#All the food references 👀

[namaris]

Chapter 97

[eupheme]

Um I don't know if anyone's requested this yet but uh.... The Ghoul x Reader cockwarming? 😳 Maybe she's being punished and has to sit in his lap... And we all know how patient Cooper can be.

oooh omg yes!! 👀💖 I couldn’t stop thinking about this!!

— he’s a demon, he’s a devil

cooper howard | the ghoul x f!reader

rated e | 900 words

tags: power dynamics, cock warming, begging, mirrors, punishment, references to rough piv & overstim

“Stop your squirmin’.”

Cooper’s voice is harsh - a hot fan of breath in your ear, as his fingers tighten against your hips, “Supposed to be your punishment, for runnin' off like that.”

Too curious, too foolhardy. You hadn’t meant to leave his sight, but the pull of the empty house and the possibility of food inside had been too great.

He had been furious with you - bared teeth and snarling when you’d nearly upset a nest of radscorpions.

“Teach you a little somethin’ about patience.”

Teeth nip at your neck, then - a reminder to pay attention to what he’s telling you. Knowing that your mind is currently more occupied with much more pressing matters.

Like how he has your thighs spread wide, hooked over is. Unmoving for some unknown amount of time now - you’re not sure if it’s been minutes, or if time has been creeping closer to an hour.

It’s almost as if time has no meaning for him. As if it stopped ticking a long time ago.

Content to keep you here, just like this.

But all you can think about is the thick stretch of him inside you. Stuffing you to the brim while three fingers tuck against possessively against your cunt.

Two split to frame, the middle pressed right up against the tight, slick bud of your clit. Just enough pressure to keep you leaking around him, wound up.

Pinching, whenever you move. A silent warning.

You wonder if he can feel your pulse. The rapid racing of your heart, how it flutters behind your ribs. How much you need him.

The rough texture of his skin nudges against your walls each time you squirm - an effort to feel him move, just a little. Exactly what he was scolding you about now.

It’s not your fault. You’re not used to this.

Too used to him taking. Cruel thrusts that seem to carve you out from the inside, only so he can fill you himself.

Bruises that match the grip of his fingers, denting your skin. The too much of him giving you one, and then another, and the one more - just to hear the way you beg, only to turn around and sob with overstimulation.

This withholding - it is more torture than you can say.

Your toes curl inside your boots. Fingers pinching against your bare thighs, nails biting into your palms until they leave crescent-moon marks.

Trying to ignore the brush of his broad chest against your back as he breathes. The rough sound of it in your ear, making you shiver - resting the urge to clench down around him, because he will feel it and he will know.

Even trying to distract yourself brings no relief.

The room is plain - yellowed peeling wallpaper, a sun-bleached floor, broken furniture. The patterns all ones your eyes have already grown tired of tracing over.

Always going back to tipped-over vanity against the wall, the mirror spider-web cracked in its frame. It’s impossible not to look into it, at your angle.

To be drawn to it.

To the spread of his thighs reflected within, the lean stretch of his legs in the oversized chair. Fractures of where he splits you open. The broad cup of his weathered hand. The thick base of him, his sack beneath hanging full and shining with your slick, where it’s dripped down from your pussy.

Seven years bad luck, and right now it feels like you’re the one that broke it.

His fingers twitch and you can’t bite the soft moan back, as it slips from your throat. The slightest buck of your hips before the hand at your waist tightens. Pinning you firmly against him with a growled-out warning.

“Don’t make me start over.”

The thought of that has your heart plummeting, your words coming in a rush.

“No, I’ll be good. I’m sorry-” You beg, voice pitching up with your whine.

He clicks his tongue, and you swear you can almost feel him throb inside you.

“Are you, now? ‘m not so sure.” He rasps, “Can feel just how much your cunt wants to squeeze me. She’s aching’ for it’, ain’t she?”

A low drawl, as his fingers press slightly against you again in a cruel tease. Trying to coax you into moving again, though this time you try hard to stay still.

But you still can’t help the desperation that tinges your words, the syllable drawn-out.

“Please-”

The hum he makes is paired with a long sigh of mock-disappointment. As if this is torture, in any way, for him. As if he’s not getting off to it.

Just how needy you are for him. Testing the limits of your obedience.

“Maybe when I see some tears leakin’, sweetheart.” Cooper husks, his drawl making each word come out syrupy-slow. Sealing your fate.

“Then I’ll know you’ve learned somethin’.”

The ragged sound you make is pathetic.

Eyes flitting to the mirror again, and they meet his this time - a kaleidoscope of hazel in the cracked pieces of glass.

Where he’s been keeping an eye on you this whole time. Each greedy glance at where you’re joined, every shift of your hips.

Cooper hums, a rough sound of amusement, when he sees your expression. A silent answer with the tilt of his head, a sharp peek of teeth.

It tells you that you can whine all you want.

He’s got all fuckin’ day.

thank you so much for sending this in!! so perfect for him! 💖

[starleska]

all RIGHT for everyone confused about the ‘Wally eats with his eyes’ thing, here you go!! (+ a little speculation)

the creator of Welcome Home, @partycoffin (AKA Clown), has made a few references to Wally eating with his eyes. he was kind enough to visually demonstrate this with a gif, which you can find here!! the following gif belongs to Clown - just attaching here for an easy visual demonstration:

as you can see, Wally appears to use his eyes like a kind of psychic conduit, and absorbs the food using some power we can’t see or understand. neat, right? 👀 Clown has talked a bit about this in the past!! here they tell us that Wally is a polite fella who only ‘eats’ when you’re not looking. Clown also tells us that Wally knows exactly when you’re blinking. how...nice of him 😳 you’ll be pleased to know that Wally does not, as some of us thought, just shove food right into his eyeballs 😂  now for many of us, this little quirk of Wally’s is definitely raising some alarm bells given the consistent eye imagery throughout Welcome Home. this is especially intriguing given what Clown says about Wally’s perspective on the relationship between eating and food. here’s what i’m thinking. Wally’s house is alive, and is the only one with eyes. Wally likes to look at us. he likes to stare. what, then...does that make us? 😨

[whiteraven90]

Your take on griffins is so cool 👀 Do you have worldbuilding notes somewhere? Like what their dynamic is with humans, or what their habitats and habits usually are? I’d love to know more about them!

Hey, thanks for asking! I actually had written a little species description for them, but I shelved it until I draw illustrations for it. However I might as well post it now with less relevant pictures. Who knows when would I get around to drawing those illustrations. First of all... there are no gryphons on Tetra. No mortal ones, just spirits.

Spirits were created by the gods to be sentient blueprints for species. Flora & fauna were created out of chosen spirits (e.g. polar bear, barn owl), and the leftovers were repurposed (e.g. great horned gryphon, common pegasus).

In addition to the whole range of shapes/forms spirits were designed to take as part of nature, they also had their would-be behavioral patterns pre-set into them. So now lets see how the Great Horned Gryphons would have lived!

Great horned gryphons (also simply referred to as 'griffins' from now on) are sexually dimorphic, and live in pairs. They are very resource-conscious - individuals not raised properly may hunt their food sources to extinction, after which they either starve to death or get themselves killed while ravaging the animals of other griffins or humans. Each pair oversees a vast territory filled with wild herd animals. They engage in several behaviors that are basically animal husbandry. They will protect their herds from other predators and even natural disasters. They will herd their animals toward quality food. They can recognize juveniles of many species - humans included -, and will not eat them. They sometimes raise the abandoned offspring of other species, not because they plan to eat them, but because they get a kick out of it. They don't hunt, per se. They hit up one of their herds, select a specimen, and carry it home for lunch. They like to construct their nests atop cliffs and similar high points overlooking their territory.

Their relationship with people is complex (and hypothetical, as is everything else), since people may want to claim the same lands for the same purposes. But typically if they saw a lone human child, just waltzing around on their territory, they'd pick it up and put it down near adult humans. Solitary adult people tend to be safe as well for different reasons. The staple of griffins is large animals, and they like to conserve their energy. Normally they won't get up for 1 lone human nugget.

If an adult pair spots an unrelated juvenile griffin on their turf, they leave it alone, but they don't tolerate mature trespassers or other pairs. They are hostile to all other species of gryphon. Given the opportunity, they will kill and eat them. Great horned gryphons are viviparous and give birth to 1 chick at a time which stays with the parents for several years to learn some manners. Mostly moderation, recognizing important animal species, and caring for their animals. Their lifespan is 40-70 years.

And that's more or less it. At present, great horned gryphons are not plural. There's just one spirit, Griffin, representing the whole species, either until the heat death of the universe or until he bites the dust. Spirits are shapeshifters with a range of native forms as opposed to one original form. They have some rules among them on etiquette, such as when is it ok to take the form of another spirit. Griffin mostly uses his adult male form, and lets Phoenix take his adult female one.

Several of his species' characteristics can be felt in his personality - excels at relaxing, hard to anger or scare, won't hurt kids or pets and is good with them, extraverted, resource-conscious, enjoys having vast lands. His relationship with humans is... complicated. Nowadays he kinda pretends to be a pet at the palace of the emperor of the Karkian Empire, and is banned from or unwelcome in several other countries. Sorcerers summon him sometimes, but the jolly fucker usually charges by the hour for his spirit-y services, and may even screw the summoners over if he doesn't like them.

[thewidowsledger]

Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 12: A Room of Your Own | 5.2k

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, bad writing, slow burn, horny thoughts, gun pointing (?), bully Yelena (?), is fluff a warning? If yes, then what the fluff?

Author's Note: Scene reference from the movie Black Widow👀 I had to watch it so I can be able to write the scene. And, and, and the mascot was from my own experience, lol. Not proofread so if you see some stupid mistakes, no you didn't.

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

“Fuck.” You mutter to yourself as soon as you're sure that she's out of the room. It feels like you’ve been holding your breath since you felt Natasha close to you and now you're gasping for air. You immediately slapped your cheek over and over, trying to remove the thoughts out of your mind.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is wrong.” You feel your head being light, remembering her words.

“You can take it.”

“Just like that.”

“Good girl.”

You took a pillow and slammed it on your face with both of your hands and screamed at it, it stayed at your face for a couple of seconds before you slowly removed it.

You squeezed your thighs shut to relieve the aching feeling between your legs, “Oh God, forgive me for I have sinned.”

“Y/N?” A call coming out your door freaked you out, you immediately shuffled and got out of your bed, you ran towards the door as you put your clothes over your freshly cleaned up wound.

You peeked revealing Maria outside, “Oh hey.”

“Here's your food, there are actually stocks of food in your room but Natasha told the chef to have some soup made for you.” She said carrying a tray of soup and water. “You okay?” She asked as she saw your blushing form just staring at the tray.

“Oh yeah, shit t-thanks. I mean…” you winced as you opened the door for her to come in and immediately but carefully took the tray from her. You put it on the side of your bed and walked back towards her.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you, “So? How are you?” She asked crossing her arms, offering you a comforting smile

“I…” you shrugged.

"I know things are hard for you...complicated," Maria empathized. "But please don't sleep naked on the tile floor again, Y/N." She chuckled, as did you.

She noticed your nervous fidgeting and slowly began walking towards the door, with you following closely behind, crossing your arms and rubbing your arm.

"She was really worried about you," Maria declared as she looked at you.

You nodded slowly, recognizing the depth of Natasha's concern. Your heart wanted to jump out of its place. But you actually hadn't meant to cause her any worry, and now a plan began to take shape in your mind. You thought about making it up to Natasha for all she had done for you. Just as Maria started to leave your room, you hastily called out to her.

"I uh, Maria," you began, "Is it possible for me to go into the kitchen later? I'd like to do some cooking, or something." You cursed yourself for being so awkward.

“Oh…” she smiled, “Sure, I’ll tell the chef. Finish your food first and you can have the kitchen all by yourself.”

⧗

You quickly finished the remainder of your soup and carried the tray with you as you made your way out of your room.

With the tray in your grasp, you navigated through the halls, making your way towards the kitchen. As you walked, the sound of your footsteps echoed slightly in the deserted corridor, as if the emptiness itself was listening to your every step.

Finally, you arrived at the kitchen that Maria had pointed out to you a day ago. The kitchen was one large expansive room, without any doors or dividers. The space was seamless and open, allowing the air to flow freely between the workstations and appliances.

You cautiously stepped inside, placing the tray in the sink. You took a moment to survey the kitchen, your hands slightly fidgeting from nerves. You had initially planned to bake, but now that you are faced with the vastness of the kitchen, you actually don't know what to do now as you feel a little overwhelmed.

The kitchen was immaculate, the stainless steel counters gleaming under the warm glow of the overhead lights. Rows of pristine cookware, pots, and pans hung from hooks on the backsplash, and the various appliances were meticulously arranged on the counters.

“Wow…I only had a microwave in my apartment.” You muttered to yourself.

You took a moment to examine the cabinets, quietly searching for the ingredients you needed for what you planned to bake. Opening each one, you looked closely, taking mental note of what you had and what you still needed to find. Then, your eyes landed on the pantry, located to the left of the large fridge.

