gladly flopped down on your awaiting bed, resting your stinging eyes for five minutes. The lamp on your bedside table casted a soft glow about the room, and you didn’t remember drifting off to sleep.

Soft chirping met your ears, muffled on one side where your face snuggled into the pillow. You groaned when something wet and feather light brushed against your cheek a few times. A louder, more piercing meow made you crack your eyes open to meet large green ones, a rumbling purr starting.

“Morning, Jiji.”

Your limbs were stiff and aching, you almost thought they might creak like the old wood of your floorboards if you were to stretch a little too hard. A huff of discomfort left your lips, annoyed at yourself for nodding off so easily without washing or even brushing your teeth. As you rose from the double bed in your small yet comfortable upstairs flat, your muscles protested but you gripped the ensuite bench for support, working hunched over your coffee table for long periods of time never ended well. However, it’s where you seemed most focused. Wincing when you took in your unruly hair and puffy under eyes in the mirror. Nonetheless, it was nothing a warm shower couldn’t fix.  

The steaming hot water ran over your shoulders and felt like heaven, relaxing the tension and chasing away that early morning chill that was only just leaving as spring fully came around.You lathered a generous amount of shampoo and your favourite sweet smelling conditioner which you only used for special occasions, such as if you were going to bump into a certain special someone today. 

Loud meows came from outside your bathroom, only increasing in volume as you cracked the door open, still toweling off your damp locks. “Okay okay, at least let me get dressed first. Stop acting like you’re going to starve, I actually think you’re getting a bit fat Jiji,” you mused as you finished pulling the dress over your head. Your eager feline bounded into the kitchen, and you went to follow only to jump in fright as you entered the living room. 

Curled up on the couch that was a little too short for him was a fast asleep Jungkook, looking so peaceful with his cheek squished against one of your too hard decorative pillows. Jiji trotted over to the couch, jumping up without a care in the world and sniffed at his face. Jungkook’s nose wrinkled at the wet ticklish sensation, cracking his eyes open and moving to sit up. When he spotted you looking at him through half asleep eyes, he froze. You quickly thanked the heavens you hadn’t walked into your living room without any clothes on as you sometimes do. 

“Did your bicycle chain snap again, Kook?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, the hair on one side of his head sticking up, not looking you in the eye as he nodded sheepishly. You sighed, this was the third time now and you were becoming angry with the repairs shop. “That’s it, I’m buying you a new one or something, anything would be better. I know you’re attached to that thing but it’s so old now. I just don’t want you getting stranded,” you fussed softly, pinching his chin and making him look at you. “Now go wash up while I make us some breakfast. There’s some clean clothes of yours in the laundry that you never took home, you can change into those.”

“Thank you noona, really.” He beamed, pulling you in for a warm hug that instantly had you melting into his embrace. Your hand found its way into the back of his long dark brown locks, scratching his scalp softly drawing a shiver from his large frame. Unconsciously his arms tightened around you and you let out a soft noise, causing Jungkook to release you instantly. He murmured a soft apology, scrambling downstairs to the laundry. You laughed to yourself at how funny he could be sometimes, blissfully unaware at the fact that he was running away so you wouldn’t spot the rapidly growing tent in his pants. 

A short while later he emerged from your bathroom, still shivering slightly from the cold water but he was feeling extra refreshed. The appetizing smell of whatever you were cooking wafted into his nostrils and he plopped down at the kitchen table while toweling off his wet hair. His eyes followed your figure as you moved about the kitchen, and the domesticity of it all made his heart flutter. How he wished things would be like this every morning. 

He knew he was staring again, openly admiring your side profile and his eyes couldn’t help the way they trailed further down. You had a little stomach from all the sweet things you sampled, and Jungkook sometimes couldn’t help the way he stared at your hands smoothing over your apron. His mind wandered until he was imagining how beautiful you’d look pregnant with his baby. His cock twitched in his trousers at the mental image of your belly swollen as you squirmed naked on soft white sheets, whining softly for him to fill y-

“...Kook?  Jungkook!” You yelled out, waving a wooden spoon in his direction and his jaw snapped shut and he sat up straighter. “There you are, you sure do zone out a lot, don’t you? For the third time, can you set the table please?” He stood up a little too quick almost causing the chair to topple over, and you laughed softly. He was an odd one alright. “Must be interesting things you’re daydreaming about,” you mused while serving the eggs onto the plates, and it was a good thing your back was turned or you might have seen the way Jungkook almost dropped the cutlery all over the floor.

Later that day you were busy finishing up with another customer, carefully placing the cakes you had finished icing this morning into her basket.

“Fourteen gold pieces, please. I hope the party goes well, I can’t believe he’s seven already,” you remarked as you placed the coins into the blue register. The two of you gushed over her adorable son, who peeked at you over the top of the counter, and you quietly slipped him a small cookie while his mother wasn’t looking. He shyly thanked you, and you were so enraptured in his chubby little cheeks that you didn’t notice the way all conversations around the bakery fell silent for a moment. The little bell on the door rung, signifying someone had entered and you noticed the movement in the corner of your eye but ignored it in favour of waving goodbye to the little boy. He waved cheerfully in return, a small bite already taken from the biscuit, his other hand clasped in his mother’s and you sighed. Children were something you’d wanted for a while, but you tried not to dwell on it as you wiped away the crumbs left on the counter.

After a moment you grabbed your notepad from the pocket of your apron, rounding the counter and making your way to the table where the new patron had seated themselves moments ago. However, you stopped abruptly when you recognised him as the man who had left you the flower not long ago. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his profile. He settled into his chair, leaning back and hooked an ankle over his knee so his legs were comfortably crossed, and the movement accentuated the slight bulge of his crotch. 

He placed a book on his lap and flicked through the pages, his hand coming up to adjust the thin wire spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose which had slipped a little, and from where you were standing you could see he had a little freckle on the tip. What was it with handsome men and having a cute little freckle? Jungkook had one under his lip which he often grumbled about being there, but you often told him it was rather endearing.

His tongue darted out to wet the tip of his finger and he smoothly flipped the page, the movement definitely drew your eye. Fuck, even his hands were beautiful, now you were nervous and your feet seemingly glued on the spot. The tip of your pen tapped against your little notepad, leaving small dots on the paper and you muttered angrily at your fidgeting. What were you so nervous for? He was just another customer, he never even told you his name. You took a tiny step forward, only to stop when you saw a young lady take a seat opposite him. 

Large doe-like eyes suddenly stopped in front of you, Jungkook’s mouth parted as he stared at you in confusion, that freckle now right in front of your eyes. “Noona? Are you okay?” He asked, a hint of concern evident in his tone. Your eyes dropped as you snapped out of your slight stuper, only to land on the swell of his bicep as he carried a tray filled with freshly baked bread. God, what was wrong with you? 

“Yeah of course! I just, um...realised something. Would you mind seeing if table four needs anything?” You risked a glance around Jungkook’s large frame, only to lock eyes with the man you’d just been staring at. The alluring chocolate colour of his eyes sent a jolt down your spine, and you jumped back behind your assistant. To make things less awkward you snatched the first thing that was in your sight as Jungkook moved away to place the tray down. You happened to grab the cloth you were just using thankfully, beginning to frantically wipe the side of the counter. God you were so stupid. Of course he was a complete flirt, he’d only been in town a few days and was already drawing in multiple women, yourself included, with his deceptive charm. 

You picked up a basket to wipe away at the crumbs underneath, but as you were putting it down a throat cleared beside you. The leather shoes that came into your view looked expensive, and your stomach dropped. As you lifted your gaze the curious expression on his face made you suck in a tiny breath, and unable to look away you dropped the basket back onto the counter. Unfortunately, it was too close to the edge and began tipping over, he surged forward suddenly to attempt to steady it behind you, effectively pinning you against the counter with his form. You gasped when suddenly his cologne bombarded your senses with warm, spicy cinnamon and...apples? The likely expensive scent made your knees feel weak, and the warmth of his arms pressed into your sides had your heart racing. His efforts were in vain, however, as the basket toppled to the ground, and small bread rolls scattered across the floor. 

The tip of his nose brushed against your scalp, and he hummed pleasantly. “Your hair smells lovely today, Miss (Y/N),” he observed, and you swear your heart was about to give out from how rapidly it was thundering in your chest. So he noticed.

“Oh, thank you Mr…”

“Taehyung. Mr. Kim if you please, but Taehyung will do just fine.” Even as he spoke ever so casually, he made no move to step back. 

His gaze dropped to your heaving chest as you were breathless from the proximity and palpable tension. Suddenly, it occurred to you that the neckline you had picked today was rather low cut, the fabric around your bust a little strained with each breath you took. 

You wanted to stay exactly where you were, quivering with excitement from being pressed right up against him. However, embarrassment got the better of you, a blush coming on strongly to your cheeks and you slipped out from the cage of his arms and kneeled to the ground. Thankfully, he couldn’t see your flushed state as you grabbed the pieces of scattered pastry. You felt unease rise within you when he crouched down beside you, dropping the bread back into the basket as well.

“Oh no, please don’t worry about that Mr. Kim. I can manage myself, besides this is my fault. Clumsy,” you scolded yourself quietly, shaking your head.

“No, it’s fine. I thought I might catch it but apparently my coordination is not as good as I thought,” he chuckled, silence filling the following moments as you continued to grab the bread. “You must keep pretty busy, huh? It’s a good thing you have your boyfriend to help you out.” 

Your eyes widened at his assumption. “Oh-no no, Jungkook’s not-he’s not my boyfriend. Just my assistant,” you explained, feeling your cheeks heat up again as you avoided his gaze once the two of you were standing, no longer crawling around the floor. The counter was covered in crumbs and flakes from the bread and suddenly you were very interested in picking at them. “I’m far too old to be his girlfriend anyway.” 

You couldn’t see the frown breaking out across Taehyung’s face, but as he opened his mouth to protest Jungkoook came striding over. “Noona, is everything okay? It’s not like you to drop good bread,” he questioned quietly, coming to stand just a little too close. The image of him acting like your guard dog came across your mind, hackles raised and ready to fight off any threats to his territory. You so wanted to be but you didn’t belong to either of them, they deserved much better. The young girl who was sitting with Taehyung only moments ago was looking over with concern at the tense atmosphere. Jungkook still stood uncomfortably close, silently challenging the man still standing in your personal space unabashedly.

“Yeah Kook, I’m good,” you replied, reaching out and gently patting his bicep. He looked at you suspiciously, not quite convinced but he nodded and slinked out the back anyway. Taehyung almost glared at Jungkook for another second before stepping back, however, he still stood quite close. Both of you hovered for a moment, you could sense he wanted to ask something. Not even a moment later, he did.

“The wedding this weekend, I was just wondering if you would be attending? Someone mentioned you were making the cake for it, among other pastries.”

“No,” you blurted out the obvious lie, all of a sudden taken aback by his question. Was he asking you out? The hairs on the back of your neck prickled as you sensed another pair of eyes on you, coming from his table.

“Oh,” he muttered, looking a little dejected. “So...you won’t be there? They’re friends of my family actually, so I’ll be in attendance.”

“No, sorry. I have another engagement, but Jungkook will be there!” You reiterated, not sure why you were lying to him. His expression soured momentarily, and another patron wandered up to the unattended counter. You were thankful for a way out and hurried away from the awkward conversation. He fidgeted with the brass button on his creaseless vest for a moment before slumping back into his seat. The nerve of that man! He had another girl with him, watching the whole thing unfold and he had the disrespect to practically ignore her. She certainly was beautiful, just like him. Definitely the type of woman that was more suited to him, rather than something so ordinary like you.

Jungkook came past just as you finished up with another customer, but you flagged him down before he could escape. “Oh Jungkook! I actually have a favour to ask of you…”

Stupid. That’s what you were. You sulked about the catering room, plating the little pastries for after the reception desert taking place soon. While you had an unmeasurable and intense focus when it came to your work, your passion, right now you couldn’t help but be on edge. The knowledge that Taehyung was around somewhere had your stomach churning with anxiousness at the thought of running into him, after blatantly telling him you wouldn’t be here.

At least, it wasn’t entirely a lie. You really thought you weren’t going to be here as Jungkook had eagerly agreed to be in your place right now. Part of you wanted to test what he wouldn’t do for you. However, when he came to tell you he’d actually been offered some photography work tonight you couldn’t help but notice the twinkle in his eye. That was something you couldn’t bear to take away from him. After you told him to accept the offer he halfheartedly protested, not wanting to disrupt your plans. But in truth you could tell he was disappointed he wouldn’t be able to go, and you weren’t having a bar of it.

So here you were, checking each iced flower on the tall wedding cake meticulously for any that had fallen off on the trip here. Every few seconds, however, you threw a glance over your shoulder for a certain Mr. Kim. 

“Y/N!” Someone behind you exclaimed, the voice definitely male and you froze, slowly turning to prolong the inevitable. When the groom’s face was the only one you could see your shoulders slumped in relief and returned his smile. “It’s...it’s beautiful, thank you so much. You’ve made my fiance very happy. Oops, wife I should say!” He quickly corrected himself, cheeks flushed red no doubt from the champagne, the glass he held fully and freshly bubbling.

“It’s certainly my pleasure. While I love baking itself there’s something so special in seeing where my goods go,” you observed, peeking out into the main hall where everyone sat about finishing the main course. “However, my work here is done I think.” 

Right as you finished speaking the bride wondered in looking for her now husband, the moment their eyes met a giddy smile broke out on both their faces. The action caused your heart to clench in your chest as she reached out and slotted her hand into his awaiting palm. He drew it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles and she looked away with a grin, suddenly noticing you standing there.

“Oh, Y/N! Are you leaving? Already? Won’t you stay for a drink?”

“I-um...maybe not.” You chewed on your lip. “I really must be going.”

“Just one drink, please?” She insisted, taking the glass from her husband and pushing it into your hand. When she pouted at you in such a way, it was hard to say otherwise.

Well... just one drink won’t hurt.

Two hours and definitely more than one glass of champagne later, you finally bade your farewell. A gust of chilly air rushed past you as you made your way outside, making you grip your arms where goosebumps were forming. God you wished you brought your jacket, how could you have forgotten? At least it was cooling down your cheeks which were flushed bright red and warm from the alcohol you’d had. There was no way you were driving home this evening, you’d have to call for a driver. Or perhaps you could walk as it wasn’t too far. Deciding the latter would be sufficient - and cheaper, not to mention - you set off in the direction of your bakery, weaving around the pedestrians on the footpath.

Other than the wind that picked up and drew a shiver from you, you began to think this wasn’t so bad - until your intoxicated form stumbled on an uneven paving stone. You hit someone square in the back, grabbing the back of their coat to steady yourself as you garbled a hundred apologies. By some miracle the man didn’t fall down and you thanked the heavens, only to take it back as he turned to look at your flustered face.

Low and behold, there stood the very man you were trying to avoid. Kim Taehyung.

“Miss (Y/L/N)? Well, what a pleasant surprise,” he said with a smirk, while embarrassment burned a hole right through you. “What brings you here?” Of course it was just your luck you’d bump into him - literally - right as you were almost out of there. He looked delectable as always, dressed head to toe in finely tailored clothing. His pants were pressed with a perfect crease down the middle of each leg, fine jacket fitting his broad shoulders perfectly. The hat he was wearing, however, captured your attention and you almost forgot he asked you something.