You entered the pantry, which was another expansive room brimming with ingredients.

“Wow…” your jaw literally dropped as you took a good look around the pantry, you couldn't help but marvel at the variety of items before you. It seemed like a mini grocery store!

One by one, you managed to retrieve everything you needed. The ingredients in your arms grew, until eventually you had everything you needed, including flour, sugar, chocolate chips, eggs, and butter. With your arms full, you carefully walked out of the pantry.

You began your cooking project by setting all the ingredients out on a clean countertop. The measuring cups, spoons, bowls, and baking sheets were placed strategically so you could easily access them. As you arranged everything, a small wave of overwhelm washed over you as you looked at the materials before you. You were anxious that you may accidentally damage or ruin them in some way.

You measured each ingredient, the aroma of the dough began to fill the room, blending the scents of sugar and butter. With each cup and teaspoon, you mixed the ingredients in a large bowl, creating a smooth and creamy base.

You had finally completed the cookie dough and were now preparing to bake it. However, in order to do so, you needed to find the parchment paper, which was nowhere to be seen.

“Where did I put it?”

You were frantically searching for it, knowing that you had just placed it in one place together with others. You began to worry that you misplaced it. Suddenly, you heard a voice behind you. “Looking for this?”

Startled, you whipped around to find Yelena, sitting casually on the countertop, holding the parchment paper you had been looking for. Your clumsy hands accidentally knocked over some of the ingredients, causing it to crash to the ground.

You immediately and instinctively crouched down to fix the mess you made, Yelena smirked down at the sight. She toyed with the parchment paper as you cleaned in front of her.

Yelena hummed a nonsensical tune, her feet idly swaying and occasionally coming close to your head, almost purposely. However, you tried not to let it get to you and refrained from showing any reaction. Deep inside, you couldn't help but hope that Natasha would appear, as she usually did when her sister was around, to rescue you from this frustrating situation.

“Yelena.”

Yelena turned, a smirk creeping in her face. She tilted her head, “Hey Riri.”

Maria's expression toward Yelena remained emotionless. She maintained a stoic demeanor, silently observing Yelena's actions and behavior. “You know where to find your sister.”

“I always do.” Yelena chuckled as she leaped off the countertop and nonchalantly let the parchment paper fall to the ground as you focused on cleaning up. Without a pause, she promptly walked out of the kitchen.

When Yelena was finally out of sight Maria immediately inquired if you're okay to which you nodded.

Maria, noticing the lingering tension Yelena left in the air, she turned to you with a sympathetic expression and softly apologized for Yelena's behavior.

"I'm sorry about Yelena," she said gently. "She can be quite...a lot."

Sensing your lack of response, Maria quickly shifted the conversation and her eyes landed at the countertop, seeing the dough you just made ready to be baked.

“You know, that looks really delicious,” she said, her tone shifting to a more casual one.

Her words were meant to ease the tension, hoping to alleviate any discomfort you might still be feeling. Her words, though simple, had a profound effect, causing your cheeks to blush. A small, shy smile graced your lips as you gratefully accepted her compliment.

“Thanks,” you said as you stood with the ingredients on your arms. “I just need to bake them, can I ask for a hand? I don't know how your oven works.”

Upon hearing your request for assistance, a warm smile spread across Maria's face. “Sure, whatever you need.”

⧗

"I know you’re out there.” Yelena, still concealing her presence, speaks out, her voice carrying a hint of challenge as she carefully closes the door behind her and pulled the gun behind her jeans.

Natasha, unfazed, responds calmly, she leaned back to her office chair, "I know you know I’m out here."

Yelena cautiously steps forward, her eyes scanning the room carefully. She picks her way through the room, avoiding any objects that might make noise or hinder her movement.

"So, are we going to talk like grown-ups?" Natasha said after a lack of response from her sister.

“Is that what we are?” Yelena shot back, finally revealing her sister who's sitting in her office chair, gun pointed in her direction.

The room is tense, their eyes locked in a deadly staring contest. Natasha stood from her chair and circled the desk, walking forward, her gun pointed directly at Yelena.

“Put it down before I make you.” Yelena said with a stern voice, she walked backwards when she saw Natasha slowly begin to advance. She kept her gun pointed precisely at her sister.

“You put yours down.” Natasha replied, keeping her gun trained on Yelena, her footsteps are measured and steady, her gaze still locked on the blonde.

As Yelena takes a step backward, she slightly stumbles. She falters momentarily but quickly regains her footing.

“Watch your step.”

Yelena responded with a smirk.

With each step, the distance closes between them, their body tense and ready for any sudden moves from each other.

In a quick, coordinated movement, both Natasha and Yelena switch their guns with each other, passing them between their hands while still maintaining their defensive stances.

The switch is swift and seamless, a testament to the skill and familiarity the sisters have with each other's movements. Both continue to watch each other intently, weapons now held in the other's hand. The air crackles with tension, neither of them willing to back down.

Natasha, in a split second, reaches out and touches Yelena’s gun and the unexpected touch is enough to send Yelena straight into attack mode. She quickly launches herself at Natasha, slamming her sister towards the wall.

Natasha winces, the impact on her back momentarily catching her off guard. But Natasha was quick to counterattack; she grabbed Yelena’s jacket, and pushed her harshly, she then yanked her towards the cabinets. In a single swift motion, Natasha slams her sister’s back against the table below, pinning her firmly by the jaw.

“Stay down, stay down!”

Despite being in a disadvantaged position, Yelena makes quick work of the situation. With her sharp and agile movements, she sneaks her hand behind her and grabs a stack of thick papers from the table. Before Natasha can react, Yelena brings the papers down hard against her sister's head.

The unexpected blow sends Natasha staggering back, her grip on Yelena momentarily loosening. Yelena uses this to her advantage and quickly stands from being pinned.

Natasha and Yelena continue eyeing each other, both of them are breathing heavily and are refusing to back down. The tension in the room is palpable. After a long moment, Natasha breaks the standoff and walks back to her desk, she winced as she touched her side slightly.

“How's mama?” Natasha asks in a detached tone as if they didn't just almost kill each other seconds ago.

Yelena can't hold back a smile. The mention of their mother seems to bring a bit of tenderness and excitement into Yelena's voice. She straightens her clothes after the fight, pausing to collect her thoughts before she speaks.

“She uhm,” Yelena started fidgeting, “Mama’s fine, she's okay and uhh…she misses you so much, like she always cooks your favorite when she misses you.”

Yelena's excitement was almost palpable as she shared this tidbit of information. On the other hand, Natasha's stoic expression gave away nothing of her emotions. She reached for a beer, uncapping it. The sound of the cap snapping off echoed in as her sister continued to ramble.

“And papa, he’s—”

“I only asked for mama did I?” Her response was crisp and biting, a clear indication that she had no interest in hearing about their father.

Yelena was visibly taken aback by Natasha's abruptness. She watched in silence as her sister finished the beer in one smooth gulp, setting the empty bottle down with a firm tap on the hardwood desk.

She huffed, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the room. Her voice was slightly mocking as she made a comment about Natasha's setup.

"Quite domesticated here," she began, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Got yourself a wife cooking downstairs, huh?"

Natasha's cold gaze flicked up to meet Yelena's, her expression hardening at the mention of you. She interrupted her sister sternly, knowing how this conversation would go.

"Enough."

But Yelena didn't relent, continuing to push her sister's buttons.

"All cutesy," she began, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Bringing poison into this house."

Natasha's patience had reached its limit. Her eyes flashed and her jaw tightened. In a swift, fluid movement, she slammed the jagged pieces of the broken glass onto the table, the sound of it making a loud thud against the hard surface. Her voice was low and sharp as she shouted at her sister.

Yelena didn't expect the sudden move, and she flinched momentarily.

"I said, enough." She emphasized each word, her fingers digging into the desk, the fragments of which were now scattered across the desk and the floor.

“Get out, I have a meeting to go to.”

Yelena let out a huff, her neutral demeanor faltering. She started walking backwards, still facing her sister.

"I don't understand you," she said, shaking her head slightly. "All of this for a woman you just met weeks ago."

She began to make her way out of the room. As she reached the threshold, she turned back to look at her sister, her expression firm. In a quieter voice, she added, "Don't drag yourself into this."

And with that, Natasha was left alone in her office, shattered glasses, scattered papers everywhere. The silence was thick and heavy. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the chaos that surrounded her. She let out a sigh, running her hands through her hair, the stress of the situation starting to manifest physically. As the clock ticked by, counting down the minutes until her meeting, Natasha took a deep breath to steady herself.

⧗

You had just finished plating the cookies, neatly arranging them on a tray. The thought of finding Natasha to give her the baked goods brought a small smile to your face. However, your thoughts were interrupted when you turned and saw Yelena leaning against the counter. Her sudden appearance made you jump slightly, the familiar feeling of uneasiness creeping over you.

Yelena chuckled seeing your reaction. She watched you intently, her expression amused. It was clear she enjoyed startling you and making you feel uncomfortable, as always

“Looking for Natasha?” She asked as if she could read your mind, you nodded not daring to look at her.

“I know where she is,” remembering that her sister just told her that she has some meeting to attend to. A smirk creeped into her face as she thought about you making some surprise visit to that meeting.

“2nd floor, last room at the left hall.”

You smile slightly at her and your eyes flickered as she told you where her sister is, the excitement evident in you.

“Thanks,” you said, slightly stuttering due to your eagerness to leave. “You can have some if you want.”

With the tray of cookies in your hands, you began slowly making your way past Yelena. A wave of disdain flooded over her. She hated how genuine you were, showing kindness even after she had been so tough on you. No matter how hard time she gave you, you still managed to make small genuine acts towards her and she hated it.

She hated you.

Yelena, despite her best efforts to stay aloof, found herself drawn to the freshly baked cookies sitting on the counter. The aroma was irresistible. Her pride told her not to take one, but her stomach says otherwise. In a swift motion, she picked one up and quickly stuffed it into her mouth, the sweet taste only adding to her inner conflict. It was so good that she hated you more.

⧗

As you make your way down the hall towards where Natasha is, your heart thumps in your chest. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach, each step bringing you closer. As you approach the hall, you mentally rehearse what to say.

“This is for you,” you say aloud, testing the words out. Then, you jokingly chide yourself, “What? No greetings? That's so disrespectful of you Y/N.”

“I baked cookies for you,” you tried again with a sigh on how awkward you sound.

Caught up in your internal monologue, you continue to walk and rehearse your lines, blissfully unaware of your surroundings. The door suddenly opens under your touch, and you find yourself standing in the doorway of Natasha's office.

Shit. You stop short, your eyes swept across the room. Not only is Natasha present, but there are also four other men in there, all of whom look like hardened criminals. They were in the middle of a meeting, and your unexpected entrance caught everyone's attention. Silence filled the air as their gaze landed on you, and you felt completely out of place, standing in the doorway with the tray of cookies in your hands.

Instantly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. All the men in the room quickly stood up, their expressions neutral as they drew their weapons and aimed them directly at you as if they were trained to do it. The sound of multiple guns cocking filled your ears, and you instinctively froze, the tray of cookies trembling in your hands and your eyes started to get covered with tears. You thought this is it for you.

Natasha shoots up from her chair. “Fuck,” she muttered enough for everyone to hear, “Don’t you dare fucking shoot her! Out! Now!”

Your shoulders jump at the sharpness of the order, you know she has your protection in mind, though. You're on the verge of crying while apologizing for barging in on the meeting, but the men in attendance also jump to their feet, instantly bowing courteously to Natasha before hastily making their exit giving you a wide berth as they open the other door to her office and file out.

Natasha's eyes were locked onto you, concern etched across her face.

“Fuck…” a cursed escaped her lips. “Baby…” And without realizing it, a term of endearment slipped out this time. Natasha could see the shock on your face and the tremble in your hands holding the tray of cookies. She gently took the tray from you and set it down on the long table in the meeting room.

“Hey,” she called, holding your face.

Your words came out in a shaky breath, your voice quivering slightly. “I'm so sorry Natasha,” you said, the guilt and embarrassment evident. “I didn't mean to…” You tried to hold back the tears, but the sobs began to take over, your body shaking slightly.

You managed to get the words out between the sobs, explaining, “I just wanted to give you these cookies I made for you. And...and your sister...she told me you were here…” Your voice sounded like a small child complaining.

“Eta suka.” (That bitch) she whispered.

“I’m sorry, you weren't supposed to see that.” She said softly, bringing your head on her shoulder. You caught a whiff of her perfume as you nuzzled closer to her neck.

“You baked this for me?” she asked, caught off guard, your shy nod confirmed and a small smile curled on her lips.

“Why don't we get out and enjoy them?” You nodded again, this time with a genuine smile blossoming on your face.

⧗

As you and Natasha walked side by side, she casually looped her arm around your waist, making you feel safe and secure. In her other hand, she held the tray of cookies.