“Oh! I... um... well, you see, I-,” you managed to get out. Words! Use words you fool, you scolded yourself internally. Something about the man in front of you rendered you speechless, yet he only gave you a small smile and waited patiently for you to find your words, stepping back a bit and slipping his hands into his pockets. 

Still, your mind remained blank. The hilarity of the situation hit you and a giggle bubbled forth from your lips. You smacked your hand over your mouth, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth from the numerous glasses of champagne you’d downed. Taehyung looked at you with an endearingly curious expression, brows furrowing with a chuckle. 

“And what, pray tell, is so funny?” He asked quirking an eyebrow, the fact that you failed to answer him did not go unnoticed. You tried to speak but only more laughs came out until your shoulders were shaking with the action, tears welling in your eyes. 

“Your hat is very funny, why is it so strange? It’s lopsided, and flat. What’s this little thing on top?” You reached up to flick at it, not realising how close you had gotten until you softly bumped into his solid frame. 

“Woah, easy there (Y/N).” The words were whispered huskily right into your ear as he steadied you, and you found yourself trembling from his touch as you were caught off guard. “Wouldn't want you to trip and hurt yourself, now would we?”

“N-No, of course not,” you replied, flustered and he eyed you carefully. After a moment he released your arms to shuck off his jacket, and before you could blink it was dropped around your shoulders. The material felt expensive and warm and the delicious smell of his cologne filled your senses, the spicy scent of toasted cinnamon causing you to turn to putty.

“It’s cold tonight,” he observed, looking up to the cloudless sky. You followed his gaze, admiring all the bright stars twinkling in the twilight. This moment was something you wanted to treasure forever, where you stood thinking about nothing but now nice the sky looked and a beautiful man had offered you his jacket to keep you warm. Alas, it had to end eventually. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

His words brought you rushing back to reality, and you looked at him suddenly. “Oh, I was just going to walk but I can call for a driver it’s fine, rea-”

One stern look from him had you shrinking back into the jacket, he was not taking no for an answer and you nodded sheepishly. The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention as a cold shiver gripped your bones, only intensified by an icy gust of wind. His hand slid across your shoulders, pulling you into his warm side as he guided you in the direction of where he must be parked. 

Being the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger seat door for you, and once you were safely in he slipped into the driver's seat. There was a long stretch of comfortable silence as he started the ignition and smoothly pulled out onto the road, his hand not on the steering wheel resting dangerously close to your thigh.

“The hat, it’s called a beret. My younger sister bought it for me while she was studying in France, I should have introduced her the other day.”

“The... other day? Have I seen her before?”

“Yes, in the bakery when our little... accident happened,” he reminisced with a small chuckle, once again finding amusement in your embarrassment.

Suddenly it dawned on you, the young girl he was sitting with when he came over to talk to you. That was his little sister. You were glad he didn’t, seeming as though you’d just made an absolute fool out of yourself in front of her. No wonder she looked so beautiful, they came from the same pool of blessed genes. Silence filled the rest of the journey, and before you knew it the car was no longer moving, Taehyung was opening your door for you again and you stepped out.

The heavy material of his jacket slipped from your shoulders and you handed it back to him as another chilly gust swept past. He accepted it gratefully, putting it back on immediately and shoving his hands back into his pockets. Well, it was now or never you decided.

“Would you… like to come in for a drink?” You offered before you could psych yourself out.

“I don’t really…” he trailed off and immediately you feared you had been too bold.

“Oh. That’s fine, no trouble at all,” you murmured dejectedly. 

“I mean, I don’t drink alcohol. Not if I can help it, I don’t find the taste very pleasant. That and I don’t hold myself well. Some tea would be much appreciated, though,” he proposed.

“Yes… yes, of course. It would be nice to warm up a little.” Uncertainty hung in the air, looming over your head for a moment too long before he nodded. 

“That would be very nice, thank you.”

Your hands fumbled with the keys, loud jingling making you wince as you missed the lock a few times. At this point you’d sobered up quite quickly, the shake of your hand being caused by your nerves betraying you instead of the champagne. It had been quite a good hour since your last glass and you were no longer feeling the effects. Taehyung’s warm hand closed over yours, steadying your shaking fingers and your breath hitched as the metal key slid smoothly into the lock. It was relatively dark and you were glad only the faint light of the streetlamp guided you as you cracked the door open, trembling in anticipation of what was to come. The two of you slipped inside the dark bakery, shoulders brushing as you turned to shut the door and lock it behind you. 

“So… what do you fancy?” You asked, turning to look at his figure which looked all the more enticing half in the shadows. “A cup of tea? Some chocolate croissants, perhaps?”

He only shook his head slowly, taking a step toward you. “What do I fancy, you ask? Well...you.”

“M-me?” You asked, your insides doing a flip in excitement.

“Yes. You like croissants? I bet you’d love Paris, so many incredible pastry chefs there, among… other things.”

“Oh?” 

“It’s a very romantic place, I could take you one day? I’d like that… ” he trailed off and you blinked quickly, unable to look away from his gaze.

“Not just for the pastries?” 

“Not just for the pastries, petal.”

He backed you up against the now locked door, eyes piercing yours with an intensity that made your abdomen clench; however, there was something else in his eyes. Something softer, and you felt that sweetness in the way he ever so slowly pressed against you. The first brush of his lips against yours was not hurried and needy like you expected it to be, and when he pulled away you felt an ache in your heart so strong it left you breathless. 

“Taehyung…” you whispered, breaths beginning to grow heavier as your nerves dissipated to be replaced by lust and longing. He whispered your name back, before sweetly capturing your lips once more, his tongue demanding entrance to explore your mouth which you easily granted. Your fingers fisted in the lapels of his jacket, creases forming in the perfectly ironed material as the feeling of his tongue forcing yours into submission drew a moan from you. A large hand cupped the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself as he pressed you harder against the door, the kiss growing hungrier with each lave of the hot, wet muscle. You guided him back, shuffling blindly around, neither of you daring to interrupt your locked lips or even take a breath. Your back bumped into the counter and finally you broke apart for air, looking at your surroundings, somehow you’d ended up behind the bakery counter.

Taehyung’s hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush to him, and the action drew a gasp from you as you were pressed right up against his solid, throbbing length. The searing heat of it could be felt even through the layers of clothing that still separated your flesh, and your pelvic floor clenched around nothing in retaliation. Suddenly his hold on you tightened and he hoisted you smoothly onto the counter with very little effort. Now that you were at his level he wasted no time in getting right back into it.

“I wondered why it is that you haven’t been swooped up by anybody yet,” he mused between the breathless kisses you’d been enraptured in, fingers still gripping at your soft flesh through the thin material of your dress. 

“There are plenty of other-mmf, pretty and young women in this town, certainly more attractive than I am. Why me?” you whispered against his lips, still pinching yourself that this was really happening. God, it’s been so long since you’d been with a man. His kisses trailed down your jaw, the warmth of his lips pressing into your sensitive neck. 

“Hmm, I suppose,” he hummed, pausing to nibble on the spot just below your ear and you tipped your head back to allow him easier access. “They are very much like flowers, blossoming under the male attention they so desperately crave. They’re only pretty to look at, but that’s it. They might as well be just an accessory. Whereas you, sweet thing, are so much more.”

“B-But... I’m a bit older than you. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Not at all, I really don’t give a shit noona. If that’s something that really matters to people, then they’re shallow and can’t see past something that’s really not that significant.” He growled right into the shell of your ear, his nimble fingers finding the easiest way to remove your dress. You thanked the heavens that you normally close the blinds when you lock up, because Taehyung made quick work of stripping your clothes from your body.

You slid off the counter to kick off the garments that had pooled around your hips, throwing them away into an unknown corner of your shop. Goosebumps arose across your bare skin, and Taehyung’s seized the soft flesh of your hips, hand kneading and moulding, pulling you flush against his hardened cock. He was so warm, and he let out a strangled groan as you reached down to palm him over his trousers. At your coaxing, his cock only seemed to swell further, impossibly large now and he rocked in your hand for friction. The tug on his foreskin only made him moan more, and you were enjoying the way he let his guard down. His mouth found its way to your bare shoulder, sucking pink marks along your neck and collarbone so he quieted somewhat. 

You whimpered when his hands moved down to grab the globes of your ass, groping them and pulling the cheeks apart. Cool air hit your dripping centre and you whined louder, clenching around nothing again. Taehyung relinquished your neck to stand to his full height, smirking at your flushed and needy expression. His eyes trailed down to drink in your naked skin, but he was still fully clothed. Feeling a little exposed, you moved to cover up your bare body. After all, you had a sweet tooth and you did pack a few extra pounds as a result of that. Most of the time you didn’t care, however, in this moment you were particularly caught off guard and feeling a little self conscious. 

“Uh uh uh, I don’t think so sweetheart,” Taehyung purred, grabbing your hands that were snaking up your torso. “Don’t you dare hide yourself from me, not when you’re this beautiful.” He hoisted you back up onto the counter hastily, almost knocking over the jars of toppings and chocolate syrups you had left there. His hand snatched the glass bottle that almost fell, and he smirked like the cat that got the cream. “Caught it this time.”

Without warning he dropped the bottle on the bench and swooped down. His mouth closed over your nipple, hot and wet and you moaned at the feeling, hands coming up to bury themselves in his golden curls. Taehyung nipped and swirled his tongue around the peak with a growl that grew louder the harder you pulled on his hair, giving you no warning before switching over to the other one. Lithe fingers snaked up to pinch and twist your spit-slicked nipple, making you squirm underneath him. Now that both aching peaks were being lavished with attention you squirmed, no lover had ever spoiled you this much and it made you all the more eager to touch him too.

Your hands gripped at the lapels on his expensive jacket, uncaring if it would tear as you attempted to push it off his wide shoulders. He laughed softly against your chest as you whined, straightening up to slowly shuck the garment from himself, never taking his eyes off your heaving chest that was shiny from his ministrations. He peeled off his top half, tugging at his dress shirt until each button popped open slowly revealing smooth honey toned skin to your hungry eyes. Your fingertips reached out to smooth over his chest, bringing little goosebumps to the surface. He had such a lovely body, his pecs firm and full, yet the most delicate and defined collarbones you’d seen on a man. Taehyung’s shoulders were broad with a thick, vascular neck you just wanted to sink your teeth into, and to top it all off his jawline was chiseled like a work of art. Your palms trailed higher and you sat up so you could run them over the expanse of his shoulders and upper back. He shuddered at your ever so gentle touch; fingernails raking featherlight down his back, drawing a soft moan from his lips which you swallowed with your own. You dragged your nails over his hips and dipped the tip of your finger into his navel. He flinched at the action, his stomach clenching away. When you ran your palms over his abdomen he broke the kiss abruptly, turning his face to the side. He didn’t have the most defined stomach, yet you didn’t mind one bit.

“Taehyung, you don’t have anything to be ashamed of either,” you pressed a kiss into his jawline. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” you whispered into his skin. Except for Jungkook something in the back of your mind quipped back and a small sense of guilt arose within you. You knew he felt jealous of your interest in Taehyung, but that was something that could be dealt with another time.

The man standing in front of you turned back and pressed his lips to yours again, groaning when your hand slipped past the waistband of his underwear to grip his bare length. It throbbed as you gave it a few experimental strokes, satisfied at the way he let out an animalistic groan. His hand suddenly gripped your thigh, and he smothered you with his form until you had to let go of his length and lay back. His fingertips were likely leaving indents in your flesh but you didn’t care, not when he was so close to where you desired him most. “Please,” you whimpered breathlessly. His fingers parted your thighs, swearing softly when he touched your folds to instantly have his fingertips coated in your arousal. He paused, lifting them up to inspect them unabashed, drawing his fingers apart to look at the strings of slick. 

“Fuck. You want me that badly, huh? Such a good girl, so wet and eager for me.” His words made you clench, and he definitely felt it as he lightly ran his fingers through your soaked folds, admiring the way they glistened. Taehyung easily sunk two fingers knuckle deep into your heat, crooking them to seek out that sweet bundle of nerves. Needing to feel his lips on yours again you whined while leaning forward, begging him with your eyes. Quickly he obligated, ever the attentive lover. 

After a while your clit was throbbing, crying for his attention. He reached over into one of the jars next to the display cabinet, which you used to touch up any pastries that needed more powdered sugar. A generous amount gathered on the top of his thumb when he dipped it in, and before you could realise what he was doing that same thumb was planted firmly on your pearl of nerves. 

“Taehyung! Mmf, oh my god. That feels so good but you’re gonna give me a yeast infection, fuck.”

“Mmm, not if I lick you clean.” He swooped down, tongue lapping at the now gooey sugar that had somewhat dissolved with your wetness. He suckled at your juices, tongue swiping through your folds against his fingers that were still buried before he trailed up to your clit. His lips pulled the little bud into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth, the nibbling teeth causing your hips to jump at the stimulation. God, his tongue felt like heaven and sin all at once, never before had anyone made you feel this good. Certainly, you’d been missing out in all your previous experiences. His hand reached out, grabbing the bottle of chocolate syrup you’d left on the counter, and he looked over to see what other sweet concoction he’d found.

“Mmm, perfect. Open wide sweetheart,” he smirked. Confused, you opened your mouth slightly to which he found most amusing. His fingers withdrew and you whimpered in complaint before your knees were gripped firmly and pushed apart, spreading your legs wide open for him to see. He drizzled a little of the chocolate syrup onto your glistening folds, a few drops sinking into your entrance. The bottle was quickly dropped onto the counter and his tongue was quick to follow the droplets, shoving the appendage deep into your pussy to chase any of the chocolate before it got away from him. “Fucking hell,” he groaned against your cunt, voice muffled. “This is definitely the best thing I have ever tasted in my entire life. I feel like I could die right here.”

With each delve of his muscle you could feel your skin prickling with heat and anticipation or the climax that was beginning to build. Your neglected nub was once again attacked by lashes of his tongue as he pushed his fingers back in, now intent on watching you fall apart. “That’s it petal, good girl. Come for me, that’s it.”

Without mercy he suckled on your clit and your legs shook as that tension began to release, waves of pleasure spreading through your whole body. No noise came forth from your lips for a few seconds, however you quickly broke that silence and cried out loudly with each wave of your high, Taehyung’s fingers still thrusting to draw out your orgasm.

“Please,” you whimpered, looking up at him almost in tears.

“Please what? Use your words,” he growled, already pulling at his belt and letting his pants and underwear fall around his ankles. “What do you need, tell me sweetheart.”

“Need your cock. Please please Taehyung, I want it so bad.” His hand that was soaked with your juices reached down to fist his hardened length, a few drops of precum dripping onto your abdomen. He groaned loudly at the sight, at the way your eyes twinkled in want when you looked at his throbbing appendage. “I want… god I want to suck you off so bad, but I fucking need you. Now.” 

The thought of it had him swearing softly, imagining you on your knees before him. He almost came there at the thought of sinking his cock in between your pretty lips, feeling the back of your warm, wet throat constricting him like the perfect girl you were. However, you looked so beautiful spread out across the counter, he’d rather keep you right where you were. Besides, he was so worked up, he really didn’t need your first impression to be of him finishing too early. “Another time, my sweet. Right now I just really need to be inside you.”

To emphasise his point, the head of his cock ran through your glistening folds, the friction on your clit causing your legs to twitch in overstimulation.  “Kim Taehyung, if you don’t put your dick in me right n-oh!”

Your sentence turned into a gasp as the tip of his dick pushed at your entrance, and the first inch sunk in with a little resistance from how much your walls tried to clamp down, welcoming the intrusion. He bent down over the top of you, possessively capturing your lips with his as the rest of his length split your walls, sinking in to the hilt. It was like heaven, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered what being stretched by his girthy cock would feel like. As if he couldn’t be any more perfect, of course he had to be so well fucking endowed. It almost hurt how big he was, you noticed as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him. Almost. 

Moments passed where both of you simply panted heavily, his face buried into the crook of your neck. “One second, just give me one second or I swear I’m gonna cum. You feel like fucking heaven, noona.” You nodded, incapable of coherent words in that blissful moment. 

“Such beautiful tits,” he groaned as his mouth sucked marks across your collar bones, lips seeking out a peak to torment once more. “Tell me, sweet thing. Who’s tits are these?”

“Yours, Tae. Oh god, they’re all yours.” Came your breathy moan, the strands of his honeyed hair tickling your skin as he dragged his face over to the other nipple.

“Good girl,” he quipped. “What about this pussy, hm?” To emphasise his question he slowly pulled his length from where it was buried in your cunt, driving it back in with an even slower thrust that had you keening desperately at the delicious burn.

“Yours, yours! Just fuck me, please!” 

“Well, since you’re such a good girl who asked so nicely…” After a second he straightened up, hands gripping your hips tightly as he withdrew only to bury himself in your cunt again, hips smacking into the flesh of your ass from the force of his thrust. Once he could tell you had adjusted comfortably to his size he picked up the speed, beginning a much faster pace, the sound of skin slapping filling the otherwise quiet bakery. You threw your head back over the counter, the slight feeling of blood rushing to your head making the sensations of Taehyung’s cock all the more intense. 

Neither of you heard the key opening the door, nor saw the figure that froze in the entry, unable to see anything from outside due to the drawn curtains. Jungkook's eyes were wide much like a deer caught in the headlights, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin. Your heaving breasts looked deliciously perky with the way your head was thrown over the counter, noises he’d only ever dreamed of hearing spilling forth from your parted lips. His shocked expression soured, however, when he realised it was Taehyung standing between your spread legs, his cock plunging into your centre and making your face twist in ecstasy. You hadn’t realised he was there yet, eyes closed and still making little mewls with each of Taehyung’s thrusts, now deep and slow, almost teasing you. The elder looked up and simply smirked once their eyes locked, just who he’d been hoping for. Taehyung was the obvious alpha male, and he could see the way Jungkook’s pants were already straining.

“Mmm, harder... please,” you cried out, ankles locking around Taehyung’s waist so he couldn’t stop what he was doing.

“You want me to fuck you harder, noona? You know ever since the first time I saw you, I’ve fantasized about taking you nice and hard over this quaint little countertop. Have you, noona? Or perhaps you’d been too busy fantasizing about your little assistant, hm? You’d love to have him fuck you like this you dirty girl, isn’t that right? Answer me, or I’ll stop.” He teased, voice becoming a little strained with heavy breaths. His eyes were still locked on Jungkook, mocking the astounded boy.

“Oh god, yes. Fuck yes I’d love to have Kookie fuck his noona like this, oh fu-I think I’m gonna come again Tae.”

“Already? Are you gonna come thinking about Kookie?”

“Yes, hng-ughh Tae, and you! Gonna come, o-oh, because of you!” You cried, each syllable growing in volume the closer you grew to your orgasm.

“Go on noona, show me how much you love my cock,” he permitted, thumb coming back to your clit to pinch and rub the bundle of nerves, pushing you toward your climax. Right as you began to peak, he hooked your legs over his shoulders and began furiously pounding into you. The new angle and pace had you hurtling into a powerful, leg shaking orgasm which made Taehyung curse. You looked so beautiful, and you had a little audience for him to show off to. You were screaming so perfectly, perhaps you secretly knew Jungkook was watching the whole exchange. 

When you came down from your high, panting and swearing softly he pressed a kiss to the inside of your leg. “You’re so pretty when you come, my lovely. Don’t you think so, Jungkook?”

Your eyes flew open to see an upside down, very shocked Jungkook. The two of you were at a standstill for a moment, before you quickly tried to sit up and cover yourself. Taehyung’s hand was gently pushing you to lie back down, he suddenly leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Noona, (Y/N) darling. Don’t you want sweet little Kookie to join us? You want to suck him off while I fuck you nicely, hmm?” His words sounded so sweet, and you clenched around him at the very thought. He chuckled, that was just about all the confirmation he needed. However, he waited until you nodded, not going ahead without your clear consent. 

When Jungkook saw you nod, he was in complete disbelief. You wanted him? His length throbbed painfully in the confines of his pants, feeling so tight it might almost rip through the fabric. Despite being upside down, you could still clearly see the outline of the colossal bulge.

“Come here,” Taehyung barked, tutting in annoyance when the younger man still seemed to be rooted to the spot, too stunned to move. “Jeon, I suggest you move your ass if you want your dick sucked.” At his words Jungkook snapped out of his stupor, eagerly striding over to stand above you. 

The younger man was impatiently undoing the buttons on his pants, pulling them down and grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking it over his head, forgoing the buttons altogether. His length sprung forth, already looking angrily red and leaking copious amounts of precum. 

The temptation to taste him was too strong, and you stretched your neck to run your tongue along his dripping cock, pressing sloppy kisses, all the while looking up at him with innocent yet sultry eyes. He swore softly at the sight, pulling back to allow your lips to envelop the head of his cock, tongue swirling around his slit to gather the salty drops which kept leaking. He whimpered loudly, finally knowing what it felt like to sink his cock between his noona’s lips. You relaxed your gag reflex, eyes raking up his body. He was definitely a sight to behold, a sheen of sweat already glazing his glorious chest, making his abs - seriously, how did this boy have them - even more drool worthy. Although you were already drooling. 

His eyes were glued to your mouth, and the way it easily took his cock with each gentle thrust, he was careful not to make you gag. Although, you had other ideas. Your hands sneaked up, gripping the flesh of his bare behind as you relaxed your throat, feeling his hips jerk as he slid in the rest of the way and bottomed out. He groaned, whole body shuddering in pleasure, unable to stop his hips from jerking forward to chase the euphoria he found between your lips. The rather hard thrust had you choking a little, eyes tearing up but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Jungkook was being so vocal, moaning and cursing so much you were sure anyone outside could hear. When you gagged again, inhaling deeply through your nose he pulled back, giving you a small reprieve and letting you breathe through your mouth. It was at the moment the man standing between your legs, who had been enjoying the show decided it was time to remind you of his presence. 

You cried out sharply when Taehyung’s throbbing length buried itself into your sopping heat once again, the movement jolting you and causing Jungkook’s cock to sink back into your throat. He began to swear as both men thrust into you, using your body to get themselves off. Hungrily, like he thought he might never get the opportunity to witness this again, Jungkook’s eyes raked over your soft body. The way your breasts bounced with every thrust, nipples stiff and slick from his elder’s mouth. Then your wonderful thighs, rippling each time Taehyung drove his hips into them. Jungkook always knew you would have such a beautifully soft body, he just wanted to knead you with his hands and run his tongue over every inch, every curve you had. There was so much slick shining on the inside of your thighs, loud squelch noises from each time Tae’s cock pushed into you. He wasn’t going to last much longer, not with the way moaned and swirled your tongue around his length.

After a few minutes Taehyung could feel how you were clamping down on his cock again as it dragged against your sweet spot with each thrust, you were getting close once more. His own pleasure twisted sharply in his abdomen, tightening dangerously quickly. The pad of his thumb pressed down on your clit once more, rubbing furious circles to get you to finish before he did. “One more, I want you to come one more time for me, noona. For us.” 

Your climax came to a peak and you squealed, Jungkook’s length popping out of your mouth to make way for the wails of pleasure as your legs shook. You reached out to pump him in your hand, and the sound of your moans as you came was all it took for Jungkook to swear and suddenly he was coming too. You took him back in your mouth quickly, grabbing his hips and pulling him so his cum spurted to the back of your throat.

“Fuck! Oh my-oh fucking hell noona, oh,” he all but yelled, whole body trembling as he climaxed.

Suddenly Taehyung could hold on no longer either, he stilled and you moaned louder as warmth flooded deep inside you as he came, your pussy clenching unconsciously at how good it all felt. Jungkook whined in overstimulation when he pulled out, but your  lips drew the top of his cock back into your mouth to suckle at the remains of his salty release, the sensation of your tongue lapping against his frenulum almost too much for him.

He pulled out, your tongue licking your lips to collect any remains as you bathed in post orgasm bliss. Taehyung’s cock softened, slipping out of your swollen pussy as the three of you panted, catching your breath. 

Jungkook leaned on the bench, looming over you and he flashed a hopeful smile. The same that made your heart flutter so innocently each morning, the slightest glimmer of potential for something more between you two. However,  you’d just sucked him off while another man fucked you. 

Now that the hazy headspace had cleared, embarrassment came forth unbridled and you couldn’t stand to be around a moment longer. You slipped off the counter, wobbly legs barely able to support you as you hastily picked up your clothes. It seems that Taehyung had the same idea as he was quickly dressed, buttoning up his shirt and snatching his jacket up off the floor.

“Well…” he began with, looking between the three of you. “Looks like you two have something to talk about. I’d best be going, see you around.” With that, he was out the door. Gone. It brought your memory back to the first time you’d met him, watching him walk out of the door. Things had been so much more simple then, when you weren’t sleeping with two men at once. You didn’t waste another second dwelling in the awkward tension between you and Jungkook as you rushed upstairs without another word.

The next three weeks were awkward to say the least. Conversation was somewhat scarce between both yourself and your assistant, and you feared you’d forever ruined your relationship with him. Jungkook was barely conversing with you, and whenever it was necessary he gave one word answers at best. 

It was now that you realised he always used to say things such as let me do it, or I made extra of your favourite. It was in the small things, the everyday gestures that your feelings began to steadily blossom, nothing like the grand and unrealistic romance you so desired. Now Jungkook felt so far away, perhaps he despised you now. All because you had to be stupid and greedy, turning a blind eye to the blessing that was right in front of you all along and pursuing someone you have convinced you were good enough for. 

Since that night, Taehyung had not been back to the bakery.

In fact, you had not heard from him at all. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t shed a tear or two over it, after how sweet he’d been in the beginning. The larger part of your conscience, the more irrational part urged you to wait around like a stupid damsel in distress. Hoping that maybe he would walk back in through that door with the little jingle of the bell and make you smile like the idiot you were, pretending nothing had ever gone wrong.  But the more rational part wanted to beat that other part to a pulp, it was far more likely that he had been sweet, like honey for one reason. To lure you in like the silly little fly you were, walking right into his web. How many other girls had he been with in three weeks? Was that really his sister, or did he just tell that to women he’s luring in to make them let their guard down? Just like you had. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping, it was a perfect day, but strangely a little warm. Beads of sweat rolled down your temple, and you wiped them away with the back of your arm as your hands were covered in flour and dough. God, it was unusually warm this morning.

You turned around from your workstation, looking for your rolling pin on one of the other benches. Incidentally your eyes met Jungkook’s and his gaze darted away abruptly, pretending to also look for something. Guilt gnawed at you, knowing that you had caused his embarrassment. After all, you confessed you wanted him in the way he wanted you and then proceeded to mope after Taehyung, not looking at him twice. 

You took your anger out on the innocent dough, squashing it angrily between your fingers absent mindedly. You kept muttering see you around in a mocking tone before realizing it was now over kneaded. Great, now you had a suitor on the run, an assistant that was giving you the silent treatment, and your bread would be flat and overly tough. At least your favourite apricot jam would make it taste better, and you couldn’t help craving another serving you mused as you cleaned the sticky dough from your hands.

The delicious smell of the fresh bread wafted from the racks where they rested, and you sought out a tray that had mostly cooled. When you pulled it out, resting the heavy tray on your chest as you normally did, you yelped and dropped it on the bench with a loud bang. The apple that Jungkook had been about to chop skidded across the floor as he dropped it and rushed over to you.

“Noona! Are you alright?! What happened?!” 

You gritted your teeth and breathed in through your nose, wincing at how unusually sore your breasts were. Jungkook reached for your cheek, and his hands in your face smelled strongly of apple juice, almost burning your nostrils with its potency. Sudden nausea gripped at your stomach, twisting your insides and making you feel queasy. You pushed past Jungkook and sprinted up the stairs, hearing Jungkook’s heavy footsteps right behind you. You barely reached the bathroom before you fell to your knees, heaving over the toilet bowl to empty your stomach.

“(Y/N)!” A distressed Jungkook cried out from the doorway before crouching down, hands still incredibly gentle as they reached to sweep your hair out of the way. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?!” An answer didn’t make it past your lips however, only more of your breakfast. Jungkook was audibly panicked, but still rubbed comforting circles on your back as you continued to throw up. “That’s it, get it all out,” he murmured.

Your mouth tasted foul and as soon as you stood up you were reaching for your toothbrush. He was glued to your side, picking up a cloth to wipe away at the vomit that was on your chin, still asking a million questions. Embarrassed, you waved him away even though the tender action made your heart squeeze. So he still cared? “I’m fine Kook, I just don’t know why I’m throwing up all of a sudden, I didn’t eat anything that was off…”

He was still insistent on fussing, telling you to go to the doctor if you couldn’t explain your sudden illness. You wondered back into the bedroom, wracking your brain for any inclination as to why it might me, thinking of your symptoms. Your gaze landed on your little clock on your dresser which displayed the date, eyes widening when things began clicking into place. Your period was also a week late, you had sore breasts and morning sickness. You slapped a hand over your mouth muffling the distressed whine that left your lips, words not coming to you at the moment from the shock.

You were pregnant. 

Jungkook tentatively touched your shoulder making both of you flinch as the initial shock wore off, and the harsh reality of it came crashing over you. Your eyes flickered to Jungkook’s wide ones, concern evident at the tears brimming in your eyes. “Noona? (Y/N)? What’s wrong? Why... Why are you crying?” God, he was so innocent sometimes, of course he hadn’t caught on yet. 

“K-Kook,” you all but whimpered, voice breaking from the way your throat constricted in an attempt to hold back the sobs. “I-... I think I’m pregnant,” came your confession, barely audible, but Jungkook’s ears picked it up well enough. You could barely look him in the eyes, your own watery with tears and you sounded so defeated.

He crushed you to his chest, his arms enveloping your frame in a warm hug, and you never wanted him to let you go. The sobs came forth unbridled now and you buried your face into the crook of his neck, drenching his shirt with your tears. 

“Is it really such a bad thing?” He whispered to you between shushes. “Noona, you know I’ll always stick by you, right? No matter what. I’ll be here even if that bastard isn’t,” he murmured and you trembled all the more from his sweet words.

You pulled back so you could look him in the eye, offering a weak and watery smile. “Oh Jungkook, I really don’t deserve you.”

“Nonsense,” he chastised quickly, a warm thumb coming up to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks. “I really like you noona, like a lot.” 

“I do too, Kookie. God, I’m so sorry,” you chuckled, pinching his dimple softly before burying your hand in your apron for a handkerchief. “I just thought, you know...you’d want to be with someone a bit closer to your a-”

Your words were cut off when Jungkook covered your mouth and nose with his own handkerchief, wiping away the snot and you had no doubt you looked a complete mess. Blubbering away and confessing your feelings to a younger man, knocked up by another.