Suddenly, you were startled to see a guard carrying a large gun standing in front of you. Surprised, you looked up at him, but Natasha quickly intervened, asking him to step aside.

She turned to you and explained apologetically, “Sorry, it's security.” You nodded, understanding the need for precautions in her line of work.

“Don't you have an ongoing meeting?”

Natasha simply shrugged and responded nonchalantly, "They can wait."

“I’m really sorry, you should've finished whatever you're discussing if I didn't barge in—”

As you began to apologize once again, Natasha quickly reassured you, cutting off your apology before you could finish. Holding your hand, she gently squeezed it to comfort you.

"Y/N, it's okay." She continued walking with you, leading the way towards the tranquil garden of the manor.

Your eyes widened in awe as you took in the breathtaking view of the lake in front of you. "Wow," you breathed out, captivated by the beauty of your surroundings.

Natasha gestured for you to take a seat beside her in the soft grass. She removed her leather jacket and laid it down on the ground, creating a soft surface for you to sit comfortably.

As she did so, you inadvertently caught a glimpse of her biceps flexing. To your surprise, you could see that her arms were adorned with intricate tattoos, the ink dancing across her skin. But there was also a long, slender scar running through one of the tattoos, partially concealed by the ink.

The sight of it caused your breath to hitch in your throat, your gaze lingering on her skin and her strong arms.

You quickly shifted your gaze, your mind raced as you hoped she hadn't noticed the way your eyes had lingered on her arms.

Looking away, you redirected your attention to the serene lake in front of you, the cool breeze gently ruffling your hair and bringing some relief to your flushed face.

The two of you sat down together, she put the tray of cookies in front of you and you on the other hand was still fascinated at the view of the lake, your mouth slightly opened. Natasha couldn't help but smile at you, she grabbed a cookie from the tray which caught your attention.

“So?” You asked, “How was it?”

“You should try your own cookie.” She said, winking at you and you did, you grabbed one and took a bite.

“It's heavenly,” she commented, you looked at her with your brows furrowed.

“Heavenly?” You laughed, “What are you a poet?” You said between giggles.

For a few moments, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you sat together in the garden. It wasn't an awkward silence per se, but rather a calm and peaceful atmosphere that surrounded you both.

Your eyes wandered idly, scanning the surroundings until they landed on a beautiful rose bush nearby. A sense of wonder filled you as you spotted a single red rose in full bloom. Excited, you pointed at it and exclaimed with a childlike enthusiasm.

"Look, a rose! Like the ones on your shoulder!”

As soon as the words left your lips, you immediately realized your faux pas and hastily apologized.

“I'm sorry,” you said remorsefully. “I think they're cool you know, your tattoos.”

Natasha looked at the roses, not providing an immediate response. Feeling even more embarrassed, you repeated your apology with a pout, feeling awkward.

Natasha chuckled at your adorable reaction and reassured you, “It's fine, Y/N.”

After a moment of silence, you found yourself rambling again. Curiosity tinged your voice as you mused aloud,

“So it's true, mob bosses…gangsters or whatever…they all have tattoos on their upper bodies, huh?”

Natasha hummed, “Yeah, I guess they do,”

A teasing smile tugged at your lips as you jokingly inquired, “You think I'd look good with tattoos too? Look, I have scars now too.” Natasha's eyes met yours, and a soft chuckle escaped her lips in response to your question.

Your heart skipped a beat as her laughter filled the air. The mere sound of her amusement sent a wave of warmth rushing through you, causing a flutter in your chest. It was a small victory, earning her laughter, but one that felt significant nonetheless.

“You silly girl,” she remarked as she took another cookie from the tray.

“It's an initiation rites,” she started, you shifted and sat properly beside her ready to listen to whatever she's going to say.

“I never wanted to have it, my mother told my father that it should stop with him.” She pauses, gathering her thoughts, before continuing, “The curse of our blood.”

That line just made your skin crawl.

“I saw how people looked at my father, all the scars in his body? I don't wanna be seen that way.” Her voice trembles slightly.

“I woke up,” she shifted slightly, “in a chair, I was tied up. I was 15 when I had it, my father slowly scarred my skin while I was begging him to stop. I was shouting for my mom but she never came.” She said it nonchalantly as she recounts the harrowing experience.

Your heart wrenched in your chest as you listened to her.

“From then I had to accept my fate.” A hint of bitterness tugged at the corners of Natasha's lips. “But that didn't mean I had to carry it on with me.”

Her eyes darted to the ground, studying the blades of grass that lay beneath her feet. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing.

“I managed our business for 4 years and left to start my own. I haven't seen my parents since, only Yelena.” She looked at you, placing her hands at her back so she could lean on them and she straightened her legs forward. “What about you?”

“Oh, me?” You asked, pointing at yourself using the cookie.

“Yes, silly.” She giggled at you.

“I don't wanna make it about me though, you’re sharing yours—”

“Please tell me, I wanna know.” She cut you off.

You fell silent for a moment, collecting your thoughts and steeling yourself recalling your past. You swallowed the last piece of cookie in your hand before you spoke.

“Well, let's start with the fact that I never got to see my parents,” you began casually. “My mom died giving birth...to me and my dad left my mom before I was even born. So I grew up with my grandparents, but when they passed away, I had to live by myself.”

As you continued, your hands instinctively sought comfort, and you started to hug your legs tightly.

“My aunt took my grandparents' house and decided to sell it,” you huffed, your voice laced with bitterness. “They gave me my part of it because my mom’s gone and yeah, of course, I get to have her share in that.

“I started working at 17 to pay for my school," you said, recounting your early attempts at earning money. "I did everything, I worked at a laundromat, waitress, hostess, janitress, mascot…”

“Mascot?” Natasha's curiosity piqued, as she immediately asked.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you nodded and explained, “Yeah, there was this pizzeria that was having their opening and for a month I was half human and half pizza.”

“Wow…” Natasha laughed, “That’s funny…I mean no offense and respect to that because that's a difficult job.”

“Yeah, it is ‘coz they stink with all the sweat you know, ugh.” You rolled your eyes and made a gagging noise that earned another laugh from the redhead.

“Do you know how mascots blink?” you asked, your chin lifted in with a grin on your face.

“Ooh interesting, how?”

"When I did it, there's actually this thing in the hands of the mascot that whenever you close the hands," you lifted your left hand and formed a balled fist, demonstrating the mechanism of the mascot, “the mascot also blinks.”

“Ooh, I thought—”

You quickly guessed her thought, laughing slightly, “That it blinks when the person inside blinks?”

“I know it sounds so stupid but yeah.” She admitted with a sheepish grin.

You both couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea, to the point that both of you had to lay back down almost dying in laughter.

When the both of you finally calm down, Natasha's question broke the silence, and her curious tone filled the air as she asked, facing you as both of you were laying down, “So you went to college?”

“I did.”

Natasha then continued her line of questioning, “What happened? Did you finish?”

“I did. I was late for 2 years. Decided to have a leap year so I can save money for college. I took theater arts and when I finished I moved to New York with all my savings, hoping to fulfill my dream, you know...every kid's dream, everybody's dream, Broadway. But things didn't go as planned. But…I still had planned my future and I did plan some options. We need some safety net y’know?”

“Planned some options?” Natasha asked, slightly curious at the thought.

“Yeah.” You nodded, you can actually feel the grass and the dirt mixing with your hairstrand.

“And the plan is?”

“My plan is…one, to get a degree, finish college and I already did that. And I have two options if my degree doesn't work out for me.” You paused, your tongue darting out to wet your lips before continuing.

“One, be a stripper or two, be someone's trophy wife. And that's how I landed on Valkyrie's, option one.” You finally turned to look at her but she was already staring at you, your eyes widened and immediately got up trying to cover up the blush creeping in your face.

Natasha slowly sat beside you, your heart skipped a beat. You felt her presence as she reached for your hand, gently pulling you to your feet.

"I gotta show you something."

You grabbed her leather jacket and left the empty tray of cookies. The two of you walked back towards the manor, passing by a couple of armed guards who stood watch.

Natasha led you towards the large hall, her grip on your hand firm and sure. As she opened the double doors, you were immediately struck by the empty room that greeted you.

The space was spacious, with mirrors lining the walls and a solitary pole placed in the center. The polished wooden floor shone under the dim lighting, creating a subtle and intimate atmosphere.

A shy smile played on Natasha's lips as she spoke, looking directly at you. Her voice was soft, almost sheepish as she confessed.

“I still remember that dream of yours being a ballerina. So I had this room made just for you.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “Natasha, this…” Your voice trailed off for a moment as you gathered your thoughts, your emotions overwhelming you.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, your voice cracking slightly as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks.

You don't need to be scared now.

No one will stop you.

No one will threaten you to know your place.

Because right now, at this moment, you do know your place.

You stepped forward and leaned towards Natasha, you gently planted a soft kiss on her cheek, your lips lingering for just a fraction of a second.

Secrets Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

[pedge-page]

i was to late to vote in the poll (as if my one vote would have changed the results lol) but now i’m constantly thinking about sub! piss kink! joel aaaaaaa maybe like pee shy in public joel who needs assistance 👀

Don't Be Shy

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: anon referring to a poll waaaaay long ago. But I'm happy that i was now finally able to write this!!!! Haru is BACK.

Warnings: piss kink, very slight piss drinking, subish!Joel, public assisted masturbation, oral m receiving, exhibitionism, getting caught

Check out Piss Kink section on my Masterlist for more

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He grumbled this morning about going for a walk around the local park, but you insisted it would be good idea to get some fresh air, work those joints.

Get some revenge.

“Ya happy gettin’ your sun like a goddamn plant?” He grunts as you sway his hand in yours.

You’ve found quickly that Joel is actually a homebody. He likes to stay in for everything : food, entertainment, comfort. So naturally anything that one can do in the privacy of your own home—should stay in the privacy of your own home.

The sun is shining bright as you squint and nod happily. He does look a bit out of place: such a pleasant atmosphere, hot as hell with clear skies and beautiful nature all around, while he wears a paint and hole ridden shirt and some thick jeans with boots. Perspiration bead at the edge of his hair line, and despite the creaks of his fine wrinkles, he doesn’t look that unhappy. He’s exaggerating most of it.

You carried along a large canteen of water as well—for special reasons.

You unscrew the cap and practically shove it in his mouth. “Drink up big boy. Don’t want you dehydrating.” 

“This the third time you have me ‘hydrating’ in fifteen minute,” he noses suspiciously, but still gulps the fresh water without hesitation. His wrist comes up to wipes the excess dripping from his lips. “Got a reason?”

“Depends. How are we feeling?”

He shrugs, though there is a little shift in his jeans. “Wouldn’t mind a bathroom sometime soon. They don’t got porta potties on this trail, do they?”

You giggle and kiss his scruffy cheek. “Ive got something better.” You grip his hand more firmly and rush over to a semi secluded water edge that has shrubbery and trees along either side of the clearing. There’s even a wooden bench settled facing the lake to enjoy the lush calm scenery of the still water.

Excitement rushes through your veins as you glance around to make sure no one else is coming before getting to your knees and undoing his pants.

Joel panics for a moment, his hands quickly going to scoop you back to your feet.

“Nononono, darlin’ this ain’t a ‘me’ thing this is a ‘you’ thing—“

you slap his bear paws away and continue your ministrations. “You always make me do it. It’s your turn.”

He hisses inwardly, looking around as well as you fish his soft cock out of his underwear. He peers down only to make contact with your doe eyes all big and seductive staring back at him. Your fingers wrap around his base before putting his tip into your mouth. Even soft, he’s got quick a package, but the feeling doesn’t last long as you quickly begin bobbing and sucking around his rapidly growing erection.

He tilts his head back and lets out a groan, hand coming over the back of your head. The warm wet sensation of your perfect lips suckling in his dick is almost enough to distract him from the fact that he’s got his jeans pooled by his leg in a public park with his girlfriend sucking him off.

Your hands glide along his thighs and over his ass, soothing his agitation. Reminding him that you’re here now, with his member deep in your throat. His insides unwind a little. Falling under your spell as you bring him pleasure.

When your palms begin to creep to his lower belly and push, he centers back to reality with a yelp. Startled, he instinctively pulls away from you, but the strength of your other hand wrapped around his ass reels him back in.

“Shhhhhhh,” you hum, grinding your fingers into his pelvis. “Didnt you say you needed to go? All that hydration a bit too much for you?”

His nose scrunches into an angered snarl. “I fucking kneeewwww…” he exhales through gritted teeth and a pointed finger down your way. He can’t even stay focused on scolding you as he anxiously checks behind him for any passersby. There was a host of walkers and joggers when the two of you started your walk. The idea that any of them, particularly the judgmental looking highty-tighty women, catching him right now makes the situation 10x worse.

100x times better for you, though. You can see the little crevices in his forehead each time he breathes shakily. His Adam's apple wobbling and the inward press of his knees. You know Joel lives to make you piss yourself anywhere and any time he commands it. Today, you wanted him to surrender control, something he seldom does. But you know he’d love it—he just needed some encouragement.

“You look so pretty, baby,” you tease. Your thumb circles his lower belly as you kiss his salty mushroom head.

He shakes his head with a throaty laugh. “Know what ya doin—shit—mmmmm!—ain't gonna work.”

But the signs are there: he’s crumbling, both brain and body. Lying through his teeth in the hopes you’ll stop and just tuck him back in and continue on.

Though if he doesn’t piss right now, he might just do so in his pants five minutes from now.

“Fuck,” he rasps, hunching over slightly with closed eyes. His lips are trembling as you take him deep, your tongue swirling on his underside before pulling out with a pop. You jerk him off with a smirk on your lips. 

“You wanna do it? Gonna piss in the middle of a fucking park, because you can’t hold it in your pants like a big boy?”

“Nnnmmm—y—yessss,” he whines. “Wanna—wanna go.”

 You shush him with a satisfied grin while lazily pumping his girth against your cheek. Standing up, you kiss the worry wrinkles on the crevice of his eye. "Don't be shy, Joel. Show everyone what this piss-hungry dick can do."

Desperate gasps escape his full lips as he can’t help but lean his head onto your shoulder, staring down at you jacking his cock off.

“You’re so good to me,” you coo, stroking the tense muscles of his back with your other hand. “Let me help you. Let it all go—“

No sooner that you had finished your words before Joel staggers a breath and begins unloading his bladder. He watches with parted lips and raised, relaxed brows as you hold his dick, the tip shooting out a strong stream of piss into the lake water where it splatters satisfyingly against the surface.

You giggle and press your face to his ear, kissing his pulse. “How’s that?”

“So—so good, baby,” he rasps with a throaty choke. You don’t miss the way he ever so slightly cants his hips forward, fucking your soft fist. “Shit.” He tosses his head back again and chuckles from deep within his chest. He’s very rarely felt this level unwinding totally, let alone in public. 

Joe’s cock is warm, undoubtedly from the hot piss he’s dumping like a beautiful fountain of yellow. 

“You’re so pretty when you let me help you. You like being a horny little boy, letting me suck you off till you’re peeing everywhere. It’s okay baby. I’m always going to take care of you. Need me to help you every minute, huh?”

His face unwinded in a drunken bliss. Pouty lips parted as he gazes upon you with hazy loving eyes. You continue to kiss between his jaw and lips, tongue teasingly wetting his skin though he doesn’t care. “Love—ugh fuck yeah—love pissing. Pissing for you, baby. Feels better when ya do it for me.”

You pumping his cock and bring your finger to his slit, just slightly interrupting the stream and getting your fingertip wet with his warm urine. His brain is so far gone, that when you slide it right along his lips, the rancid salty taste doesn’t phase him and he happily sucks your your piss-dripped finger into his mouth with a hum. You laugh and kiss him again, tonguing one along so you too can barely taste his pee on his lips. “You’re so bad, Joel Miller.”

If he had half his mind right now, he’d still be so worried about onlookers. And maybe you would be too, now seeing some movement coming from the trail behind you. He sees the change in your expression briefly, immediately turning to see a woman strolling along, not paying any mind until she hears the trickle of splashing water, sees the two of you standing so close, and a fat strip of urine shooting from Joel’s crotch that she gasps. 

Joel chokes when he makes eye contact with her, turning to push his red face into your chest as his piss stops and is replaced with thick shots of semen blasting from his dick.

You continue to watch the horrified women, your jaw dropping with a wildly sadistic grin as Joel stutters in your grasp, working his orgasm over and unable to really hide what’s happening from any crevice of the world. And he likes it, fucking hell. Whimpering pathetically like a hurt pup. He’s never cum so hard from a piss in his life. The embarrassment he should feel, being caught pissing in a lake with his girlfriend jerking him off in a public park, and then cumming as soon as he’s caught...

The two of you are equally in a state of shock and odd satisfied at the revelation. 

As a show of dominance, you maintain eye contact with the poor walker and kiss Joel’s fluffy head. The lady makes a disgusted sound and storm away, unable to bring her eyes to the sight before her any longer. 

Your boyfriend, however, is so drained of liquid from his body that, as the last little drips of his cum pebble out onto your fingers, still gliding over his over sensitive length, he huffs into your breasts and closes his eyes. His breath is hard, gulping his saliva trying to catch his breath.

“You’re amazing,” you whisper to him. He laughs a little, shivering. He feels good in your grasp, in your protection. Your arm protectively wrapped around his back his other shoulder, while your other hand strokes gently along his spent, wet cock. 

“‘M never comin’ on a walk with you again.” He finally stands up fully on his own and fists his softened dick back in his pants. Even as he glares at you, regaining his in-control composure, neither of you miss the little smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. One that neither of you need to really verbally address again, but both still know his little newfound secret.

That Joel Miller would jump to do this again in a heartbeat.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover

[cupcakeslushie]

Kendratello AU question...

When you say torture in the tags...is that referring to the forced brainwashing methodology or something more brutal?

Coz for all the purple dragons are creeps, I personally don't head cannon them as capable of extended periods of physical violence. At least not in the Rise verse. 2005, absolutely and even 2012 could have its moments. And this is coming from the understanding that Kendra herself is an utterly irredeemable character in this au.👀

Not so much violent torture. That tag was more just to cover a general vibe of like in the earliest days when Kendra would withhold food. Or, yeah the psychological torture and various forms of restraining Donnie to keep him from moving out from under the helmet. She’d also take the helmet away only to put him in other means of sensory deprivation. Etc etc…It’s all like 90% mental and maybe 10% physical torture. But nothing like carving into Donnie or taking some toes lol.

Any one of the Dragons would probably barf at that.

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) I ch. VII

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6,656

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), cute date on the back of jk's car trunk, jk nervous, jk gives lots of gifts & flowers to oc, oc is obsessed with clearance chocolate, auntie oc and uncle kook take care of yoongi's twins, jk & oc become guinea pigs for yoongi's kids lmao, mention of dentist!yoongi, jk's mommy issues get mentioned, jk has personal daddy issues but he working through them, jk being good hubby to oc, just a rollercoaster of emotions ngl

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: Hello! thanks for being patient with me guys!! Important: the flashback for this chapter follows events of chapter V and will refer to it. And yes it's thier first date! Kind of 👀👀 that will be for you to decide. Then we have present day jk and oc being guinea pigs for Yoongi's crazy twins hehehe. Ok pls, enjoy 💞

<< ch. VI ༓ ch. VIII >> ┃series masterlist

You know how some couples have multiple weddings that lead to disagreements over their real anniversary date? Or maybe it’ll be when the relationship was made official or what the first sign of attraction was? Yeah, that’s you and Jungkook when it comes to pinpointing exactly when your first date was.

If you ask your husband, he’ll tell you it was weeks after you were discharged from the hospital during your postgrad studies. But in your opinion, it was far before his timeframe.

You see due to a group of overly eager college freshmen, you had sprained your ankle and cracked a rib. Jungkook stayed with you the entire first two weeks of the recovery period. He'd bring study notes to you, your favorite food, hell even art supplies he bummed off Taehyung to help break up your mundane days in the hospital.

When the time finally came that you were well enough to finish the healing process at home, he suggested a dinner out would be an excellent way to celebrate.

"...do you wanna go out to dinner?" Jungkook pops the question more causal than expected.

"Are you asking me on a date…?"

His reply is barely audible but you hear it and for the first time, your professor sounds truly timid. "Uh, well…let's go with hang out like friends do."

You’re convinced that this was the first time he asked you out, thus leading to your first date. Your husband, however, thinks it was too vague to tell. He prefers to see it as more a pre-date instead.

So, was it a date?

Was it an unspoken pre-date?

The jury’s still out about this one.

4 years ago

It’s a gorgeous day with the way the sun beams on the hood of his car. A few scattered clouds, fluffy and white, float across the sky as well, offering shelter from the heat. You were discharged from the hospital only yesterday and Jungkook was already insistent on going out today, saying that a little fresh air and a change of scenery would be good for you.

“Where are we going?” You turn your head from the passenger window to look at the man inquisitively. It’s a simple question but the tension of the unknown nibbles at you from inside.

“One of my favorite spots,” Jungkook replies with his eyes set on the road. “Hope you don’t mind the drive. It’ll be another fifteen minutes.”

“It's fine. Why can’t I know where we’re going though?”

He hesitates to answer. “Do you not like surprises?”

You shrug. “Sure I do, as long as I know about them ahead of time.”

A hearty laugh follows your words and it sends one of the warmest feelings through your whole body. You didn't think you were being funny, but after being stuck in the hospital for two weeks, it's nice to feel something other than dismal. Jungkook is good at lifting your spirits at the most unexpected of times, you hum to yourself.

He looks handsome today too.

You can’t stop yourself from thinking about it as you watch a few strands of his dark hair blow over. He has his window cracked to let in a gentle breeze and though it causes him trouble here and there, he remains mostly unbothered.

The oversized white T-shirt he chose to wear is something you're still taking time to adjust to. Much more casual compared to what he wears during his lectures. But you like it with the loose-fitting pants he's paired it with.

"If it's necessary for you to know where we're going then I guess I have no choice." Jungkook looks in your direction but your gaze lingers down his torso. "__."

"Yes?" You immediately blink up at him, hoping you don’t look too flushed. Once he directs his attention back to the road you'll make sure to check yourself in the side-view mirror. Using your phone camera might look a little too obvious.

"I was saying if you need to know where we're going I'll tell you," he repeats. "But if it's possible I'd really like for it to be a secret until we get there."

"Alright," you concede. "I guess I could stand the wait this one time. This is your only freebie though. No more surprises after this."

"No more checking me out," he mutters.

"What?"

"Nothing."

.

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"No." Jungkook opens his door and hops out of the car. "I'll be right back."

"Wait where are you going?" You know he wants whatever this is to be a surprise but you've been told to keep your eyes shut for the last five minutes. You're a little nervous to say the least, especially if he's about to disappear somewhere. "Jungkook?"

No response.

"Hello? Jungkook?" You're tempted to open your eyes when you hear the trunk of his car suddenly pop open. Several rustling noises follow as he digs around. "What are you doing back there?"

"You'll see soon. I'm almost done so just sit tight for a moment." He unzips a bag and then pushes said bag around the floorboard. The sound of something crashing on the ground perks up your ears in the moments following, earning a tiny 'shit' from Jungkook.

"Everything alright?" You're seriously getting antsy now.

When Jungkook swings your door open, a cool breeze hits your legs. "All good __. But now, I'm going to need you to trust me because I'm going to help you out of the car."

What?

"Um, I do have crutches I can use you know. You don't have to carry me anywhere like before. Dr. Kim said I should–"

"You won't need them this time. We're not going far okay?" He ducks his head inside and guides your arms around his neck. "Can you scoot forward a little?"

You do as he says until he tells you to stop. And with one arm supporting your lower back and the other firm under your legs, you're lifted out of your seat.

"Okay." The ground underneath his feet crunches as he straightens himself back up and out of the vehicle. "Now you can open your eyes."

As soon as you do your jaw drops.

"Surprise!"

Jungkook watches your stunned face as you take in all of Seoul from your perched position.

"I hope you don't mind that I didn't take us to a traditional restaurant. This is an overlook I happened to stumble on years ago when I first moved here. Not many people know about it because it's kind of off the beaten track but I get a bit adventurous sometimes."

He carries you around to the back of the car.

"Since you're still recovering I won't make us sit on the ground but I brought food that we can eat in the back of my trunk. There's a pillow there you can lean against too. And I made sure to park at an angle so we can watch the sunset."

"Wow...Jungkook I don't know what to say."

"It's cheesy isn't it?" His previously eager tone drops and you can't help but feel a pulling at your heartstrings. "I'm sorry if this isn't your thing. I probably should have asked."

"I love cheesy." You crack a small smile and Jungkook breaks out into a grin again, causing both of you have butterflies in your stomachs. "You're very thoughtful for doing this. I'm sorry about my initial reaction. I'm just shocked."

"Well, we're friends now, aren't we? You should get used to this kind of stuff from now on." He walks up to the trunk and carefully sets you down. "Here, lean back." He fluffs the pillow and then gestures for you to lay back.

Once you're comfortable, he hops in next to you and grabs the baby blue gift bag from the corner of the trunk. You don't know how you missed it before given its size and very decorative packaging.

"Before I give you this to you please know that I don't expect anything back okay?" His hands are shaky as he holds the bag on his lap. "This is just something I wanted to give you after your injury and having to be in the hospital for so long."

You nod your head in understanding but are not fully convinced. "And you're giving this to me as a friend, yes?" You take the bag from him and slowly open it.

"Mhm."

You narrow your eyes at him before reaching into the bag. You take out a very large, sturdy box. "God, Jungkook. This is so heavy. What's in here?" You tear apart the wrapping paper and open the smooth lid. "Oh my god, you didn't?!"