“I don’t want to hear that, ever again. Okay? Besides I’ve been fantasizing about calling you my girlfriend for as long as I’ve been working for you. Do you have any idea how happy I am right now? I don’t care about not being the father of this child, as long as I have you by my side I know I can do anything.” He pecked your lips suddenly, prompting a brighter smile from you which warmed his heart to see you no longer upset about everything. You snaked your arm around the top of his shoulders, grinning as he brought your lips back together. You melted into his arms as you deepened the kiss, but he flinched back a bit.

“What? What’s wrong? Did I do someth-”

“No, nothing’s wrong it’s just...your mouth kinda tastes like vomit still. Sorry.” The two of you burst into laughter, a bit of lightness in the otherwise serious situation. You moved back into the bathroom to begin scrubbing your teeth clean while Jungkook, unable to relinquish you from his hands as if you’d disappear if he let go, kept rubbing comforting circles on your hips. He looked deep in thought. “I’ll get a hold of Taehyung, I promise. While I know you probably despise him right now, I think he has a right to know about the baby.”

Silently you nodded, uncertainty and nervousness swirling deep within your stomach. Jungkook was right, you should tell Taehyung but what would his reaction be? Would he be angry? God, he seemed so nice, so genuine. Maybe it really was just some elaborate plan to seduce you, how many other women had fallen prey to his charms you wondered. Perhaps this was not the first time a woman had tracked him down after being knocked u-

“(Y/N)? It’s alright, just don’t dwell on it okay?” His hands trailed up to rub your shoulders, drawing a long sigh from you. “We’ll make an appointment with the doctor first, yeah? Just to be sure. I’ll even come with you.” 

You turned and buried your face into the crook of his neck again, so over the moon to have such support. You don’t know what you did to deserve this, to deserve him. 

“Do you think people would mind if we opened… a bit late today?” You asked him, fingers creeping up his chest to play with his collar as you looked at him suggestively.

He wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders, giving you a soft squeeze. You whined at the action, causing your tender breasts to ache. In retaliation you reached down and groped the firm flesh of his behind. Instantly he bucked forward, seeking friction and pushing his quickly hardening length into your abdomen. 

“You mean..” he gaped, beaming down at you with an expression so endearing and so excited it made you giddy. Firm hands found his chest, and you guided him back out of the bathroom and pushed him onto the bed, immediately tugging at the buttons on his work pants. His swollen cock sprung out immediately, already rock hard and dripping precum, so eager to finally bury itself in you completely.

He helped you to yank his trousers down quickly, shoes and all getting kicked off in a hurry. You swore you could hear his shirt tearing a little as he ripped it over his head, his hair becoming messed up in his haste Jungkook yanked you into his reach so he could strip you, much like a child at Christmas, uncaring about the poor wrapping paper and eager to get to his present. Fighting him would be useless with the way your eyes drank in his impressive physique.

Once you were completely bare you grabbed his shoulders, clambering on top of him and reaching between the two of you to grab his dick, running the leaking tip through your damp folds. As you sunk down a few inches you had to stop, the stretch from just how fat his cock was leaving you breathless for a moment. Tiny rocks up and down allowed your walls to adjust before you took a breath and bottomed out, Jungkook threw his head back, exposing his deliciously thick neck to your hungry eyes. The urge to mark it was far too strong, and you didn’t hesitate to bend forward to suckle on the skin, little red and purple marks blossoming. 

You immediately got to work grinding your hips back and forth, only seeming to drive Jungkook even crazier. After a few minutes he pushed you to sit back up, the need to see your body again too much yet he couldn’t decide where to look. Your breasts swayed in his face with every rock of your body and it was so hard for him to resist bucking his hips upwards. The sight of your pussy lips swallowing every inch of his throbbing cock again and again was truly something to behold, and it felt a thousand times better. Or your beautiful face, contorted in the most blissful expressions, consumed by the pleasure. At a particularly loud moan you let out he thrusted up, grunting at the feeling of you clenching around him. 

Jungkook seized your hips, planting his feet on the bed and began pounding his thick length into you without mercy. Caught off guard, you collapsed onto your hands at the sharp spike of pleasure in your belly, your cries muffled as you buried your face into Jungkook’s damp neck. He too smelled heavenly when you were this close, his natural woody musk overloading your senses with each sharp inhale of breath.

He sat up so you were face to face, the position rather intimate, but was quickly bending down to draw one of your nipples into his mouth, nipping softly. “Ah! Be g-gentle, please Kookie. They’re so sensitive right no-ow.”

“Mmm. Can’t wait ‘til they’re all heavy and swollen with milk, I bet you’d taste so sweet noona.” He practically growled, suddenly possessive at the thought.

“Kook! Oh my-oh god, harder. Please please harder baby. You gonna fuck your noona nice and hard?” You begged, running your fingers through the dark, curly locks on his head. Quickly he gripped your waist tighter and flipped you onto your back in an impressive show of strength, quick to re-acquaint you with the delicious stretch as his cock buried itself back inside you and resumed a brutal pace. He was a rather energetic lover it seemed.

“You feel so good noona, oh my god! Fuck I-I’m not gonna last much longer, not when I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Ugh, it’s okay baby. I’m mfph almost th-there, oh!”

Your arms anchored themselves on his broad shoulders as you jolted from the force of his thrusts, one hand snaking up to thread into the dark hair at the nape of his neck and he whined louder between laboured breaths. Right as he let out a long high pitched moan you felt his whole body tremble, warmth gushing deep in your abdomen as he came. However, Jungkook was ever the soldier and continued on slamming his hips into yours and you finally tipped over the edge. Your walls clenched and fluttered, eyes rolling back into your head. Yet he still continued even as you felt the sticky mess of his cum getting pushed deeper with each thrust, more still filling you. The sounds you were making must have been bothering the neighbours, slapping skin and cries of ecstasy. But neither of you could help it because it had felt like heaven. God, why hadn’t you done this earlier?

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided he dropped onto his forearms, cock going limp and slipping out of your abused pussy. 

“Noona.” His chest heaved with his efforts but he couldn’t resist nuzzling into the crook of your now sweaty neck, and your heart clenched with the affection. “That was amazing, so much better than I ever could have imagined. Well...have been imagining.”

“Jungkook, baby,” you breathed, panting heavily. “I’d love to stay like this forever but I’m gonna dirty the sheets, can you grab me a washcloth from the bathroom please?”

He pecked your cheek and sprung up immediately, kicking off his pants that still clung to one leg so they wouldn’t trip him and headed toward the bathroom. Your eyes dropped to his bare behind and you all but drooled, it truly looked so much better without his pants obscuring the view.

“Or,” you began and he paused, turning back to you as you flipped on your side, attempting to strike a seductive pose. Rather it seemed he was the seductor, unknowingly posed like a Roman statue, his body half twisted in a way that accentuated all his best features while gravity accentuated your worst. However, his eyes raked over your figure, insatiable. “How about we just take a shower together? Save some water, hmm-oh Jungkook!” You squealed as he easily hoisted you up bridal style, pecking your lips. 

“I think that sounds like a very good idea, shall we?” He asked, carrying you in the direction of the bathroom already sporting another semi.

Three weeks. You were three weeks pregnant, the life inside you so tiny yet had already become such a huge part of your life in just one day. Jungkook was still diligently stuck by your side, and earlier today he’d tried ringing Taehyung’s office to try and speak with him. However, he was told that the elder was not available. All that could be done was to leave a message with his secretary. 

You pondered what he might say as the two of you walked arm in arm on your way home from the doctor’s office late in the afternoon. Again, two parts of you rationed with one another. He did just start a new job, perhaps that would explain his absence for almost a month. 

Three days, the more rational part of you argued. It was a common rule you’d heard the women gush about over tea in your shop, that no suitor was too busy to contact you at some point in three days. If they didn’t then you simply weren’t a priority for them, not that it mattered anyway. You were loyal to Jungkook now, he was certainly a priority to you.

But there was something about Taehyung, the extent of his genuine nature was incredibly difficult to fabricate. It kept nagging at you in the back of your mind, to just wait, to give him the benefit of the doubt when he finally did come forward. Or maybe you were just being hormonal and making things up to comfort yourself. A distraction was what you needed.

You tipped your head back to breathe in the fresh air. The sky was dusted with a pretty pink and orange colour as the sun set, and you thought would make a nice picture.

“Oh, by the way. I never asked you about the job you got, taking photographs, did you have fun? It is what you came here for after all.” A heavy sigh followed from the man by your side, which definitely caught your attention. “Jungkook? What is it?”

“It was alright, I probably could have enjoyed it more. I just couldn’t help but feel really disappointed the whole time. I wanted to like it more but I just... couldn’t,” he trailed off with yet another deep sigh, his fourth this evening.

“What do you mean? Is it not what you want to do anymore?” You questioned, bringing your other hand to his arm to rub comforting circles. He shook his head, fumbling in his coat pocket for the keys and unlocking the door. 

“No, it’s not what I want anymore. As a hobby I think it’s okay, but I’ve completely fallen in love with working here, with baking,” he paused before pushing the door open, turning back to you. “But most importantly, (Y/N). I’ve fallen in love with you. My beautiful noona.” 

Your eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, Jungkook. I-”

“You don’t have to say it back right away. Take all the time you need, I’d wait for you forever.”

He began to head inside but you grabbed his arm firmly, and he looked back at you with a startled expression. “I do, I absolutely do. The feelings, they’ve always been there but I’ve just been afraid to act on them. But... I do love you, more than you know.” 

The pure expression of elation that spread across his face made your heart ache, and you just had to kiss it, to kiss him. He let out a little gasp of surprise when you grabbed his cheeks and pulled him to you, pressing your lips together. It was only when you let out a little shiver that he pulled away, ushering you inside and away from the nippy wind.

Now that you were significantly warmer you let out a long yawn, fatigue making your eyelids feel heavy. Jungkook pulled you to him again, pressing a kiss against your hair, the action would never cease to make your heart flutter. “I’ll lock up, you go upstairs to bed noona. I love you,”

“Goodnight Jungkook, I love you too,” you murmured back sleepily with a smile. Reluctantly you slipped out of his warm arms, making the treacherously long haul up to the first floor where your dwelling resided. Once he was sure you’d safely made it up the stairs, he fished around in his pocket for the keys, turning around to lock the door. However, he froze at the figure who stood looming in the doorway.

Taehyung.

You awoke later to the other side of the bed cold and empty, the feeling of a rough tongue licking at your cheek.You stirred with a groan, waiting for the grogginess to subside while you waved your cat away, hearing him pounce onto the floor and out into the kitchen. His demands to be fed grew louder and louder until you simply couldn’t ignore him, and you dragged yourself out of bed to the empty kitchen. Once Jiji’s bowl was filled and he was happily eating you noticed how quiet it was. That’s strange, where was Jungkook?

The clinking of silverware and a light on downstairs caught your attention. You scratched the back of your head in thought as you made your way down into the back room, but when you emerged  at the bottom of the stairs you froze.

“Noona!” Jungkook suddenly exclaimed, rushing forth and the loud scrape of the chairs as both men shot up caused you to  jump a little. You put our hand out to stop him approaching and he paused, your shock only grew when you noticed Jungkook was sporting a black eye, and he squirmed on the spot while you gawked at him. While you were concerned, you had something - well someone - more important to address. “Um… Taehyung is back… ” 

“I noticed, Jungkook,” you gritted, trying to keep a strong front in front of them. 

Moisture sprung to your eyes and it made Taehyung’s heart clench, seeing you look so similar to a cornered animal. One wrong move and you would likely bolt back up the stairs. You were frustrated with yourself because you didn’t expect to cry immediately, but seeing the father of your unborn child proved to affect you more than you thought it would. 

“(Y/N)... ” He began, taking a small step toward you, his arms reaching out with the urge to comfort you. However, you gave him a dirty look which had Taehyung quickly retracting and not coming any closer. “I know you’re upset… and angry… and confused-”

“Correct,” you quipped.

“But there’s an explanation, I promise,” he pleaded, waiting with baited breath before you crossed your arms and gave a tiny nod heavy with trepidation. “I wanted to come and see you personally the following morning, believe me I truly did. But something happened with my father and the company, I had to go overseas urgently.”

“For almost a month? You couldn’t have at least written to me? A telegram? Even a goddamn smoke signal was too much effort for you?” 

“I did! I wrote you a letter and left it here early in the morning before I left, I even put my return address on it so you could write back to me while I was away. I was waiting to hear from you, and the whole time I thought you’d gotten my letter and didn’t want to see me anymore, because of Jungkook.”

A tiny twinge of guilt arose within you, your gut instinct had been right. He had tried to do the right thing. “I’m sorry Taehyung, I didn’t get any letter from you.” You truly were apologetic, a part of you now wished that things had played out differently and you’d given him a chance. But you couldn’t change the past now, and Jungkook was rooted firmly in your heart. Besides, if you had to choose between the two, you’re sure you would never be able to come to a decision.

“I apologise for leaving so quickly that day, but I needed some time to think as it wasn’t just the two of us anymore. A third party had become...involved. But before I could see you in person again I had to go. Hopefully you’ll accept this,” he trailed off, gesturing to a small box on the table. Gingerly you slipped past him to pick it up, gasping when a small glass flower was inside. “When I was in Paris, I saw this in a shop window and immediately thought of you and the first time we met. Finally I got you a flower that won’t wither away and die.”

“Taehyung...it’s lovely, but I don’t really think it’s appropriate for me to accept gifts like this from you anymore. I love Jungkook now. Any contribution from you from now on should be for the b-” You stopped your words suddenly, did Jungkook tell him yet? 

“The baby? My...baby. Yes. Jungkook told me.” His eyes flickered down to your stomach. “Oh (Y/N), I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’ll support you one hundred percent, I should have been more careful.”

“Well… we should have been more careful. But you’re not mad?” You questioned, chewing on your lip nervously.

“What?! Why would I be mad at you? I… God I just want to touch your stomach so bad. Can I? Please?” He practically begged, and you felt a laugh bubble up against your will. You’d never seen him pout before. Gently you grabbed his hand, guiding his large palm against the flat of your abdomen and unintentionally pulling him closer. At his proximity your heart rate picked up, old feelings stirring at the warm cinnamon you could smell on him. No, you couldn’t think of him that way anymore. 

You diverted your gaze, instead making eye contact with your lover Jungkook while Taehyung rubbed soft circles on your stomach. Things would be… unconventional from now on, to say the least. 

“I just...don’t want to miss out on this,” Taehyung whispered. “Watching your belly grow, feeling the little kicks. I don’t have a child yet, and I’ve always been so excited to be a father. But it’s a shame things turned out this way…”

“Which is why we wanted to talk to you (Y/N).” Jungkook suddenly piped up, having been unusually quiet and relaxed this whole time. “Hyung… I mean Taehyung and I have been speaking all night.”

“I got the message from him and came to see you as soon as I got back, only to watch you kiss him instead. I must admit I was incredibly jealous and originally I planned on talking calmly, but that’s not quite what happened. We started fighting, and then we started... kissing.” He admitted, looking slightly abashed. You, however, were utterly shocked and kept looking between the two trying to imagine such a thing.

“Wait...what?! You two kissed? Each other?”