They're chocolates from the dessert shop you told him about last Sunday night. You had mentioned it in passing because you were craving sweets but not in the slightest did you think he'd take it to heart. The shop was at least an hour's drive away.

"Don't worry." He sees the pressure creeping on your face. "I was going that direction anyway. But I saw it on my way back and was reminded that you were craving it the other night. Uhm, there's also a coupon in there too. They included that in the purchase."

"Jungkook....you really didn't need to do any of this for me." You grab the small card laying at the bottom of the bag that reads 20% off. "Thank you so much."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" You're taken aback when he jumps off the trunk to scurry to the backseat. He returns in mere seconds with a generous bouquet of pink and purple hydrangeas. "These are for you too."

You shriek and grab them out of his hand, feeling a little giddy. Hydrangeas are your absolute favorites. "Sorry, that was really rude of me. These are so beautiful, though. Thank you. I don't know what to say."

Jungkook sits back down and pulls forward a freezer bag. "Seeing you this excited is enough. I brought us a lot of food too so, we should probably eat it before it starts going bad. This bag can only do so much preserving." He digs out box after box of yummy food from fresh strawberries to sushi. There are drinks too; banana milk and soju.

Your stomach growls as you watch him set the food between you both.

"Well, don't be shy." He hands you a plate with chopsticks. "Dig in."

.

"You look very pretty in that blouse..." He stabs his straw into his milk and takes a large sip. "The color really suits you."

"Oh, thank you." You manage the words once you swallow the strawberry you're eating. "Yours too."

Jungkook combs through his hair with his fingers. "Thanks, this t-shirt really brings out my eyes don't you think?" You laugh and shove his shoulder lightly.

"Stop, I'm being serious. I don't see you in this type of style often. It looks good."

He gives a playful shake of his head. "Where did you get that shirt anyway?" He gestures at your top again.

"At a store," you reply dumbly. "It was on sale. Gotta love a good deal right?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Never pay full price."

"That's exactly what I try telling my roommate. She only buys the best of the best but I think she could get the same thing 50% off if she waited long enough."

"You know Taehyung's the same way. Nothing but luxury from head to toe. I'm surprised he paints in a basic t-shirt and jeans some days."

You chuckle, feeling the air light and fresh. "Painting gets messy so it's better you not wear your best and brightest clothes. Sometimes I'll just wear a giant t-shirt that already has paint stains and nothing el–"

Shit.

You cringe at how quickly you can run your mouth. Jungkook doesn't need to know your painting attire evident from his sudden frozen up form.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be. I've heard worse." Jungkook clears his throat and looks out to the view in front of you. "This really is a beautiful spot is it not?"

Thank you for the deflection, you silently say to him.

"Yes, it's the best view I've seen in my life. I can't believe you found this place. It's like seeing everything for the first time again."

.

"__."

"Hm?"

"Is it weird that I–" He stops mid-sentence, hands rubbing his thigh. "Is it weird that I brought you here?"

"Of c–"

"No wait, wait that's not what I wanted to ask." He runs his fingers through his hair again, doing his best to keep eye contact. "What would you say if someone were to ask you out?"

You relax into a tight-lipped smile and quirk your head to a slight angle. "I'd probably say no because I'm on a date with you right now."

At this Jungkook's milk slips from his hand, spilling on his pants. You grab some napkins next to you and help him wipe the spillage off.

"We're on a date?" He stands the milk upright. "This is a date?"

"Yes, it very obviously is. I don't wear this top for just anyone you know." You close your mouth instantly and sit up straight. "You weren't meant to hear the last part."

"Wait, go back. I thought this was us hanging out. Remember? At the hospital, I said–"

"C'mon the flowers, the specialty chocolates, taking me to one of your secret hideouts. Not to mention packing all this food to share. It is most definitely a date. Do you not want it to be?"

"No! I mean of course, yes. But I would have dressed a lot better." He looks down at himself, embarrassed. "I just threw these on before I left the house."

"And what else would you have worn? I see you in dress shirts and slacks twice a week at the school, if not more."

"Oh, I guess you have a point." He lets out a sigh. "To be honest __. We don't have the most proper relationship for that kind of thing, do we? It's annoying that I keep saying it but I am still your professor until the end of this semester at least. Us dating would be kind of a breach of contract."

"So you won't call this a date because you think it's forbidden?" You cross your arms.

"Well not entirely. It's just...I'm scared. There it is. And if we plan to do any sneaking around business I need to know you...shit, this is going to sound so middle school of me...I need to know you're interested in me __."

"For fucksake Jungkook, I wouldn't have agreed to come if I wasn't interested." You move closer to his side so you're inches from his face. "You're the kindest person I've ever known and I'd like to know you more like you've been doing for me the past two weeks. You've gone out of your way so many times for me that I seriously can't keep up. And while I can't say that I'm in love with you since it's much too soon, I've become very attracted to you. It just sucks we're in a bit of an odd position with school and all. But we can make this work. I'm also in post-grad so I don't think we're doing anything that risky."

"What about Taehyung?"

"That's all you got out of what I just said?"

"Sorry, I'm just asking because you seemed into him at the art exhibit. You're both artistic after all." He fiddles with his fingers. "I'm just the guy who you got stuck with this year because you couldn't major in art."

You feel compelled to take one of his restless hands in your own, so you do–holding it loosely.

"Kim Taehyung was simply a visual interest," you say. "I never thought about anything serious with him. He's also faculty so unless he saves my life or something, I'm not really considering anything beyond a friendly report."

A moment of silence is exchanged as Jungkook lets your response sink in. And as long as your eyes aren't fooling you, you'd say he's more than pleased with it.

"So...you really wanna do this?" Jungkook asks with more anticipation than nervousness this time.

"Yes." You nod.

"Wow, okay um, well when do you want to go out?" He kicks his feet back and forth. And when he reflexively squeezes your hand you can't help but grin at his eagerness. "I'm free every weekend if that works for you."

"We should probably get to the end of this date first Dr. Jeon."

"Nooo, I like Jungkook. Can we stay with Jungkook when it's just you and me? Also, this isn't a date. We need a do-over."

You laugh, seeing a new side of him. He's more, hm, whiny than you thought–it's cute.

"Jungkook, we don't need a do-over. This can be a date if we want it to be. It's got all the elements already. Look." You lift his hand in yours. "We're already holding hands.

"Nope. When are you free?"

"How about this coming Friday after 4pm? Is that too far out?"

He shakes his head fervently. "It works perfectly for me. Let's do 4:01pm." Your baffled expression causes his own eyebrows to knit together. "What? You can't do 4:01?"

"I–yeah sure I can but I didn't expect you to suggest a time so soon."

"Well, you said you'd be free after 4pm right?"

You nod.

"Then it's a date!"

He smiles wide and you do the same.

Present

"Kook, grab us a cart. You won't believe what's on sale!" You stuff about five gold-foiled boxes under your arm. The yellow tag next to the price says 75% off which means you are for sure buying at least ten of these.

It's times like these that your husband enjoys watching you most. You can barely reach the self where the clearance chocolate is, nevertheless, you're on your tip-toes with arms fully extended above your head to grab at every box of sweets you can.

His inner hero wants to help but he's learned early on not to get in the middle of you and your favorite snack. It's better he listens to your request to get a cart instead.

"Don't hurt yourself in the five minutes I'm gone okay honey?"

"Mhm," you mumble, not really paying attention. "Kook this chocolate has caramel and orange inside. Oh my god, look." You show him a box of chocolates with cherry filling. "These are to die for. I need like six of these."

"Here give me some of those." Jungkook takes the boxes of chocolates from your arm when he sees them slipping from your hold. "I'll put these in a cart while you keep digging. But if someone else comes along, let them have at least one this time."

He knows how much of a little hog you can get with your candy.

"Are you kidding? Finders keepers." You reach for another box, the ones in the back are always the best.

"__."

"What? I'm doing all the hard work here which means I get to keep all the chocolate."

"Fine, fine. Be sure to check the expiration date too." Jungkook turns around to stalk toward the front of the store. If he doesn't get his butt to a cart soon, his wife is going to turn into a grizzly bear.

A very cute grizzly bear.

But a grizzly bear nonetheless.

"Did we really need thirty boxes of these?" Jungkook dumps the grocery bags on your kitchen counter. "I love you but this is insane. Who's going to eat all of this chocolate?"

"Well, I was planning on sending the twins home with some." You rummage through the bag then move to stack them in the pantry. "They'll be here in an hour so it can be a surprise from us."

"Yoongi's twins? You're going to send the two children whose father is a dentist a whopping bag of chocolate?" Jungkook hands you another box to put in the pantry. The little assembly line works well when putting groceries away.

"I'm only giving them one box okay? So Yoongi can shove it."

You hear a snickering behind you.

"Honey don't push the man who could likely yank all your teeth out of your head and end with, 'will that be all?'"

You roll your eyes. "Yoongi doesn't scare me like he scares you. But if you're so worried I will get his permission ahead of time."

Jungkook's mouth opens in response until he feels a slight vibration in his pant pocket. When he takes it out to check his initial good mood drops about ten degrees.

"Kook?" You watch as he reads whatever it is on his phone.

"Nothing." He switches off the device and places it face-down on the counter. "It's just dad."

"Something about your mom I'm presuming?"

Being Saturday, it's been a few days since Jungkook had his fallout with his mother. They were originally planning to stay in town until Friday but left Thursday morning instead due to Mrs. Jeon feeling "unwanted".

Your husband's been in close contact with his father ever since.

"Yeah," Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh. "She's journaling again apparently. It's what she does to cope with frustrations like me."

"I'm sorry Kook." You rub his arm soothingly. "Maybe she needs some time to think about everything that's happened. I know you want her to talk to you but maybe it's not all bad that she's jotting things down first."

"Yeah, maybe." He takes your hand and presses a light kiss against the back of your knuckles. "It's whatever though, Mom can have her fit. I'm not going to let her ruin one of the only free days I get with my wife."

You smile and quickly peck his soft lips–something Jungkook wishes would be longer.

"Love you," you say and return to your original task of putting groceries away.

 "Listen to me you two gremlins," Yoongi says on a bent knee. "Eomma and I will be back by 8pm. Until then your uncle Jungkook and Aunt __ are in charge. You know the rules, no jumping around on the sofas, don't into Aunt __'s paints, stay out of Uncle Jungkook's office, and under no condition are you to get into sweets."

He flicks his eyes to you for a brief moment then sets them back on the two seven-year-old girls in front of him. They look adorable with their matching space buns.

"But Appa–"

"No Eun-ji."

"Can't I just have one? Pleaseee?" She stares up at Yoongi with large eyes, hands clasped together. His second daughter Ari quickly does the same.

"We promise we'll brush our teeth right after."

Yoongi's face remains unmoved at his twin's relentless need for chocolate. Sure, he may be the one more likely to cave to requests when it comes between him and his wife but sweets were definitely off the table. His girls just got their teeth cleaned a couple days ago too, cavity-free, and he intends to keep it that way.

"Did you even bring your toothbrushes?" He knows for a fact they did not being that they weren't staying the night.

The twins exchange looks before breaking into a goofy grin. Mrs. Min leans down next to her husband at the moment and draws her girls into a hug.

"Appa and I will bring you back something better than chocolate tonight, okay?" She kisses her daughter's cheeks and then stands up. "Be good."

"K..." The twins let out a small huff then turn to set their backpacks on the living room couch.

"Hey," Yoongi calls after them. "Where's my hug?"

You let out a snort when you see Eun-ji face her dad again, tongue sticking out. Her sister gives a similar attitude with her hands on her hips and scrunched-up face. These girls might be in elementary school now but boy, those teenage years are sure to be rocking.

"Turn." You hear Ari from across the living room. She's standing on the sofa with her small hands holding a chunk of your husband's hair.

"Like this?"

"No the other side."

With his legs crossed on the floor, Jungkook shifts his head toward your direction with widened eyes. At this point, most of his hair has been pulled back into tight braids and finished off with yellow and pink hair clips. The only section left to do now was the underside.

"How do I look?" he asks you.

"Oh, you look breathtaking honey." You feel a soft makeup brush swipe across your cheek, courtesy of Eun-ji who's decided you needed a 'makeover'. You're not sure if that means a seven year old cramped on your style or what, but either way, you're getting bronze cheeks and glittery eyeshadow.

It's only been half an hour and the twins were already making you and your husband do their utmost bidding.

"Ari honey," you coo. "You should become a hairstylist when you grow up. You're doing such a good job with Uncle Jungkook's hair."

"I know," she sasses. "I'm good at this stuff Auntie. Everyone says that I am the queen of doing hair."

You and Jungkook giggle from the small child's gumption. It's good she's confident, you mouth to your husband.

He nods back. "Eun-ji's doing a great job too. You should see the glitter she's chosen for you."

"Not yet Uncle Jungkook," Eun-ji pipes up. "She can't look yet. It's a surprise!"

"Ah okay." He throws you playful eyes, eyebrows bouncing up and down suggestively. "A surprise huh?"