“Well, yes and then it escalated.” Taehyung murmured with a smirk, peering over to Jungkook. He looked nervous, his hand coming up to touch the back of his neck. That’s when you saw it, many more marks peeking out from under his collar than what you’d left on him. “One thing turned into another and, we ended up having sex. Your table is wobbly now, sorry about that, but this kid’s stamina is no joke.” 

Your jaw almost hit the ground, a whole mix of different emotions hitting you. The first being sorrow and betrayal, tears once more beginning to well in your eyes. But you quickly felt yourself growing angry, after all your partner had technically cheated on you with another man. 

“Jeon Jungkook, you treacherous whore,” you snarled, rubbing your temples at the headache this confusion was bringing you. “I just have one question...why? I thought you two hated one another.” 

“We just couldn’t see past the jealousy we both had over you. But once we actually started getting to know one another a bit more, we actually realised we have a lot in common and are willing to explore that further.” Jungkook explained. “I think the three of us could make it work, that way everyone is happy.”

“You mean… we’d all be together? You’re both okay with that? You actually like each other?” You questioned, to which they smiled and nodded. On the one hand, you would get to have what you’d secretly desired which was both men at the same time. The idea had your heart skipping a beat with excitement, thinking about all the sweet words they’d say, and soft mornings you’d share. How well you’d be taken care of, in many ways. But what if things didn’t work out? What if they grew too jealous and the relationship deteriorated? Apprehension weighed heavily in the air. However, if you never even gave it a shot you would never know what could have been. 

“Noona? Do you need more time to think about it?” Taehyung asked gently. Did you? You looked up at both of them, their soft gazes making you feel like the most treasured woman in the world. Ever so subtly their hands brushed together, fingers intertwining. Something in your gut told you this was the right thing to do, and you reached up to take a hand in one of theirs.

“I’m willing to try.” You told them, biting your lip to soften the huge grin. 

“Really?!” They both exclaimed in unison, eyes wide and you were suddenly tugged into their embrace. Uncontrollable giggles consumed you, and you pecked each of them on the lips.

 “I have a feeling the three of us will go together like sugar, spice and everything nice.”

It was still rather early in the morning, the sun only very faintly peeking through the curtains in your bedroom window. Still, your body was beginning to make its demands known no matter what time it may be. Jungkook was warm against your back, his arm slung over your waist, and you couldn’t stop the way you squirmed and panted softly. God, you had woken up so aroused it was almost painful. At your excessive movement he pulled you tighter to him, and you gasped at the feeling of his morning erection pressing against the soft flesh of your behind. He grumbled something unintelligible into your neck but you didn’t care, you needed him right now.

“Jungkook,” you whined, turning to face him a little more. “Please baby, please.” 

“Oh?” He definitely heard you loud and clear as he raised his head, but before he could even say more you threw your leg over his hip and began grinding your sopping apex against his clothed length. The angle was awkward but you didn’t care as it provided some well needed friction. 

Immediately his hands gripped at your swollen breasts, fingers pinching your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your nightgown, and you cried out  from the sudden pleasure. “God,” he growled in your ear. “You need me that much, huh? Can’t even wait until Tae gets here?”

“No, I can’t wait. I need you right fucking now Kookie, please.” There was desperation in your tone now, and you sounded like you were on the verge of tears.

“Alright noona, of course. You know I could never say no to you,” he whispered into your cheek, pressing a soft kiss there. His hands travelled further down your body, smoothing over your swollen tummy like he always loved doing. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, aren’t you? So desperate for me, begging to be stuffed full of cock. I can’t wait until I can fill you up with my cum and get you nice and pregnant again, with my baby.”

You rolled over onto your knees, propping your weight on your forearms. Jungkook groaned at the sight it presented him with as your gown slipped down your back, your weeping cunt glistening with your arousal, so engorged and throbbing with your pregnancy. He shot up, coming to kneel behind you so he could get a closer look. Jungkook ran his thumb through your folds, cock aching at the way you clenched and whined. There was so much slick, he couldn’t believe how wet you were, a little leaking down and dripping onto the bed from his ministrations. You became pliant, pushing back against his fingers as far as your stomach would allow, desperately wanting him to bury them into you, anything to ease that empty feeling.

“Careful sweetheart, gotta make sure you and bub are okay first,” he murmured into your ear, hands smoothing over your stomach again as he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Let’s take this off.” 

His hands bundled up the bottom of your night dress, patiently waiting until you lifted each knee off the bed so it wasn’t caught and gently peeled it from your panting form. The cool morning air nipped at your exposed skin, every inch of you flushed hot. You leaned back, Jungkook’s chest plastered to you, your puffy nipples hardening quickly when Jungkook pinched them between his fingers. Milky droplets began beading and dripping down your front, drawing a long moan at the sensitivity of them. 

“You’re so amazing, oh my god. Do you have any idea how often I’ve imagined you like this? So perfectly swollen and pregnant, so incredibly fertile. Breasts so soft and brimming with milk. You’re such a good girl for Hyung and I, you’re gonna let us fill you up again and again aren’t you?” He continued his groping while whispering filthy things in your ear, you were so worked up it was almost painful. 

“I-If you keep doing that, uhh fuck Kookie, baby. I think I might come, oh.” At your whining he gave an extra hard pinch, and little droplets of white sprinkled across the bed sheets, some dripping down your chest onto your stomach. He relented for a second to tear off his pajamas in record time, giving you barely a second’s warning before the hardness of his scalding cock was sliding into the cleft of your asscheeks, a moan breaking out from him at how soaked it got. With one hand your fingers twisted in the bedsheets, the other trying to reach behind and line him up. However, he chuckled and gripped your wrist to stop you. So close yet so far, and you began muttering a sting of incoherent and almost hysterical gibberish, undecipherable other than the occasional please. Given how wet you were he easily sunk in, and it made the stretch of his girth a little more tolerable as he bottomed out with a curse. His teeth bit softly into the flesh of your bare shoulder and you whimpered loudly as he drew back to sink straight back in at a torturously slow pace, always giving you a few seconds to accommodate his thickness. The teasing was driving you near insane, but thankfully he had such a fat cock it still felt incredible. He was always so gentle to begin with, treating you as if you were fragile. However, as he said before he could never say no to you. Once you really whined and whimpered for him to go harder, boy did he give it to you.

He adjusted his hands on your soft hips, gripping them tighter so he could tug you back onto his length as he began slamming into you. Loud slaps filled the room as his pace quickened, pounding eagerly from behind and you wailed, this angle always making him feel so much deeper than usual. “You just get more beautiful everyday, ugh,” Jungkook huffed in your ear, voice strained from the feeling of your velvet walls gripping him eagerly.

Your softness dug into his hip bones as his thrusts grew more powerful, his incredible thighs flexing with the brutal pace he set. Pleasure twisted in your abdomen acutely, the pressure building up easily with your swollen belly. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come already. You feel so good baby, oh!”

At your words he used his impressive strength to pull you against him even more, the angle had his cock rubbing against that special spot and your high hit you harder than it ever had. You reached up and behind you to anchor your hands on his thick, vascular neck, sweaty skin sticking slightly. Your thighs trembled right as you began to peak, and just as the door swung open and you locked gazes with Taehyung. You felt a delicious pressure release in your abdomen as you gushed with a broken shriek, clear fluid squirting all over the tangled bedsheets. He watched you with eyes blown out wide, grip on the doorknob so tight it almost broke and you couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled back into your head. Each jolt caused your ever growing breasts to sway, and the way your hands were above your head only accentuated all your lovely curves which he happily consumed with his gaze.

Jungkook let out a few loud, high pitched moans as he released inside you, the warmth making you shudder as you began coming down from your orgasm. A warm, sweaty forehead pressed against your back as you both panted from the effort, Jungkook’s hands steadying you as you lay down onto your side. The shortness of breath was really beginning to kick in now that you were almost five months pregnant. Wordlessly you reached out for Taehyung, making grabby hands at him as he set his things down and shut the door.

“Good morning princess.” He stalked over to the bed, eyes raking over your glistening body, also flicking back to take in Jungkook who had flopped back against the pillows. “Do you want more? Does daddy get a turn?” He leant down and whispered in your ear as he pressed kisses all along your cheek. You whined and nodded yes, immediately seeking out his lips with your own. God, you just came but you were always ready and wanted to feel both of your lovers, so insatiable these days.

“Good morning my sweet,” he murmured, bed dipping under Taehyung’s weight as he joined you. His fingers ran through Jungkook’s dark curls, and he bent down to capture his other lover’s mouth in a sweet kiss, the younger tugged Taehyung toward him and eagerly began pulling at his clothes.

While the two of them locked lips and stripped you scooted up and flopped onto your back, skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat and legs wide open to accommodate your ever growing stomach. Both men’s gaze immediately fell to your core, looking so pretty with Jungkook’s cum slowly dripping out. Taehyung couldn’t resist, he shifted toward you, dropped to his stomach and pushed your legs further apart. “Look at you, such a messy girl. Daddy should clean you up, hm?” You bit your finger coyly, head clouded with lust as you nodded. Taehyung took another few seconds to stare at your engorged centre, his breath fanning against your wetness causing you to squirm before he quickly dipped down to run his tongue through your folds, groaning at the mixture of sweet and salty taste. He lapped up the juices, tongue seeking out your clit and drawing it into his mouth ripping an almost scream from you from finally getting stimulation on your sensitive, blood fattened nub.

Taehyung started to moan louder, and you lifted your head up until you were almost sitting - you had to otherwise you wouldn’t be able to see past your growing stomach - only to find Taehyung still had his head buried between your legs. However, Jungkook had his own agenda, and his teeth nibbled at one of Taehyung’s buttcheeks before his tongue dipped down between them. One hand snuck down underneath Taehyung’s hips to stroke at his cock which he had previously been grinding against the sheets. 

You’d quickly learned that Jungkook had a bit of an oral fixation, he was obsessed with leaving hickies wherever he could. More than once the two of you would be working early in the morning, then the next thing Jungkook would haul you up onto the unoccupied part of the workbench and eat you out. You had to have a door installed that separated the back workroom from the shop because of his high libido, though as he grew more explorative you’d also have to scold him about food safety. 

The elder sat back on his knees, a hand coming to sink two fingers into your sopping apex. His thumb rubbed circles against your engorged clit, and with each thrust of his wrist he pushed out some of the thick white mixture. Now that he was sat up, Jungkook crawled up and laid on his side, coming to lap at the drops of precum on his erect length. The elder pulled his hand from between your legs and popped them into his mouth, a soft groan accompanying the taste he so adored, the cum of both his lovers combined.

“Kookie? Can you go again, baby?” Taehyung asked, his other hand gently threaded into his hair to ease him off his member. Jungkook nodded eagerly, pumping his own cock in his hand, already hard again. The stamina that boy had frightened you, once you were ready for another baby he’d have you pregnant again in no time. Taehyung motioned for him to lay on his back, and gently guided you over to where Jungkook was propped up with his head resting against the pillows. You turned around and straddled his hips with your back to him and he sat up a bit to steady you.

“Are you okay to keep going? You’re not too tired?” Jungkook whispered in your ear, to which you quickly nodded. No matter how tired you were, you rarely turned down sex with your two lovers. However, on the odd occasion that you did want to rest instead they had no qualms, as they happily indulged in their own intercourse often. The sudden need to twist around and kiss him overcame you and you whined softly, seeking out his lips. They were both so sweet and attentive, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. 

“Kook?” You murmured. He hummed in response, a warm palm soothing on your arm. “I love you, so so much.” 

He couldn’t suppress the grin that broke out across his face no matter how hard he tried, because he was so undeniably happy. “My (Y/N), I love you so much, more than you could imagine.” He leaned forward to peck your lips again before an insistent tap on your thigh brought your attention back to Taehyung.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, already pouting at him for a kiss as well. “I haven’t forgotten about you. I love you too, Taehyung.” At your words he seemed to melt a little, his lips brushing against yours over and over in soft little pecks. 

“I love you too, petal. All of you.” He touched your stomach gently, also looking back at Jungkook behind you. The hand that was just on your tummy came up to cup your cheek, however, you’d grown quite impatient and turned your head to draw two of his fingers into your mouth. 

“That’s it, such a good girl,” he hummed, smiling as you suckled while looking up at him with wide eyes. The sweet tone turned to a growl as you dropped his hand only to bend down, now practically on your hands and knees, and licked a stripe up his fat, throbbing length. The taste of his salty precum had you keening, popping the tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head. You lapped at his frenulum, occasionally running your tongue across the slit to catch the droplets as they continued to bead. 

Jungkook behind you kneaded your soft rump, pulling the cheeks apart and running his tongue from your clit up to your tight hole. Your excessive juices mixed with his cum made for a perfect lubricant as he lapped at your rim, his thumb coming to spread the slick around it and you clenched at the threat of intrusion. He watched in fascination as you clenched again, lightly pressing on it to test the resistance. Given how wet you were the digit sunk in easily, and you immediately clamped down. Taehyung growled as he felt the vibrations of your moan on his cock, his hand threading into your hair softly. Jungkook worked his thumb in and out of your ass, giving your muscles time to slowly relax. A thrum of excitement rushed through you as he pulled the digit out, only to slick up two more fingers and ease them in carefully. You always got a bit more worked up when you knew you were going to have both men at once, it felt incredible being so full of them.

“God noona, you’re taking my fingers so well. You love getting your tight little asshole played with, don’t you? Such a good girl.” Jungkook hissed, scissoring the digits until he could work in a third finger. You pulled your lips from Taehyung’s cock with a pop sound, the pleasure was so overwhelming, especially when Jungkook’s thumb came to rub circles on your clit.

“Are you close again, princess?” Taehyung asked, stroking your hair. You nodded furiously, pushing back to try and get the younger’s fingers probing deeper.

“U-Ugh! Daddy, Kookie! I’m com-oh!” you didn’t even finish your sentence before your orgasm washed over you, toes curling and skin tingling with the euphoric feeling. Jungkook’s fingers continued to rub against your sensitive walls, the completely unique feeling causing you to clench even harder. When your cries subsided you slumped back a little and Jungkook withdrew his hand. “Please,” you whimpered, pouting and looking between both your lovers.

“Please what, my love? Use your words.” Taehyung ordered.

“Want more, want you both.”

“Oh? Is one cock filling you up not enough for you? Greedy girl,” he tutted. “Can you sit back for me? Want Jungkookie to fuck your ass while I have your pussy?”

Your empty orifices clench at his words, wanting so desperately to be filled and to feel the push and pull of both their lengths fucking you. Eagerly you nodded, reaching down to touch your clit again but Taehyung’s hand grabbed your wrist.

“Did I say you could do that, hm?” He growled, tugging your hand away. Your eyes widened at his commanding tone, shaking your head slowly. “What did I just tell you to do?”

“Sit on Jungkookie’s cock, daddy.”

“Exactly, go on then,” Taehyung growled, the softness of his hands as he helped you move back contradicting his tone. You hovered over Jungkook's length, the tip pressing against the seam of your ass. A faint gasp escaped you as he ran the head of his cock through your folds to soak it in the wetness dripping from you, before moving back to line himself up. Ever so gently he pressed the tip against your asshole, applying a soft pressure, coaxing the muscles of your rim to loosen. 

Gradually your ass relaxed to grant him entrance, the head of his cock slipped in aided by your excessive slick. Once he pushed past that initial resistance the rest of his silken length sunk in easily, creating a delicious stretch and you moaned. Taehyung drank in the whole image, watching the younger's cock bottom out as his hips met the flesh of your behind and you sat fully impaled on his length.

Your pussy fluttered and clenched rhythmically, more droplets of your nectar running down to coat Jungkook’s heavy balls. The feeling had him crying out with a choked whimper, you were so tight and warm and he was so sensitive from only just coming.

Gently you rested back against his chest, Jungkook’s torso propped up safely by your pillows and your legs flopped open wider, beckoning Taehyung forward. The elder man sauntered over to you both, his precum dribbled down to join the mess between your thighs as he drew closer, rubbing the tip of his cock through your soaked folds.

You squirmed, unconsciously opening your legs wider for Taehyung to swear softly at the view he was blessed with.

“Daddy, please. Want you too,” you whined, pleading with your eyes as well. You continued shifting and grinding, making Jungkook’s grip on your hips brutally tight. He might leave a few bruises on your soft flesh but he couldn't help it, not when you felt so good. Besides, he would kiss it better later.

“Hyung-” He grunted, not able to get anything else out as he felt Taehyung’s fat cock push into your empty cunt, the thickness still stretching you despite how wet you were. In one smooth, slow stroke he bottomed out and a choked cry was torn from your lips at how full you were, already teetering on the edge and so close to tipping over. In a desperate lust filled haze your hand shot down to rub at your clit furiously, jolts of pleasure still shooting through your abdomen even though both men weren’t moving.

Instead of stopping you this time, Taehyung watched on with a smirk as you rocked yourself back and forth slightly, so desperate for release. He withdrew his cock slightly from your walls and you cried out in displeasure, pussy trying so hard to suck him back in. However, not a second later he plunged back in to the hilt slowly, right as Jungkook pulled out only to fuck back into you. The room filled with your loud cries, nothing got you to moan quite as loud as when you were stuffed full with two cocks, and not to mention the grunts and groans from both men as they picked up a rhythm, one thrusting in right as the other pulled out. 

Taehyung’s eyes glazed over as he watched his length bury into your sopping, swollen folds over and over with each thrust. The sight made him harden further, heavy balls smacking against Jungkook’s length occasionally where it sunk into your slippery ass. It didn’t take long for your next climax to come, the only warning you gave them was a broken whimper of, “hgn, c-oming!” before your legs were trembling, a little sprinkle of clear fluid gushing forth as your eyes rolled back.

“Fuck-,” Taehyung grunted, quickly circling your clit to help you ride out your orgasm as he looked at the wet sheen covering his abdomen. “This is new. Does having your tummy nice and swollen make you squirt, sweetheart?”

All you could manage was to nod furiously, hips still being jolted from each push and pull. Suddenly the urge to shift positions came forth and you pushed on Taehyung’s chest gently, still trying to find the words after your powerful orgasm that left you feeling like jelly.

He slowed his pace, an expression of alarm appeared across his features and he gripped your hand. “What is it my love? Did we do something wrong? Are you hurt?”

“N-No, I just. Can I go on top please?” You breathed out, fatigue beginning to take its toll. He visibly relaxed, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple. 

“Of course.” He eased out gently causing you to wince at the sudden empty feeling when Jungkook did the same a moment later. Your hand gripped Tae’s wrist, tugging him softly so that he turned and flopped on his back on the bed and you swung a leg over to straddle his hips, two sets of hands touching you gently, always prepared to steady you. Taehyung’s fingertips trailed up from your hips, coming to cradle the small swell of your abdomen. The tender moment had you pausing, before you leaned down to kiss the grin off his lips. 

You reached down to grip his length, lining him up before you sunk down on him. A content sigh left you at being reacquainted with the feeling you’d come to love and crave. The younger eagerly jumped up to close in behind you once again, his large hands groped the flesh of your ass, parting your cheeks to look at your twitching asshole. He was quick to ease himself back in as well, the elder giving him a moment to adjust before they picked up the pace, and from the way they were both moaning you could tell they were getting closer. You were glad as you were definitely getting tired during the rigorous fucking sessions these two always put you through. 

Jungkook’s strength astounded you, he was practically picking you up and pulling you back back onto his length, doing most of the work while Taehyung fucked up into you with practiced ease. It was more frantic now, all three of you driving towards that blissful finish as you often did to start off the morning, although you’d be having an extra long sleep in for sure after this. 

Your swollen breasts were now perfectly in Taehyung's face, bouncing with each thrust and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to draw one of your puffy nipples into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth. Your moans grew louder at the sensation, not to mention the way his chest began glistening as droplets landed there from the other peak. Not in a million years would you grow tired of seeing one of them latch onto your chest and suckle on the sensitive nubs, particularly now that you were pregnant and lactating. It just made them far more keen, the hormonal men brimming with spunk always ready to fuck their cum into you in whatever hole they could, showering you in praise after for being so good and fertile for them. Jungkook particularly would stare at your belly, definitely daydreaming about you pregnant with his child next. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind too much that you didn’t have his baby growing inside you, it only antagonised him and gave him cause to try and outdo his hyung. It was a blessing you had such high libido or this relationship certainly wouldn’t have worked out so well, but the three of you had somehow achieved harmony.

“I-ugh, hyung! I’m gonna, uhhhh, gonna come!” Kookie cried.

“You can come Jungkookie,” Taehyung growled, his own words strained as his high approached. Jungkook was the one to peak first, pushing his thick cock into the hilt, stilling slightly as the warmth of his cum flooded your ass and he let out a string of high pitched moans. You were next, thanks to Taehyung furiously slamming into your swollen, sensitive cunt. As soon as you gripped him tightly in the throes of your ecstasy, he finally came as well, filling up your pussy with his warm, thick seed.

You collapsed forward onto his chest, panting hard and he pressed a kiss into your hair. “You’re always such a good girl for us, isn’t she Kookie?”

The three of you were dazed in your sweaty, post orgasm bliss, soaking up the sweet moment. The younger man hummed in agreement and parted your cheeks, staring at the copious amount of cum oozing from your spent orifices. You were sore but satiated, happily soaking up the tender moment until Jungkook exclaimed,

“Now that is the best creampie I’ve ever made!”

➻ A/N: This fic took me six months to write...so I would really appreciate a little bit of feedback! 

Part Two: & Everything Nice coming soon! 

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 6

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention, death mention

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Thank you for being so patient 🥺 School+job interviews have been kinda crazy for the last few weeks. But now I’m on spring break AND got an internship, so hopefully the coming chapters will be up soon. Enjoy!

“Are you sure you don’t mind picking up Missy? I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

Erin laughed softly, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m turning into the school parking lot already, babe. I don’t mind, really. It’s nice to spend time with Missy.”

Her boyfriend let out a sign of relief on the other end of the call. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it a couple times,” she replied, pulling up to the pickup line. When she spotted Missy, she waved her over. Her heart soared as the little girl’s face lit up like the sun. “I should let you get back to work. I’ll bring her back to your place, so don’t worry about stopping by my apartment, ok?”

“Okay, honey.” A pause. “Thank you for taking care of my baby. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably run around frantically,” she teased, unlocking the car doors so Missy could climb into the back seat. “Now go save the world, Marcus. I’ll see you at home in a few hours.”

After that, she hung up and turned around in her seat to greet Missy, who was already buckled up. “Ready to go home?”

The little girl nodded. “Will you stay for dinner tonight? We haven’t had a night with all three of us in a while.”

Erin laughed softly, pulling out of the pickup line. “Missy, sweetie, I stayed over this past weekend! But yes, I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

“Can you stay forever, then?”

Well, that was unexpected. Yes, she’d become an integral part of the Morenos’ lives, but she never thought Missy would want her around all the time. Surely she missed her mom, or missed having free reign around the house with just Marcus as her parent figure. She couldn’t be that important, could she?

Part of her couldn’t help but melt at Missy’s request. For a long time, she’d wanted to find someplace that she could call home–a place where she could live, appreciate, and be appreciated in return. It would’ve been a lie to say that she never thought of a life with the Morenos, but she knew that it was more complicated than her late-night fantasy made it out to be. She couldn’t just barge into their lives.

The drive to Marcus’s house was muscle memory at that point, the turns of her wheel well-practiced. After their first date, they’d gone on two more. And while neither of them had gone much further than needy kisses, she couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with him. He was worth it. He was worth everything.

Missy bounced on the balls of her feet as Erin fished out the house key from her purse, bounding into the house the moment the door was unlocked. “If I finish my homework early, can we bake something?”

“Maybe,” she mused, setting her shoes on the shoe rack by Missy’s. After locking the front door, she walked into the main family and dining area. “What did you have in mind?”

“Can we make a tres leches cake?” Missy asked, looking up at her with innocent eyes. “I asked dad, but he said no.”

Erin chuckled and sat down in the chair next to her. “That’s probably for a good reason, sweetie. We just finished a cake roll the other day, so maybe we can bake it this weekend. Instead, we can have ice cream today.”

The girl sighed and shrugged. “Okay, it was worth a shot.” She frowned as she read over her english homework. “Parts...of speech? I don’t remember learning any of this in class. Can you help me? Pleeeease, Erin?”

Humming in confirmation, she set down the file she was reading and turned so she could read the homework sheet better. “Ah, I remember learning this in school. It’s not too bad, it’s just that the names are a little weird. Let’s see…”

They worked on the homework together, Erin explaining the concepts and asking Missy to give her examples of everything from verbs to nouns. She tried not to think about what it would be like to spend more afternoons and evenings helping her little girl with homework. It was a long way off, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

She was explaining the difference between nouns and proper nouns when Missy mentioned, “You know, dad used to have a different name.”

Erin raised a dark brow, surprised at how nonchalantly the girl had made the comment. “Really, now?” It probably shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise–didn’t most superheroes have codenames, or secret identities?

Missy nodded. “Well, I think so. I remember when I was little, sometimes he would write Marcus Pike on my permission slips instead of Moreno. Then he’d have to cross it out and fix it. Silly, right?”

Erin froze, her heart dropping into her stomach. Her Marcus...was Marcus? “Oh...that is silly. I wonder why he changed it.”

It didn’t make sense. Marcus Pike disappeared nearly a decade ago, and as far as she knew, he wasn’t affiliated with the Heroics. And he certainly couldn’t have a daughter that was in second grade.

Or could he?

But if he was the Marcus Moreno, then why did he need to have a fake identity? More importantly, why didn’t he tell her that he was Marcus Pike? Even if it was a codename, it didn’t matter once they met. Unless...he didn’t want her to know.

Maybe he didn’t want to be found;  because if she was anything to him, why didn’t he look for her? Why didn’t he try to contact her?

The air turned cold. Breathing slowly through her nose, she sat back and opened her laptop. She scrolled through the reports of Marcus Pike’s disappearance. There was nothing on him except some anecdotes and some text messages between coworkers. There was no address, no email, no mention of his name online. He’d very much disappeared. No one, not even her best agents, could find any trace of him after that winter day eight years ago.

Sighing, she switched gears and pulled up as much information as she could find about Marcus Moreno. She didn’t like the feeling of prying into his life, but she had to know. It didn’t make sense: if Marcus Pike existed for years within the FBI, what was Marcus Moreno up to? Did he disappear too?

Her hands shook as she clicked on the website of the Heroics and went to Marcus’s page. Unlike most of the other heroes, he didn’t have a codename. Why was that?

She paused at his photo, gaze softening slightly. As much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, he did look a lot like Marcus Pike. He had the same furrow between his brows, the same nose. They were the same height as well, which she’d noticed as her body fit perfectly against him.

They–he?–both knew her coffee order like the back of their–his?–hand, and knew exactly how to comfort her when the stress from work became too much. He called her the same pet names, her favorite being….honeydew.

Shit.

Only one person ever called her “honeydew.”

She was terrified as she scrolled down.

The first appearance of Marcus Moreno as a member of the Heroics was eight years ago.

How could she have been so blind? He was right in front of her the entire time, and she never noticed. She built her entire reputation on remembering details and noticing everything, and she couldn’t pick up on the clues. Who else would call her “honeydew,” hug her like it had been years, and want to take the relationship slow?

It was too much.

Not wanting Missy to worry, Erin got up from the table and locked herself in the bathroom before letting the tears fall.

Why did he have to go?

Why didn’t he tell her?

Why didn’t he come back?

---

Erin only let a few tears fall before gathering herself again. She couldn’t let Missy know the truth, not yet. She had to be strong for her, just as she had to be strong for her team when every lead turned into a dead end. So much time had passed since she last had any hope of seeing Marcus again; part of her didn’t want to believe it. But at the same time, she couldn’t deny it anymore: Marcus Moreno was Marcus Pike. He was alive and well, and happy.

The least she could do was be happy for him.

But it didn’t soften the blow on her pride.

Dinner was a quieter affair than usual. She couldn’t bring herself to talk more than a couple sentences at a time, for fear of something slipping out. Maybe it was better that way. Marcus obviously didn’t want to deal with the effects of disappearing, so why should she make an effort to find closure?

That was another thing, she realized. If he really was Marcus Pike, then would she ever get closure? Would she ever get to truly move on from the one person she could never have?

Once Missy went upstairs to get ready for bed, the silence grew deafening. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how.

Marcus must’ve sensed something was off, because his brows furrowed just slightly. He came up and leaned against the counter, watching as she transferred the leftovers into tupperware containers. “What’s wrong?”

Erin sighed. Part of her didn’t want to confront him and destroy the little bubble of happiness surrounding them, but she needed answers. If he reacted badly….maybe he wouldn’t be the one. Resigned, she asked, “Why did you lie to me, brown eyes?”

A blanket of silence settled in the kitchen.

His eyes widened. “W-what do you mean?”

Fighting back tears, she asked, “Why did you let me think you were dead, Pike? I-” She covered her face with her hands, eyes clenched shut. “I searched for you, but you were gone!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes glistening. “I should’ve told you.”

As she started trembling, he realized it was the first time he’d ever seen her cry. His honeydew was crying because of him.

“I just wanted my best friend back,” she said. Facing him, she asked, “Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I supposed to live the rest of my life feeling guilty that I was moving on from the love of my life?”

Marcus felt like he’d been punched. She…wanted him since the beginning? “Your...what? Honeydew, I-”

She stepped back as he reached for her. His heart broke as she shook her head and said firmly, “No. You don’t get to call me that. I don’t….I don’t even know who you are.”

“Okay,” he said softly, taking off his glasses. Tears dripped down his face as he faced her. “Let me introduce myself. Completely. My name is Marcus Moreno. We met when I was hiding under an alias: Marcus Pike.”

He told her about his family, and his involvement with the Heroics early on in his life. His mother, Anita Moreno, was one of the original heroes in the organization. As the Heroics grew more prominent and began working with the government, he needed to change his name–while his mother wanted to help the world, he just wanted a normal life. He wanted to go to school, make friends, and have a family someday.  With the status that came with being a Moreno, he couldn’t do any of that without putting his loved ones in danger. So, with the help of the Heroics, he changed his identity to Marcus Pike.

Most of his adult life, including university, was spent as Marcus Pike. His failed marriage had Marcus Pike written on the certificate. Even when he worked for the FBI, he was documented as Marcus Pike; no one knew who he was, not when new people were being cycled in and out of the workplace.

After moving to DC and having his engagement with Teresa Lisbon broken off, he gave up. He contacted his mother, got involved with the Heroics again, and had his identity erased so he could take over as the leader of the Heroics.

“But that doesn’t explain why you couldn’t tell me,” she said, frowning. “Is the difference between Marcus Pike and Marcus Moreno so big that it would affect our relationship?”