You flutter your eyes closed when you see Eun-ji dab her palette and reach forward to paint the eyeshadow over your lids. "Yup." she nods her head. "I'm giving Auntie the best color ever."

"Wow I can't wait to see honey," you say. "This wouldn't happen to be your favorite color would it?"

The tease in your tone makes Eun-ji grin. Of course, you can't see it but Jungkook can and it causes him to break out into a boisterous chuckle.

"You're so cute Eun-ji," he says, clapping his hands together.

"What about me?" It's Ari's sassiness making a comeback as she pushes the final yellow clip into Jungkook's hair.

"You're cute too Ari." You reassure the child and open your lids once Eun-ji gives you the okay. Not a second following that you're thrusted forward a hand-held mirror.

"What do you think?"

You glance at yourself in the reflection, blush blue eyeshadow that covers up to your eyebrows and bronze blush. You have ruby red lipstick on as well, Eun-ji's personal favorite.

"I love it, sweetheart. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." She gathers all the makeup containers and tools she can fit in her hands before making her way to your husband. "You're turn Jungkook."

"Okay, but can I pick what color this time?" Your husband smiles at the child with mirthful eyes.

"No." She sets the make-up in front of him and pops open a bright, Barbie pink lipstick.

"Anti-ti-ti-ti fragile, fragile!"

You watch from the kitchen as the twins jump around in the living room. After your makeover, the girls felt like a karaoke session was in order. They convinced Jungkook to join them so there he is with a microphone in his hand, belting the lyric of 'Antifragile' by LE SSERAFIM.

"Come on __!" Ari calls to you, breath heavy from all the rambunctious dancing. "Sing with us!"

You laugh and whisk the bowl of flour and sugar in front of you. "No you guys keep going. I'm a little busy at the moment."

"Doing what?" She runs up to the kitchen island where you stand, trying to peek inside the bowl.

"I'm making cookies."

"Really?" She rushes to the other side of the island to pull out the stool from underneath. Once she settles herself in the chair she looks at you with eagerness. "Can we eat them?"

"Hmm..." You pretend to think. "Didn't your dad tell you no?"

"Yeah, but you always give us sweets. Even if he says we can't have them."

The child has a point.

"How about this, if you help me make these you can eat them. But you can't tell your dad okay?" Ari nods. "Good, you can stir this for me while I crack some eggs."

"Just what are you doing?" You jump when Jungkook walks up behind you. "You wouldn't be giving these sweet girls something their parents told them they could have, would you?"

"Dad will be really mad if he finds out," Eun-ji joins in on the scolding. She turns down the music from the tv and folds her arms.

"Well I–"

"If you're going behind Yoongi hyung's back you're going to need some help, honey." Jungkook slides one of the kitchen draws open and reaches to take out a small plastic bag. He throws out two brand new kid-size toothbrushes, orange and blue. "Had a feeling we'd need these tonight after seeing you stock up on all that chocolate today."

"Now girls..." He turns to look at Ari and Eun-ji who seem to be busy mixing the bowl of flour and sugar together. "Hey girls."

They lift their heads.

"Make sure to brush twice before your dad gets back. This stays our little secret, understand?"

"Okay," they say in unison.

"Thank you Kook." You lean your head against your husband's firm chest, resting for a moment. This whole situation is kind of funny if you think about it. But you really hope you don't get beef from Yoongi later.

"Anything for you," Jungkook quips and kisses your head gently.

"Ew..." You hear Ari say.

"No it's not," Eun-ji bites back. "It's romantic, like the movies."

Ari scrunches her face at her sister. "No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Nope."

You and Jungkook wait for the two of them to simmer down but they keep going at it. Yes, no, yes, no...back and forth until one of them scoops up a handful of the flour in the bowl and tosses it at the other.

"Uh okay, no more! No more." You and Jungkook lunge forward to sweep the bowl out of their reach.

"How about you let Auntie and Uncle finish making the cookies and you two go back to karaoke?" Jungkook successfully persuades the twins and they run back into the living room in search of the next biggest hit to jam to.

You lock eyes with Jungkook now, wordless.

"Hm?" He hums at you.

"Mm." You shrug your shoulders and move towards the fridge but not before you're flicked with some of the flour yourself–your husband's hand powdery from the mixture. "Kook!"

You wipe your face, and light laughs fall from both your lips.

"Okay girls, get brushing!" Jungkook guides the twins to the bathroom. "Your parents are going to be home in fifteen minutes and that means these teeth need to smell like nothing my fresh mint." He squeezes the toothpaste on each girl's brush.

"Bursh, brush, brush," he chants and you shake your head as you wash the cookie sheet in the kitchen sink.

The twins have eaten about three cookies each and with chocolate stains all over their faces, they're going to need more than a 2-minute teeth brushing.

"Honey, I'm cracking the windows open and lighting my candles." Jungkook rushes around the house in search of his vanilla bean scents.

"I don't think that's going to take away the smell in such a short time. We should probably just take the beating Kook," you holler back.

"Oh, we're definitely getting dragged out tonight." He yanks the candle jars open and lights them. "The smell of freshly baked cookies is still too strong to hide but I'm hoping these candles will act as a distraction."

You hit your husband with the kitchen towel, the snap of it making him throw you a startled look. "Shit–do you not see the lighter in my hand?"

You roll your eyes. "Relax drama queen, you didn't have it ignited yet. Anyway, the candles aren't necessary if we're opening all the windows."

"It'll help though."

"Not really."

"Well, I think they will."

Jungkook goes back to lighting his candles and once he has the twentieth one lit, he's thoroughly pleased with himself.

As soon as the twins finish cleaning themselves up, they help scatters them throughout the house, leaving them in as many corners with surfaces as possible.

"Okay, that's it! That's the last one." Jungkook high-fives the twins and you toss the last dish in the drying rack.

"Good job team." You laugh and join them in the living room.

Eun-ji plops herself on the sofa with her backpack in her lap. "I had a lot of fun tonight."

Ari joins her on the couch with her own backpack in hand. "Me too." She pauses and then says something that you and Jungkook were very much underprepared for.

"You would make good mom and dads."

"You think so?" Jungkook shocks you by responding first.

Ari nods. "If you had kids, we could all play together. And we can have all the cookies we want because we'll be best friends. And best friends share everything!"

"So you want Auntie and I to have kids so you can keep hiding cookies from your dad?" Jungkook lunges forward to tickle the child mercilessly. "You little cookie monster!"

Ari rolls around on the couch, giggling repeatedly. You can't help but feel the thumping of your heart as you watch the scene unfold. And for the slightest moment, you imagine what it would be like with your own child.

All those thoughts are put to an abrupt end however when the doorbell rings.

Jungkook flies to the door to let Yoongi and his wife in. He flashes you a little smile before opening it, ensuring you that whatever happens he's got your back.

"Were you guys baking in here?" Are Yoongi's first words as he and the Mrs step inside the entryway of your house.

"Um, no? No, I don't think so." Jungkook feigns ignorance. "It must be coming from our neighbor's house."

With the twins home with their parents, you and Jungkook curl up together in your bed. You nuzzle your head in his inner shoulder and his arm holds around your waist.

"Those girls are a lot," Jungkook says. "But you know, I have to agree with them this time–it was kinda fun."

"Yeah?" You aimlessly trace circles on his chest.

"Still crazy, but yeah. I felt like I had a lot of good energy inside me tonight. And you know something else?" He looks down at you.

"What?"

"We'd make pretty damn good parents."

You bolt up from your reclined position the second the words drop.

"You can't keep doing this to me Jungkook," you say, your hands gripping the soft comforter. This isn't the first time he's teased you with having a baby and every time he does, you don't know what to take it as.

Is it a joke, is he serious, or just talking?

"You know how I feel and–"

"Hey." Your husband leans up to stroke your back with warm hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry honey. I don't mean to confuse you. I really am thinking about it you know? With everything that's been going on with my parents lately, I know I've been hard to pin down but I really am serious when I say we'd make good parents. Or when I say we might have a possible baby to make one day."

"Might. Could make. Maybe." You stare straight at your husband. "I know you're warming up the idea but you're still talking in such vague terms. I'm not at all trying to rush us to decide on a baby or not. But I just don't want to get a false sense of hope...that you'll say yes."

"Come here." He draws you into an embrace and kisses your cheeks, both of them. "I'm sorry for being an idiot. I admit the first few times I was more loose with what I was saying than I should have been. But I swear I, it was never my intention to be leaving you guessing. I'm so sorry."

"I just want to know what you really think Kook. So I can be sure where you're at through this whole thing. The last few days have thrown a wrench at us with all the stuff your mom's been doing. But I'd still like to be in the loop of things."

"Yes, of course. I'm going to tell you everything right now okay?" Jungkook takes a breath. "I want to give you a baby so bad and I think I'm 70 percent there. But I'm also 60% not there because I'm terribly scared that once it happens, once we have a baby...that I'll revert back to my original mindset of not wanting one."

"Kook–"

"Hold on a second."

You close your mouth and allow him to continue.

"I've already started seeing and feeling being around kids differently than before. So much so that I think we could be happy if we started a family together because I'm so happy when I'm with you. And if there's anyone I could do that with, it'd be you and only you. So yes, I want us to have a baby, as many as you want, but I want to be 100% there first."

"Okay, that's fair. I'm not going to lie that I don't feel a little out of body from what you just said. Just to clarify, you're saying yes to how many babies?" You shine your eyes at him. "You said you want to give me as many babies as I want right? How many would that be?"

"My limit is yet to be determined." He grins at you. "It seems I might need to repeat some things if all you got out of what I just said is that I'll give you as many babies as you want."

"No, actually." You grip his hand. "I heard what you said and thank you. I feel a lot better knowing your thought process through this whole thing. We both need to be 100 % in before deciding on this next step in our lives. And about you being worried that you'll revert back to not wanting children. I'm no expert but I don't think that'll be true given your recent exposure with kids has made you feel better than worse. You said it yourself–you had a lot of good energy inside you tonight."

"True. You make an excellent point there. I think I still need some more time though. I was even thinking that maybe I'll....talk to Hoseok about this."

"I'm glad to hear that Kook. Hoseok is an amazing man and I know talking to him about all this will be nothing but beneficial for you."

"Thank you for being patient with me." Jungkook pulls you both down on the mattress, closing his eyes when his head hits the pillow.

"Same to you." You snuggle back into his chest. "I really hope we can have a family together."

"Me too," you hear him mumble before you close your own eyes.

A/N: Yup I told you this would be a long one. Ty for sticking with me! Also, what do you think? Was it a first date or not? LMK your thoughts 🥰

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[gojoidyll]

I was wondering...Aventurine's s/o who sometimes is misgendered as a man (fem! reader)

Any thoughts? 👀

I have many thoughts about this anon, some I would definitely like to share 🤭

Let's see, to me, if you're being misgendered and Aventurine just so happens to see it, then I can see it happening in the workplace, at the casino, or on a date.

But mostly at the workplace because lets face it, the IPC haven't exactly been painting themselves as the good guys lately 😐 and I can see a few of your coworkers being this way (be it new employees who do it by accident or stubborn old ones who are just plain rude).

"You should go ask him. He knows a lot about the subject and could help out with the project."

You weren't far away from the people who were having the conversation since you all were in the same office, and since it was such a small office housing only seven or so desks, it was easy to hear every single conversation and know who was talking about who.

"Thank you, I will!"

You didn't want to turn away from your computer despite the heavy thumps of footsteps coming up behind you. Instead, you tried to ignore it and continue typing away at your report. Your eyes heavy and focused on the computer as your fingers mercilessly hit the innocent keys.

"Sir? Excuse me, sir?"

You resisted the urge to groan aloud. This always happens. Mainly for two reasons. One, the stubborn fool who keeps misgendering you refuses to acknowledge that you're a woman. And two, the same stubborn fool insists to new employees of the IPC that you're a man and should be referred to as such.

And with a final tap on your shoulder, you sighed. Your feet planted on the ground as you swiveled your chair around.

"That's ma'am to you."

The new recruit was quick to fumble and bowed, "I'm sorry, ma'am! I was told that you could help me with- blah blah blah blah blah," you couldn't care about what he was saying. Not when your alarm went off, signaling your lunch break.

"Sounds interesting newbie, but if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lunch."

You didn't let the new employee get another word in as you got up and did a little stretch before walking out of the office while also being sure to ignore the smug looking bastard who waved at you while you left. Working in such a place exhausted you, and you hoped to hide your tiredness when you met up with the one person who made it all worth it. But...he noticed immediately the moment you sat down in his comfy couch in his own personal office.

He was already beside you when you sat down, and instead of grabbing his own food, his mesmerizing eyes bore into you.

"What's wrong?"

His voice always sounded tender when he talked with you, especially when he knows you've been having a bad day. He doesn't use his condescending voice or the voice he finely tunes to get people to like him. He is just ... being himself. Granted it's behind closed doors, but you were thankful that he didn't wear his bluff around you.