Marcus sighed. “Do you really want to know?” When she nodded, he confessed, “I didn’t tell you because...I didn’t want to lose you.”

Her gaze softened. “What?”

“I was afraid that if you saw me as Marcus Pike, you’d  only ever see me as a friend,” he explained. “And he is me…. But the way you looked at Marcus Moreno was all I ever wanted. It was everything I wished I could have back and more. The most painful part of leaving Pike behind was losing you. It was losing the chance to tell you how I felt, and to see where we could’ve gone together.” He stepped closer, and this time she didn’t flinch away when he touched her. “It was selfish, I know. I’m sorry. But I promise you, Erin, my honeydew, my feelings for you are real. They always were. No amount of name changes and secret identities can change that.”

Unable to stop herself, Erin threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. “I missed you so much.”

He held her close and stroked her hair, basking in her warmth. “I missed you too.”

“You’re an idiot, though,” she said, clinging to him as if he would disappear if she let go. “I would’ve said yes whether or not you were Pike.”

“But?”

“But, that doesn’t mean I’m not mad,” she said. A wave of humiliation crashed over her. “If you were anyone else, I’d be gone.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad, and I don’t blame you if you want some space.”

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she said softly, wincing as her head started throbbing. “I...I want space, but I’m afraid I'll lose you again. I’m mad, but I’m also….glad that my best friend is alive and well.”

“You can stay for the night, if you want,” Marcus offered, searching her gold-flecked eyes. He braced himself for the rejection, for her to scoff and storm out of his house. But it never happened.

Once everything was put away in the kitchen, they made their way up to his bedroom and got ready for bed. Sharing the bathroom as they brushed their teeth and washed their faces felt odd. Why did it feel like they’d been robbed of years of their life?

He didn’t regret marrying his late wife–no, never–but the more he and Erin spent time together, the more aware he was of just how much things could’ve been different. Everything he had was because he couldn’t tell a woman he loved her eight years ago.

Nestled against him, Erin sighed. “You don’t have to go with me on the undercover op. This job...it’s important and I can’t afford to be distracted.”

He shook his head. “No, I promised you I’d go. Everything will be alright, honey.” The familiar weight of her body against his soothed his nerves, even after everything. “I’m sorry we lost so much time. I’ll make it up to you.”

Erin didn’t respond.

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[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

And Do I Dream Again?

We’re throwing it WAY back to the early 2000′s with this one, guys. One of my first hyperfixations crossed over with my latest; poetic, really. I also dug into my Weird Memories archive and remembered that we used to make banners for our fics back in the fanfic.net days (I’m old as hell and I’ve been doing this for a long time). So...without further ado, the first story in my A Very Bouncey Halloween series:

Jaskier perched on the velvet-padded stool in front of his dressing room mirror and ran a brush through his soft brown hair. He hoped to remove the curls it had been pulled into for the performance and return it to its normal fluffy mess; unfortunately that wasn’t entirely possible, the pomade his costumer had applied was too thick. 

Once his chestnut locks were as silky smooth as they were going to get, Jaskier placed the silver brush back on the tabletop and sighed. The Phantom had left him another plain red rose with a plain black ribbon around the stem. No note. No name. Just Madame Yennefer’s quiet, “He was pleased with you.” 

A whisper in passing.

Valdo interrupted the young starlet’s thoughts when he poked his head in the door and smiled brightly. Jaskier pulled his delicate white dressing gown closer around his shoulders and chest, hiding whatever skin he could despite its laciness. An ingénue’s aesthetic did not always lend itself well to preserving one’s modesty, ironically enough.

“You did wonderfully tonight, my sweet,” the Viscount purred from his place in the doorway.

“Thank you.”

“Could I have the honor of escorting you to a late dinner?”

Jaskier was about to turn him down outright when he struck upon a very particular thought. If his Angel of Music was as possessive as Jaskier hoped, surely he’d step forward and show his face to deter the Viscount. If the Phantom thought his claim on the pretty opera prodigy was being threatened then perhaps he’d make an appearance. The scheming young starlet smiled softly and let his excited Angel-related blush do the work for him in regards to Valdo Marx, “That would be lovely, Viscount Valdo.”

The mustachioed cavalier beamed. “I’ll have my footmen bring the carriage around.”

And then he disappeared back out the door.

Jaskier turned towards his mirror, still clutching the robe around his shoulders tightly to keep it closed. He wished desperately that he hadn’t changed out of his costume before the Viscount arrived at his door. Valdo had all the appearance of a gentleman, and he’d been kind enough when they were both children, but something about the way he’d looked at Jaskier in such a state of undress, like he was hungry… 

The prodigy shivered and ran his hands up and down his upper arms for both comfort and warmth. The corset around his middle felt unusually tight as he stood to get dressed in his street-clothes. If he was to meet with the creepy young Viscount for dinner then he’d need to be dressed.

Before he could move an inch, however, a cold wind swept through the dressing room and doused the candles. Jaskier gasped and let his hands fall to his sides. Had his plan really worked so well? Had his Angel decided to step out of the darkness and finally show him the face behind the roses?

The deep, familiar rumble of his tutor’s baritone seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, filling the pitch dark room with sound: “Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory! Insolent fool, your brave young suitor; sharing in my triumph!”

The possessive note in his Angel’s voice sent a shiver down Jaskier’s spine and he replied quickly, already halfway under the Phantom’s dizzying spell: “Angel, I hear you! Speak, I listen; stay by my side and guide me. My soul was weak and I wished…” - the boy shook his head to clear the thought away - “Forgive me. Enter at last, Master.”

“Flattering child,” the Angel chuckled darkly. “You shall know me soon and see why I hide my face in shadow. You shall understand at last why I have not let you lay such innocent eyes upon me in all these years.”

“Yes,” Jaskier breathed, stepping forward into the embrace of darkness. From behind the two-way mirror on the wall, Geralt gasped softly. He felt his heartbeat double in speed. The longing on his flower’s face was exquisite. It lit a flame in the composer that could not be dampened by the mists of any Paris catacomb. The boy cast his eyes around the dark room, searching for his tutor, “I want to see your face, my Angel. Don’t tease me any longer with your pretty words. I’m tired of spending my nights alone, Phantom.”

Geralt was going to fall to his knees and cry if the boy said another word, so he interrupted: “Look at your face in the mirror.”

Jaskier turned to the full-length mirror on the wall and saw a light shimmering faintly from behind the glass. He reached out involuntarily and his eyes went wide with confusion. There was definitely a figure there...a tall, broad-shouldered man standing just beyond the wavy glass wall. He was holding out his hand in Jaskier’s direction. The singer’s ghostly, lace-clad reflection stared back at him with hazy vision, enthralled entirely by his Angel’s presence.

“Angel of Music, hide no longer!” Jaskier begged, stepping forward again. “Let me see you, please!” 

“Come to your Angel of Music,” the figure in the glass beckoned, waving him forward with that broad, outstretched hand. Further into the room. Into the dark.

Jaskier placed one delicately slippered foot in front of the other, crossing the carpet in a slow but determined line. He tried to keep his legs from tangling with his dressing gown as he moved, slipping it open a bit to reveal his mostly-bare legs. Geralt bit his lip at the sight of all that skin, too much and too little at the same time. Gods, how he wanted to touch the younger man. Hold him. Please him endlessly. 

Jaskier’s eyes never wavered from the figure in the mirror. His Angel had finally come for him and he wasn’t about to waste the chance to see his tutor up close. To feel his Angel’s hands against him. He reached out towards the glass and the white silk of his robe slipped easily from his shoulder, baring a swathe of pale skin. 

Geralt hadn’t been aware, until that very moment, that someone could feel both predatory and terrified at the same moment. He wanted to take Jaskier away and hide him beneath the Opera house forever where nobody could ever touch him again; but oh, how sinful would it be to keep his talented student sequestered from the sun. He didn’t want to be rejected. He didn’t want the boy to see his face, his hideously scarred face and strange white hair, and turn from him in terror. He wouldn’t be able to live through that. 

And then…

“Jaskier!” 

Fuck. That stupid little Viscount was going to ruin everything Geralt had worked for! Had waited for! Had prayed and begged and yearned for!

But the starlet didn’t turn around. 

The posh young fool pounded against the strong mahogany of Jaskier’s dressing room door, screaming his head off to get the opera star’s attention but Jaskier’s bright blue eyes stayed trained on the composer’s outstretched hand. His gaze was glassy and out-of-focus. 

Hypnotised by chance, Geralt mused. I probably should have expected that, given the circumstances and the usual nature of our meetings.

It had been months since the Phantom of the opera last had to hypnotize his prized pupil; and it was only to keep him from getting too close to his lair.

Now his darling little flower, the boy whose voice he’d trained from good to gorgeous, was standing willingly before him. His face was void of anything but devotion. His eyes were misty and his lips were parted oh-so-sweetly as he stood before his Angel, utterly enthralled. The decadent white lace of his dressing gown had fallen from one of his shoulders, baring not only his entire left collarbone but the long, statuesque expanse of his neck as well. Geralt took his flower’s pale, rose-petal soft hand in his larger, more calloused one and whispered, “Will you come with your Angel of Music?”

Jaskier nodded and breathed out a soft, pleading: “Yes. Take me, Angel.”

Geralt pulled the younger man’s robe back over his shoulder to return him to a state of oddly indecent modesty before grabbing up the torch and turning his back on the dressing room entirely. Jaskier followed behind as they walked, the gentle whispering swish of his robe’s lacy train a constant reminder of his presence. You are taking Persephone down to the Underworld, a little voice at the corner of Geralt’s mind whispered. You are pulling your flower away from the light of the sun. 

He shook away his guilt and squeezed the starlet’s hand. Jaskier squeezed back instantly, firmly, and any doubt left in the composer’s mind flew clean away. He wants me back, the older man realized. He came with me into the Underworld. 

They rounded the final curving corner of the low, quickly-dampening stone hall and came upon Roach. The trusty mare was waiting as patiently as ever where Geralt had left her bridle fastened to the wall and she perked up her ears when her master approached. The opera ghost lifted his muse up into Roach’s saddle and nervously met Jaskier’s blue eyes with his malformed gold ones, “Sing once again with me our strange duet.”

“Your power over me grows stronger yet,” Jaskier replied easily, finishing the rhyme of a song Geralt had once composed for him. His hand reached down to cup the side of the Phantom’s face that wasn’t hidden by the white plaster mask. Geralt flinched away but Jaskier paid the movement no mind, continuing to caress him wherever he could reach. “Oh, my sweet Angel.”

The composer turned away, leading Roach down the echoing hallway as quickly as possible. He tried not to glance back at his flower too often, afraid of having his intentions misunderstood by the drowsy-looking boy but oh - the way Jaskier looked sitting astride the horse with his stockings still fastened above his knees and his underthings only barely reaching to meet them. The way his dressing gown, all thin white silk and fine lace details, cascaded down around his hips and spilled over Roach… “Fuck.”

“My Angel?” he inquired. He sounded half asleep and Geralt bit his lip in shame. It wasn’t right to look at someone like that without their permission, first. He’d apologize later. 

“Nothing, my little flower. Would you sing for me?”

They’d reached the shore of the underground creek that cut through Paris. It wasn’t the sewer but it wasn’t exactly nice either. Geralt swung Jaskier down from Roach and into the boat, settling him back against a pile of velvet pillows gathered (stolen) just for this occasion. He wanted his love to be comfortable. He wanted the boy to return once his tutor gave him back to the outside world.

Because Jaskier could not be kept away from the sun. From the stage. From the adoration of the Paris elite.

No, Jaskier was destined to succeed. 

Jaskier sang through the final notes of the aria he’d performed earlier at the Gala, daring to push his voice further and pitch the notes higher than was written. It sounded heavenly as it rang and bounced off the curved brick walls of the tunnel system. Geralt knew his home would never sound this lovely again and he marveled in it for a moment. 

“Sing for me!”

Jaskier went ever higher, his face turning pink with the effort of sustaining the song. He gasped for breath between notes. 

“Sing, my flower! Sing for me!” Geralt demanded, rowing the tiny boat closer to his odd little home. Jaskier was so caught up in pleasing his Angel, his tutor, his Master, that he didn’t pay attention to how constricting his corset was or how little air he’d actually been taking in. 

The desperate opera singer finished out the final two notes of his aria as strongly and loudly as the rest before he slumped, unconscious, to the floor of the boat. 

The phantom dropped to his knees, abandoning the oar completely. He gathered the younger man into his arms and laughed in shock. His fingers paused at Jaskier’s neck to feel his pulse. He was alive. He would be fine. He’d been so eager to impress that he had run himself out of air. 

“The little fool,” Geralt chuckled, settling him against the pillows again to resume rowing. “I’m fucked.”

---

Jaskier’s eyes blinked open slowly, surveying the unfamiliar bed he’d found himself in. “Angel?” he called nervously. There was no reply, but in the distance he could hear an organ playing quietly. Jaskier stood and stepped gracefully from the bed, summoning up all his greatest charms to impress his teacher. 

When he crossed the floor and ducked into the antechamber he gasped; the Phantom wasn’t hideous at all. He wasn’t a hunchback like Triss had suggested. He wasn’t deformed like Firman claimed. His Angel’s hair was long and white, swept halfway up and away from his face while the other half hung to sweep against his shoulders. Jaskier knew already that his eyes were deep honey-gold and slit like a cat’s; they had haunted his dreams before. 

He had seen them in Box Five before. Watching him sing. 

“Angel!”

“Jaskier!”

The music stopped as his darling Phantom rushed to reach his side, arms outstretched to steady him if necessary. Jaskier thrilled at the attentiveness of his soon-to-be-lover (he hoped) and let himself fall bodily against the Phantom’s chest. His head fit perfectly against the older man’s broad shoulder and he sighed contentedly as he settled into place. “I thought you’d never show me your face.”

“I still haven’t.”

“Let me see,” the brunette pleaded, reaching for the edge of the mask where it sat on Geralt’s face. The composer turned away and grasped Jaskier firmly by the wrist. His grip sat just on the edge of painful and Jaskier bore it bravely. If he had to prove himself than by gods he most certainly would. “I want to see you, Phantom. I want to know your name and your face, truly.”

“You’ll… I don’t want you to leave yet,” Geralt whispered brokenly. Jaskier’s heart ached for this man, the man who had taught him to sing so beautifully. Surely the only thing beneath the mask could be more beauty?

“I’m not scared of you,” he reassured. “I love you, my Angel. Can’t you tell? I’ve been waiting for you for years, now.”

“You were merely a boy, then.”

“You aren’t much older than I am,” Jaskier huffed. “What, six years? Maybe seven?”

“Closer to ten.”

“And if I hadn’t been orphaned so terribly young then I would have been married at fourteen,” Jaskier reminded his tutor, whose face had turned pink beneath his covering. “I was a noble’s son, my dear. Please let me see you.”

Geralt sighed and removed the mask, baring the scar that marred one half of his otherwise very attractive face. Jaskier’s fingertip traced feather-light across the surface of his wrinkled skin. He didn’t flinch this time.

“Beautiful,” the boy muttered. “You’re so beautiful, my love.”

“My love,” Geralt sobbed, burying his face in the younger man’s neck. “My name is Geralt.”

“Geralt,” the prodigy whispered softly, like a prayer. “My sweet, perfect Geralt. You have shone so brightly in the darkness of my life, darling Geralt. You must know that I love you deeply and dearly.”