"It's...," to be honest, you've been dealing with this coworker for a long whilen now, and even though it's hurts being called something you're not, you thought you could handle it yourself. Though, lately, it's just been getting harder, "it's just this coworker of mine. He ... he keeps misgendering me. I know it sounds stupid and that I'm probably just being too sensitive but..."

"Name."

"Huh?"

"The name, give me the name of this coworker of yours," Aventurine said smoothly as he leaned into you, his arm slung around your shoulders as his fingers lightly twirled a strand of your hair between his fingertips. His warmth immediately engulfed you into a comforting embrace that you couldn't help but lean into. Despite being such a calculating person, he always had a way of disarming you and making you feel safe.

"Aven... it's nothing. I just, I just need to vent a little is all."

"Venting is great and all, but that doesn't solve the problem. Besides, who told you that you're being too sensitive anyway? Being hurt over something isn't something to be ashamed of. So, the name. Give it to me, and i can make it all better. Promise."

His tone held that usually lilt in his voice that scratched your ears just right. Honestly, he could be telling you the nightmares within a black hole, and you would be putty in his hands.

And so, with little resistance, you relinquished the name of the stubborn coworker who keeps giving you trouble. Granted, you did worry that you were getting special privileges since your boyfriend was in a higher station than you, but don't worry about that. You are Aventurine's significant other after all, there is nothing wrong with relying on him every once and awhile. ;)

[heartofbusan]

My live reactions of AYS's final (for now 😌) episode 💛💜

-----

Jimin really had a lot of input on the itineraries and restaurants. He should get a producing credit 🤧 : 'Keeper of JK's every want, need and desire in the form of food, accommodation and more 👀': Park Jimin

OH MY BABY Like Crazyyyy!!

They really are the top singers in Korea lmao. You sometimes forget it, with how normally weird they are.

The owners of the restaurant must have been thrilled to have them. #Blessed

The boyfriend shot!?!?!? YOUR HONOR! HE DID NOT deny nor refute the outright allegation!!

Jungkook enjoys life to the fullest.

Also, Jk loves beer.

ESCUSE ME?!?!?!?

THEY GET FLIRTY WHEN DRUNK. DRUNK SHENANIGANS HAVE HAPPENED. I AM SURE OF IT.

Jungkook is such a good boy. You tell him to do something, and he does it. #obedient

JK's stomach makes all his life's decisions.

This hot tub scene is going to end me as a functioning member of society. WHAT THE HELLLLLLLLL

THIS SURE IS NICE

THIGHS. NO NOTES.

COME ON BABY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!? WHAAST

Jimin doesn’t want to extend JKs suffering. So sweet!!

"That’s my Jungkook." Omg

"HONEY"

WTF IS HAPPENING, SHOULD I LEAVE THE ROOM

Baby reference no. 4852820 and counting.

-The more relaxed they are, the more they forget they're being filmed. The touches increase, and the fawning commences. Also, Jimin watching himself and seeing how he's presenting himself for the show is such an interesting occurrence. There's an interesting thought happening there as he becomes aware of it... Is he seeing and becoming aware of his layer of veneer as they were filming? He scaled it back for sure. He let more of his acute feelings through as the seasons progressed. I love that it became less like work for him.

-They are idiots! And I love them for it! The Jeon Park household is filled with laughter. And grunting ofc. Don't forget the copious amounts of grunting. I'm watching this at work and by God if someone walks in on me listening to this...I'll get called into HR 😃 #worthit

ONGOD JIMIN ON THE FLOOR LEGS SPREAD WHO APPROVED THIS MESSAGE?!?!

Also: Jungkook loves cooking. Whomever is making fun of him for choosing to be in the kitchen is an idiot. Please always be happy JK!

Precedent. This show is setting it. Remember it well.

You realize that they have the means to travel like this all the time?!?! But they chose to take us with them? WE ARE BLESSED.

Jimin always finds a moment to connect, physically as well as emotionally. He'll never leave his man hanging on a joke.

BUT JUNGKOOK IS RIGHT THERE WITH HIM ON THE EQ SCALE..He sees Jimin fully, and he treats him gently and with tender care. Knowing Jimin is quiet because the trip is nearing its end😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

They deserve to live their lives without serving us. Without feeling like they need to show us, just because it makes us happy to see them happy. Then again, if this is them normalizing them as a unit and seeing them together, and if it serves them just as much as it does us. Well then I hope they keep up this exceptional excuse to make content. The hate will always be there. The shippers too.

But what will never change is the commitment they have towards each other. They really do complete one another *bawling*

I loved this episode! It was so relaxed and paired back. They really are a give and take couple, giving each other space, patience or attention. Really, they should get married. It's just too perfect a union.

[merakiui]

OOOOOOO ur cooking mera 👀

All that disgust riddle feels is just thinly veiled sexual tension!! God help if criminal reader committed a crime of passion because riddle is going to learn how to love in all the wrong ways.

I like the thought of reader catching on to sweet riddles train of thought and slowly injecting more innuendos into her letters. How the food is so hard in her mouth and hot to eat that she's panting afterwards. The clothes are so constricting it feels like being tied up (she has intuition he has a bondage kink) and most of all how so very lonely she is. She's not stopping even after all the letters she receives are stained with musty droplets, the salt on the paper isnt tears.

Reader doesn't care that she's stringing him along. After all he writes on the finest stationary, is enrolled in a top university and refers to his parents as 'mother and father'. He reeks of money and she needs to make bail. A girl's gotta do what a girls gotta do 🤷‍♀️

AAAAAAA ANON!!!!! THIS IS SO YUM!!!! OTL

Darling using every trick in the book to charm Riddle into getting her out of jail,,,,, that's so good!! And of course he falls for it because he doesn't know what real romance is. His parents are an abysmal example of that, and he's never truly been in love himself. When you send back letters with the sweetest, most flowery of words, he thinks it's genuine. At first, going into the project, he was wary because you're a criminal and so he expects you to lie and twist the narrative whenever he sends interview questions. But now his suspicions are clouded over by these complex feelings he's never known before.

If anyone were to peek into his dorm room and see all of the letters he's posted to his cork board, they'd think he was taking this assignment a little too seriously. It's obsessive, the way Riddle clings to your words. He's done so much research, filled an entire notebook with details and information, scoured every reputable source that's covered your story. He knows your entire life's story like the back of his hand; he can list all kinds of facts about you. If anyone asks why he knows so much or why he even cares, he just tells them he must do so if he's to hand in a perfect journalistic report worthy of full marks to the professor. Although it may be difficult to stay completely objective when he's in this deep...

It's immensely ironic that he, a law student, has become so obsessed with an actual criminal, so much so that he's looking at the amount set for your bail and truly considering.

[yuurei20]

Strange question but!! Yk how the villains are treated as heroes? How on earth did the heroes stories work if they, uh, yk, dont have the villains? Like i briefly remember TWST!Jafar hijacking Aladdin’s plan to fake being a prince, so theres not rlly any more “aladdin” story, but im curious how other stories went if u know! Are the OG heroes still treated as heroes, etc etc, that fun stuff

Hello hello! Thank you so much for this question!!

The different interpretations of history that seem exist in Twst are fascinating, and one of my favorite things is the part in Book 6 where Lilia seems to insinuate that the Disney stories that we know might not actually be what really happened, because history is written by the victors:

These "classic" stories--were they, too, twisted to suit an agenda? Is the truth closer to what is taught as history in Twst, or is it somewhere in the middle? It is so interesting to think about!

For the most part it seems that the heroes from the stories we know are not turned into villains in Twst, and the deeds that are attributed to them were actually done by multiple characters from different folklore:

For example, Harveston has stories about miners and customs based on "a young lady who made a wish at a well," a "traveler" who cleaned a stranger's home and then a tale about "some princess who wished to fall in love right away," as if the young lady, princess and traveler are three separate people.

While basing their traditions on the miners, the lady and traveler, they also deify the Fairest Queen, as if they are all independent individuals with no overlap.

One of the more interesting parts of the Fairest Queen's history, in particular, is that there is actually a "dastardly villain" in Harveston folklore that stalks a woman who is then saved by forest creatures.

The huntsman is--just like the queen--not a villain in the Twst universe. Who was who, and what really happened? 👀

For the Scalding Sands, it seems that the unnamed princess and the sultan from local stories are just as revered as the Sorcerer of the Sands himself, with the sultan known to be the person who named the Sorcerer as his vizier and retaining their connection from the story we know.

Much like in Harveston, the history of the Scalding Sands seems to attribute what we believe to be the history of just one character to multiple individuals: Kalim talks about the Sorcerer saving his country from a street rat, who was a swindler/charlatan/usurper who tried to trick the sultan and princess, in a rare case of a "hero" being vilified.

But they also have folklore about "a poor but kind-hearted young man" who shared his food with children, and whose marriage to the beautiful princess they celebrate every year with a festival.

Whereas the Disney movies make the charlatan and the kind man into one person, in Twst's history it seems they were two different people.

Diasomnia is very big on the Thorn Fairy, and they also talk about the human king who feared her, the princess whose birthday she was not invited to (Silver: "Was their king raised in a barn?") and the three presents that the princess received.

Lilia talks about a trio of fairies that were not able to break the Thorn Fairy's curses and also put an entire kingdom to sleep, while Silver comments on how Lilia is consciously, intentionally emulating the three fairies from that tale with his cooking.

Silver and Malleus discuss "some faeries" raising a child for 16 years without magic, but they do not seem to know why they did so, and it is unclear if they believe that those faeries and the three faeries that put the kingdom to sleep are the same or different people.

Heartslabyul seems to separate Alice into two different characters as well, referring to a 1-km-tall giant that the Queen of Hearts tried in court and a child that got lost in the castle as if they were two people.

The only reference we get of the "heroes" of the Lion King tale are Jack referring to the King of Beast's "rascal of a nephew" and Leona mentioning that he deposed his brother "to build a better, wiser kingdom."

While the characters seem similar to the stories we know it's possible that the timelines are slightly different, with the rebirth of the pridelands being attributed to the King of Beasts himself rather than his nephew.

The history of the Sea Witch in Twst might be the most fascinating: the characters reference the Sea Witch taking someone's voice for a contract and making a shapeshifting potion to facilitate love between a mermaid and a human, but also turning herself into a human and being proposed to by a prince the next day, with no acknowledgement that the human from the first tale and the prince from the second might have been the same person.

They also talk about the eels flipping over a boat and a mermaid princess who had trouble walking on land, but there is no mention of the princess being in the boat in the eel story.

Octavinelle even acknowledges that the Sea Witch once made herself huge and sunk a ship with a whirlpool and "some even labeled her a monster," saying that she was later lauded as a compassionate figure after turning over a new leaf. (While the less-than-pleasant deeds done by the Sorcerer, the Fairest Queen and the King of Beasts in the stories that we know are never mentioned.)

Silver's tale from Halloween seems to be an exception to this rule. Everything done by the "hero" in the tale we know is still attributed to the hero in the story that Silver knows, and the enemy army is still the enemy army.

To the initial question: it seems that the heroes from the histories that we know are still being regarded as heroes in Twst (though they tend to get separated into multiple people), while the characters that we know as villains are also highly regarded. This sometimes includes their pasts (in the case of the Sea Witch and the Queen of Hearts), being separated from their pasts (in the case of the Hunter) or with no mention of their pasts (the King of Beasts, the Sorcerer of the Sands, the Fairest Queen, the Thorn Fairy).

(Not a lot of information about the King of the Underworld when compared to the others! Idia mostly just talks about how charismatic he was. Ortho suggests something about "the truth" about him being closer to Idia's own situation than they have been taught, but Idia is not convinced.)

Also: there is a reference to a hero rescuing his ladylove from the Underworld in Book 6, so it seems the hero in that tale remains a hero in Twst as well!

[danibee33]

The Queen’s Guard- Chapter 3: Closer

knight!simon riley x queen!reader - featuring our favorite Scot in this chapter👀

word count: 3.2k

[<<< chapter 2]

Smile. Nod. Greet. Don’t forget to give your husband a loving look from time to time- look at him like he were the sun, the great star you revolve around. Repeat.

The King’s departure feast is tasteful, though ostentatious to be sure- just how he likes. Especially when they are held in his grace’s honor. Oh, if you could roll your eyes right now without being seen, you would.

All this for such an arrogant bastard.. truly a waste.

But you can’t deny the beauty that surrounds you, no matter the reason. The Great Hall had been thoroughly lavished in emerald silks, dripping with jewels and flowers of your choosing-

It was one of the few duties you didn’t mind giving your input and opinions on, working with the different tradesmen of the kingdom; you found you rather enjoyed partaking in the planning portion, enjoyed the creative freedom given to you behind the scenes-

But.. attending them, well, that’s a different matter entirely. They were nothing but an exhaustive performance, a true test of your goodwill and patience-

“You look positively captivating tonight, wife.” The King drawls in your ear, his hand creeping up your thigh under the table. And it’s so difficult to fight the urge to jerk away from his touch when all you can think about is the last time that hand was on you, your lip had been bruised and swollen for days afterward-

Smiling down at your plate of untouched food, you give him a sweet and temperate laugh,

“You flatter me, Your Grace.”