“As I love you,” the Phantom admitted. This had been more than he’d ever hoped for. Tolerance he was prepared for. Tolerance he understood. Reciprocity? Acceptance? He was terrified and thrilled and giddy.

“You are brighter than all the stars in the sky,” Jaskier beamed, pressing his lips to the opera ghost’s. Geralt kissed back, pressing their bodies together from hips to shoulders. Feeling him.

“You are my little flower,” Geralt stated, pressing another soft kiss to the boy’s forehead. 

“Come,” the starlet insisted, pulling away and tugging at his hand. “If I am to be your virgin sacrifice in the pits of this Parisian Hell then I intend to enjoy it thoroughly.”

The Phantom laughed and followed his darling into the bedchamber. 

[bungou-stray-dingus]

Stolen

Pairing : Fukuzawa x Reader

A/N : Taking a trip down simplicity lane with this one! No mentions of pregnancy, jut some good old fashioned angst.

T/W : Kidnapping ; Violence ; Torture ; General Angst

Word Count : 3.4K

Angstember Day 7

Being with Fukuzawa had it's perks, but there was also the sad reality that you could never tell anyone that he and you were together. It was for your safety, that's what he always said, but also for the safety of the Agency. None of the members had a clue, well, except for Ranpo who was sworn to secrecy, but other than him, everyone else was clueless. You didn't have an ability, you were just a secretary at the office. The last thing you thought would happen when you first started working there was that you would end up with the President of the company, but he was an amazing man. Even though you couldn't show affection to each other often, you always felt so safe, so protected when you were around him. You knew that he would never let anything happen to you, not when he was there.

Things were pretty silent in the office, it was a slow day and everyone was wandering around the office, trying to find anything to do to keep their mind busy until something came up. You sat at your desk, tapping your pen against the surface rapidly as you stared out the window. You had a small office space to yourself, it wasn't much larger than a large closet, but it fit your desk, and the small window had a nice view of the street below, and it allowed an adequate amount of sunlight to stream in during the day.

There was a small knock at the door and then he walked in, shutting the door quietly behind him. "I can hear you tapping your pen from my office. You're bored, darling." Fukuzawa mused as he stared down at you, his hands folded in front of him. He was always especially quiet when he spoke to you, his terms of endearment was always whispered so low that you almost couldn't hear them at all.

"I think I'll be fine, I only have..." You looked at the clock on the wall, it was only ten o'clock in the morning, you chuckled and shook your head as you turned your gaze back towards him. "Seven more hours. I'm sure something will come up soon."

"But you'll still be stuck in your office." He cocked his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips. He always looked so handsome when he looked at you that way, and you found it hard sometimes to keep yourself from kissing him.

"Wrong-o! I'll have paper work to do. I love paper work." Your voice was cheerful as you joked with him. It wasn't often that the two of you really communicated while in the office other than to talk about paper work, you were enjoying the secret moment that you shared with him. He reached out to place his hand over yours, stopping the tapping of the pen that you had completely forgotten about.

"How about you go to the store, it's your turn to pick dinner for tonight. You can take Naomi and Junichiro with you as well." He offered, his thumb brushing over your knuckles before pulling his hand away quickly. It's not that he didn't want to touch you, he just worried that someone would walk in, or someone from outside would see inside.

You jumped at the offer, going shopping with those two was always enjoyable. They held decent conversations, and they were good people to have around in general. Everyone else in the office was always either too serious, or not serious at all. Naomi and Junichiro were able to find the fine line between the two, so their company was always very much appreciated.

Naomi clung to Junichiro's arm as the three of you walked down the street. She was always so happy, it seemed contagious, or maybe it was the fact that you were able to enjoy the  sun outside the office, feel the cool breeze of late spring against your skin, or it could be the mixture of both. Enjoying the weather with two great people, the only thing that would make it better was if Fukuzawa was able to join the three of you.

She stopped outside a small store with cute nicknacks lining the shelves inside and the store front window. "Oh! Junichiro lets go in there!" She cheered, pulling him to a stop in front of the door. He gave you an apologetic glance as she pulled him into the store, but you didn't mind much. She would probably have him stuck in there for hours, you would be able to get to the grocery store and back before she actually picked anything.

The two quickly disappeared through the door as you continued down the street. The streets were pretty much empty, everyone was either at work or school, it was peaceful, relaxing even. You decided to take your time, letting the bright sun bathe your skin in its golden glow. Everything seemed perfect, then you heard the scream coming from the alley. It was shrill, unexpected, you jumped at the sound of it. Your head quickly whipped in the direction, contemplating whether to run down there and see what was going on, or call one of the other members of the Agency to check it out.

You might just be a secretary, but you were still a member of the Agency and you had to do the right thing. You took off down the alley, expecting to find the woman who had made the sound, but it was a dead end. There was no one there, there was nothing there at all, but you couldn't deny the growing feeling of dread that was building in the pit of your stomach. You were about to turn to leave the alleyway, wanting desperately to get back to the main sidewalk where the sun shone down on you, that's when the figure appeared.

"Well, well, well. That was easy. Can't believe they allow someone as dense as you into the Agency." The voice was altered, their entire body was shrouded in black cloth, their face was masked. They reached their hand out to brush it along your face but you quickly smacked it away. "Hmm, feisty. It would be better if you didn't struggle though, I just need to get a message across."

"What are you talking about?" You attempted to back up, but they grabbed your wrists, holding them in a vice type grip. "H-Hey! Let me go!" Trying to pull your hands away proved to be useless, the persons grip only got tighter.

"I told you not to struggle." They laughed at your feeble attempts, but you didn't give up. Not until they brought their hand up and before you knew what was happening, it landed on your face. You were stunned into silence, falling back from the force of it. "There we go, that's better, isn't it? Now, let's go."

The person pulled you out of the alleyway, wrapping their arm around you so onlookers wouldn't question it. You were brought to a car and quickly pushed in, but you didn't fight against it, still in a state of shock. The slamming of the drivers side door as they climbed in finally brought you back to reality, you went to reach into your purse only to realize that you had dropped it in the alley. You were screwed.

Naomi and Junichiro ran into the office, she was clutching your purse against her chest. They were both out of breath, having been running the entire time to get back to the office. Everyone turned to look at the two, wondering why the two had entered in such a way. There was no time to question it though, Naomi was already shouting to everyone. "It's Y/N! Something bad's happened!" She screamed, and much to everyone's surprise, it was Fukuzawa who rushed out of his office at the sound of your name.

"What do you mean something bad has happened? Where is she?" His usual cool and calm demeanor wasn't present, he looked furious, but not only that, he looked terrified. Nobody answered his question, nobody had answers. "Weren't you two supposed to be with her? What happened?" He tried to keep his voice low, but the thought of you being in danger had him panicking, the fact that you weren't protected when you went out even though Junichiro was there had him furious.

Naomi bowed in front of him, and Junichiro followed suit right behind her. "I'm sorry, sir. I went into the store, and I made him follow me in. It's all my fault, sir." Her voice sounded weak, she felt awful for what had happened, but there was nothing she could do to make it better, and Fukuzawa didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear any apologies, he just wanted to know where you were at and to know if you were okay.

"Stand up. I need to know where she is right now, I will hear your apologies when she's safe. For now, we have to look for her." He looked to Ranpo after grabbing your purse from Junichiro's hand. "We need to go to where she was last seen, or where you found the purse. Let's go."

Kunikida jumped up from his chair, moving to stand in front of Fukuzawa. "With all due respect sir, I do believe that it would be safer if you stayed back at the office. I'm sure Ranpo will be able to track her down and bring her back safely." Ranpo nodded in agreement, but Fukuzawa only shook his head, moving quickly past everyone and out the door.

You were being held in what looked to be a basement, there was little light streaming in through the small windows in the wall, and all of the light bulbs had been broken. The rope that your captors had used to tie your hands behind the large metal pole in the middle of the floor was rough, it scratched against your wrists whenever you moved. You were alone,  the person that had brought you here had quickly left after restraining you. Would Naomi and Junichiro be able to find out what happened? You were hoping that they'd realize that you hadn't returned to meet up with them, or maybe they'd go to the store and look for you, maybe they'd find your purse and put two and two together. Hopefully someone was on their way to find you.

The floorboards creaked above you and you tried to listen closely, hoping to hear any voice, or any conversation that would give reason to why you had been taken. "She's just the secretary! Do you really think they'd waste time, risk themselves to come looking for the damned secretary!?" The voice was different from the one you had heard in the alleyway. This voice was much deeper, he sounded agitated, angry even that it had been you and not someone more important who had been kidnapped.

"Sir, she was the only one around, but I'm sure they'll come looking for her. They wouldn't just leave the secretary to be tortured, they have morals." The voice was definitely that of a man now that it wasn't being altered. He seemed to be pleading with the other man, and you wondered if they would even come down to check on you.

Your questions were answered as the footsteps moved deeper through the house, stopping at the door to the basement. It slowly creaked open, you felt your heart racing, beating too fast as the stairs groaned at the weight of the men walking down. You tried to back away, but you were trapped, your hands were tied, literally.

The man stood in front of you, eyeing you up and down as if you were an object instead of a person. "I must say, she is cute. But, will she get the job done?" The man asked, kneeling down in front of you, grabbing your face to look at you.

"Don't touch me." You tried to move your face out of his hand but he only held it tighter, squeezing your jaw with such force that it made your entire face ache.

"Was she this way with you?" The man turned to look at the other man behind him, he nodded in response. "What did you do to shut her up?"

"I knocked her out, sir. It was the only way. She struggles too damn much." The main man hummed as he contemplated what to do with you, turning your head side to side as he looked over your features.

"And you're sure they'll come to find her? What about the president?"

Your eyes widened at the mention of Fukuzawa, you tried to pull your hands free of the rope. "The president of the Agency would never come out here! Do you really think he would risk himself just to save the damn secretary?" The main man growled, throwing your head back against the pole. The room blurred for a second, your head was throbbing. "You'll never get to the president, so you might as well give up." You mumbled, your head was dropped as you tried to get used to the pain in the back of your head.

"Well if that's the case, you're useless to us." The man said, pushing himself up off the floor. He turned as if he was about to walk away, then he stopped, turning on his heels to look at you once more. "You look tired, let me help you sleep." He brought his foot to your face full force, your head hitting against the pole once more before finally blacking out.

Fukuzawa and the entirety of the Agency were standing in the middle of the alley as Ranpo scoured the ground for clues. "Have you found anything?" Fukuzawa asked, he was getting antsy and everyone was picking up on it.

"Sir, I know that she's a member of the Agency, but I'm picking up on some other type of feelings here right now." Dazai commented, pulling Fukuzawa out of his worry filled rage for a second. He turned to look at him before turning back to Ranpo, he didn't have time for Dazai's silly, but true, accusations.

"She's not close by, but look..." Ranpo pointed down to footprints in the dirt covered alley, there was one set of prints, and then a long line where someone had been dragged, and that someone was you. They followed the trail out to the street, and then Ranpo found the tire marks, and a small drip of oil. "I'm sure that the car that she was thrown into was parked here, and it's got an oil leak, so if we can follow the leak it might take us to where she's at, sir." Fukuzawa nodded, turning to face the rest of the members.

"Atsushi, Dazai, and Ranpo, I need you to follow the spill. The rest of us will stay on the lookout here just in case anyone comes back to the scene. If you three get there before anyone comes here, call one of us." Fukuzawa ordered the boys and they took off down the road.

"Sir, I really do believe that it would be in your best interest to stay at the office. I don't believe this is a matter that you should be risking yourself for." Kunikida pointed out once more. Nobody would understand, not yet at least. He would tell them though, he would let everyone at the Agency know what was going on between the two of you, and maybe then they would be more careful.

Only thirty minutes had passed, but it felt like forever for Fukuzawa. He heard Kunikida's cellphone ring from behind him and he quickly turned around, watching as he fumbled to pull the phone out of his pocket. "Right... okay... we're on our way. Thank you." He answered quickly and then closed his phone, returning it back to his pocket. "They found the place. Let's go." They all started racing down the street, Kunikida leading the way. Fukuzawa stayed close behind him, he had tunnel vision and the only thing he saw at the end of the tunnel was you.

The house they ended up at was old and abandoned, the porch was falling off the front, the roof was caving in, windows were busted out, the grass was overgrown and unkempt. When Fukuzawa saw it, his heart started racing faster. This wasn't the type of place you should be, he didn't even want to imagine what could be happening to you in there. Ranpo pointed out the car that was parked out front. Compared to the state of abandon that the house was in, the car looked almost pristine. "There's people in there right now. I think we should let-" Fukuzawa held his hand up, stopping Ranpo in the middle of his sentence.

"No. I'm going in there. I'm going to help save her." No one had it in them to fight him on it, they had all begun to suspect what his reasons were for being so involved, but no one voiced their opinions on it. He had already started walking towards the house, and they couldn't stop him, so they followed close behind. Even Kunikida couldn't do anything about it, so he kept his gun drawn, him and Dazai flanking both sides of him as he rushed through the door.

The house seemed empty from what they first saw, and then they were ambushed. The two men had come out from seemingly nowhere, running towards Fukuzawa. "I told you he'd come, didn't I!" The lesser ranking man shouted as he got closer, but his excitement was cut short as Dazai and Kunikida started firing off rounds at the men before they could get any closer.

They fell to the ground, and Fukuzawa couldn't be bothered to even check on them. As long as they weren't breathing, that's all that mattered. He stepped over them calmly, moving deeper into the house, opening side doors and checking into any rooms as he went along. Kunikida was on edge the rest of the time, fearing that there would be more people in the house. Dazai seemed slightly excited about the thought of more people being in the house, he had quite a bit of fun shooting those two men, but Fukuzawa was on a mission to find you.

He finally got to the basement door, pushing it open slowly. "Y/N..." He called out your name as he peaked down the stairs, everyone else stood behind him, everyone was listening and waiting for your response, and all of their hearts seemed to collectively fall when they were only met with silence. "She's gotta be down there." Fukuzawa said, slowly making his way down the stairs, but he wasn't ready to see what was there.

There was blood dripping down your face, and there was so much of it. Your head was still hung low, the blood was dripping down onto the floor creating a puddle between your legs. The sight of it made Fukuzawa drop to his knees, he practically crawled across the floor to get to you, lifting your head up slowly. "Y/N, darling, talk to me." He urged you, not even caring anymore that anyone else was around. They had all heard him clearly though, but none of them would bring it up, not until they knew you were okay. "Help... help me get her untied..." He said weakly, looking behind him at everyone, anyone.

Kunikida rushed over, unraveling the knot that had bound your wrists behind the pole. You started to fall over, but Fukuzawa's arms were quickly around you, pulling you close against his chest. "It's okay, you'll be safe soon."

You had a mild concussion but recovered quickly. Things had changed from then on, the biggest change was the fact that everyone in the office was now aware of your relationship with Fukuzawa. Most of them respected it and still kept their mouths shut, but Dazai was still the way he is about most things, he would often joke about it which would earn him a few glares from Fukuzawa. He would now openly walk down the street, your hand held tightly in his, if anyone were to try to mess with you now, they would have to deal with him first. Your protection and safety was still of the utmost importance to him, he just had to change the way he would keep you safe. He refused to risk losing you again. You were the love of his life, and he would do anything to keep you safe, to know that you would be by his side forever and always.