The hand squeezes too tightly, not painfully, but certainly not gentle or loving- it’s a possessive touch, one that worries you, makes your shoulders tense and your movements turn robotic as you place your fingers over his,

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you battle-ready, My King.. it suits you.”

You exchange pleasant smiles, his eyes on you far longer than you’re used to. It does not soothe you though, or make your cheeks flush warm. No, they’re too invasive, and the feel of them on your exposed skin makes your stomach sour-

A quiet sound trickles into your ears from behind your seat, it’s one that you had learned is deliberate, purposeful- a simple series of taps, always the same, random to everyone but you. Simon’s way of communicating- I’m here. I see you.

You tilt your head toward the insignificant little noise, only just able to see the inky outline of his shoulder in your peripherals, but it’s enough. Enough to ease your nerves and calm your relentless mind.

Knowing that he’s right there, always keeping you within arms reach- but something is different now. You can feel it. And you can’t quite grasp how, or even the exact moment the already anomalous lines in your relationship had somehow become even more blurred, but they had.

And this fading of the proverbial line in the sand, the crumbling of all your boundaries, should most certainly not make you feel the way it does- should not make your core turn molten, or your head swim in a dizzying way by just the sound of his voice, his presence-

He hasn’t even touched you again since that night, after the King left your chambers, which must have been more than a month ago, you think-

Because it was a fluke, it was the man sworn to protect you simply aiding you- he saw you bleeding and was the only one around to help.

But, he also didn’t retreat.

No, you noticed the very next morning how Simon stood just a step or two closer than he did before, following behind you like your omnipresent shadow, the sinister black armor becoming well known in the castle.

Unsurprisingly, he had garnered quite a reputation within court by merely existing at your side, speculation about his history running rampant- and you only recently heard from your lady-in-waiting that many commoners, and noble folk alike, had taken to referring to your new guard as “The Ghost”-

And oh, how fitting of a name- because you feel truly haunted by the enigmatic man; haunted by those eyes, haunted by the softness of his touch, haunted by the yearning and desire to feel it again- No. No..

Wherever you go, your dark omen follows- and for more reasons you can’t explain or justify, you find equal parts pleasure and power in his presence. Because where Lords and Noblemen once might have dismissed you entirely; or the opposite, let their eyes linger or their tongues turn crude- they now avert their gaze, they regard you intently and with due respect; and their Queen’s guard, with fear-

Tap-tap .. Tap-tap-tap

A smirk tugs at your lips, and you hope he sees it- of course, he does, and if you were able to look back at him, you would see his own smile settle at the corners of his eyes as he watches you relax slightly.

After a moment longer, you force your attention back to the festivities, eyes widening as you hear a booming voice,

“Your Grace!”

The distantly familiar accent dredges through your memories until you’re finally able to recognize his face in the crowd- seeing none other than Lord John MacTavish, your Johnny, looking back at you.

It had been years since you last saw your closest cousin-

Well, cousin is a loose term, isn’t it? We aren’t technically related by blood- but, we had grown up together as family, and neither of us had ever seen or known each other as anything else..

Yet, despite time and distance, he looks exactly the same. Blue eyes bright and full of life, and his smile infectious as it stretches ear to ear. His dark hair is longer than you remember- but now cut extremely close to his scalp on the sides, turning the messy chocolate waves on top into an overgrown sort of mohawk-

Oh, Sweet Johnny.. never one to conform to any sort of standard-

“Lord MacTavish, it’s been too long.” You say, watching him sweep into a dramatic bow, his antics forcing you to bite back a wide grin,

“Your Majesty,” Johnny turns to the man sitting by your side, “With your permission, may I have Her Grace’s hand in a dance?”

The King watches him for a moment with utter disinterest, much like he regards most of his subjects, but eventually concedes with a nod- and you don’t hesitate to push away from your chair, your ladies rushing to straighten the flowing gown but you brush them away politely, gathering the skirts in your hands instead.

Rounding the long table, you take Johnny’s arm, letting him escort you through the crowd- and you wish more than anything in this moment you could just be another woman floating across the marble floor, you wish you could toss the crown on your head away, remove the green and gold colors of your husband’s house, the crest from around your neck-

“Still always so stuck in your head, eh, Hen?”

The dance you fall into is simple in its movements, with your palm flat against his above your heads, gliding in a slow circle as the music softly builds,

“Hard not to be- but this is helping, I must admit.” You tease, giving him a wry smile.

His head tips back with a warm laugh, and you’re instantly flooded by memories of your childhood with him- of growing up together, his ceaseless pranks and joking, of the hours you would spend scouting through the woods together, soiling all your dresses, and ruining the pretty braids the maids would put in your hair.

The trouble you got in for him was “unbecoming of the future Queen” as your mother would say, but Johnny had been your best friend- much to her and your father’s chagrin, and no amount of their preaching ever kept you away from his never ending mischief.

It was like that up until he left for the army, and while you both had tried your best to keep up through letters like you promised, after your coronation, time for anything other than your duties always seemed to escape you-

“So, how’s married life treatin’ ya, Your Majesty?”

You roll your eyes at his quip, giggling when he picks you up, your hands holding his wrists at your waist until you’re on the ground again and stepping in time with the next bit of music,

“Oh, I’m sorry, shouldn’t you be married by now, m’Lord?”

Again, he laughs, ducking under your arm before spinning you both gracefully- your back against his, though your heads turned toward each other to keep up the hushed conversation,

“Glad to see your tongue is still made o’ thorns, Grianach.”

His old nickname for you stirs up a sadness that feels overwhelming, almost tangible, and the sting of tears prick at your eyes as you turn back to face him- knowing the dance would too quickly be coming to an end.

It’s during the last, slow spin that you catch Simon’s gaze- watching you from just beyond the edge of the crowd, eyes raking over your body until he sees the turmoil in your expression. And it’s like your pinned beneath him with the weight it carries, holding the fleeting contact even from a distance,

“Sunny?”

You blink once, realizing the music has easily flowed into the next tune, something slower, more somber- and when you blink again, Simon’s moved, and you struggle to not immediately look around for his familiar form, seeking the comfort he unwittingly provides you.

“Ah.. Tha’ the new Queen’s Guard I’ve heard so much about?”

Johnny offers his arm again, looking down at you with a lop-sided smirk,

“It is. And, what of it?” You ask innocently enough, finally spotting him standing a head above the rest, stoically taking his spot behind your chair- eyes roaming over Johnny’s face, still sizing this unfamiliar man up, watching how comfortable you seem with him. He misses nothing-

“Not really your style, is all.. The big, gloomy bastard doesn’t seem like he fits for my li’ bit o’ sunshine.”

How could you tell him that his sweet nickname, Grianach, Sunny, was what actually didn’t fit you anymore?

But you suppose if he stays around long enough, he’ll surely realize you relate more to the dark side of the moon than you did the sun these days..

“He’s been a good guard.. better than any I’ve had.”

Johnny nods, watching the man in question as you approach the giant table,

“Good, tha’s good, Sunny.. you deserve the best, always have.”

You don’t know why his words take you by surprise, why they make your feet feel like lead in your shoes-

“Will you be staying, Johnny?” You speak lowly, not wanting to let go of him, not when he’s the closest thing you’ve had to home in so, so long,

“Aye.. a week is all I can spare, but I’ll be here with ya, all right?”

All you can give is a weak nod before he bows for the King, kissing your cheek and bowing in front of you, as well. And those usually vibrant eyes dull a bit when he sees your apprehension- but he smiles anyway, backing down the steps and disappearing into the crowd once more.

And you do your best to plaster a warm grin on your face as you move to take your seat again, brushing past Simon, you lean down, speaking only in the King’s ear,

“I’ve grown tired-“

He waves his hand at you before you’ve even finished speaking, focused on one of his advisors- the conversation of his imminent travel far more important than anything you might have to say.

Well, haven’t the gods granted me luck tonight..

Your exit is a quiet affair, and as soon as you’re out of the Great Hall, you feel some of the tension melt away- the further you get from the raucous, the easier it is to breathe, the weight easing itself off your shoulders with every step.

“Go ahead and ready my chambers, please, Elia. I’d like to take the air.”

She goes without question, your other handmaids flitting right behind her as you take the next hallway to your right- the one that leads towards the courtyard and the gardens.

You can hear him behind you, those long, steady steps contrasting your shorter ones. Neither of you speak, but you feel his proximity intensely- always so frighteningly aware of him when you’re alone.

And it’s enough to drive you mad, how much he affects you. Because you’re so certain he feels nothing, being in your presence is his duty. He’s a man who has seen too much, experienced too much, to let the likes of you get under his skin-

The guards bow their heads graciously as they push the solid wood out of the way for you to pass through; and it’s as if the night air were a salve for your restless soul- fresh and perfectly chilled, the whispers of fall in the breeze. Just enough to get you out of your head, if only for a moment.

“Ser Simon..”

You walking slowly, your steps languid as your fingers brush over the leaves and petals, absently studying the textures as they feel under the moonlight-

“People keep asking if I like my new guard..” You ramble, moving beyond the entrance of the tall, maze-like hedges, leading you both deeper as you speak,

“But, I don’t think I’ve asked the same of you..”

Don’t.. don’t do this. Just turn around- go back to your rooms. This is petty and useless, nothing but disappointment can come of it..

“Not sure I follow, Your Grace.”

A chill creeps down your spine at the rasp in his voice, from the cold or disuse, you’re not sure. You turn with a saccharine smile, though it quickly falls away as you take him in-

He’s so entirely otherworldly like this, cast in the milky light from above, the shimmering onyx of his armor almost glowing under the pale moon- and when he shifts his weight, the light dances around him, like it simply chooses to bend and move at his will.

Beautiful.. Can monsters be beautiful?

You turn away again, unable to stand it for a moment longer. This was indeed a mistake, you should not be here.

Alone. With him-

“Do you like it?” You ask the hedge, your voice soft now, your confidence having waned, “Your new post..”

Is it seconds that pass? It can’t be minutes.. surely- but gods, it feels like an eternity. The silence stretches on around you- infinitesimal in its reach.

See? That’s enough of an answer to a silly, foolish question. Like he really has a choice in the matter of liking or disliking-

You just barely feel him before you hear him- but how? How had you not heard him move before? Maybe you were right from the very beginning- he is no man; maybe the rumors are true, and he really is a ghost.

He isn’t touching you, but you think if you took even half a step back you would be able to feel the cold steel of his breastplate.

You keep your eyes focused ahead, the dark not really a hindrance because you aren’t truly seeing anymore, so consumed by him that hardly anything else seems important- that is, until something heavy is placed in your hand.

The weight of it is awkward, and you bring your other hand to hold the object before looking down.

His helmet.

It stares back at you, devoid of the warmth you usually find there, without his amber eyes, the black metal is just that- cold, and harsh.

You have every opportunity to turn, to finally gaze upon the face that you had pondered on far too often- to confirm the features you imagined late in the night.

But, you don’t. You wouldn’t, not with the trust he had very literally placed in your hands- you don’t want to betray that, you don’t want to betray him.

“I do.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, his nose grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck as his head dips lower- it’s a slow, tentative movement, and once again your mind goes to war with itself-

Danger. This is dangerous- he is dangerous. If anyone were to see you like this, they would have your head and his, too- Hells, the King himself would probably volunteer to take it from your shoulders-

Yet, when you feel him nuzzle just behind your ear again, your mind quiets, body moving on its own. Just like the moonlight, you bend to him without thought- letting your head tilt to expose more of your skin, your lips parting in a shuddering breath when he inhales deeply through his nose.

A growl resonates from his throat, it’s fleeting, but it ignites an ache so deep between your legs it nearly takes your breath away-

“And, have I served you well, My Queen?”

You shake your head, your grip on his helmet turning almost painful as you struggle to stand straight.

“Why must you insist on saying it like that..”

The low chuckle that rumbles through his chest sounds so perfect in your ears, and the weight of his forehead gently dropping to rest on your shoulder makes you bite your lip-

“Like what?” He coos, and you can hear a barely concealed smile in his voice now, one that has the most delightful shiver snaking its way through your entire body.

He was giving you so much, but you so desperately wanted more. You’ve never wanted a man’s hands on you in the way you need his at this moment.

What would they feel like roaming over your body? Would his touch remain as tender as he’s handled you thus far?

The thought alone hazes your mind even further.

A small hum escapes as you allow yourself to spare a glance at the deep ebony locks you can see now-

Hm.. do ghosts have hair? And are they suppose to feel so warm..

The thought brings a sad smile to your lips, your cheek settling against the side of his head, and your eyes slipping shut; you relish in the feel of his hair on your skin- but, it’s that very same feeling that causes you to tense, pulling away.

Because too suddenly, all you can imagine is the feeling of his soft hair in your hands, matted with blood as you hold his head in your lap- his body cold and lifeless..

No- I will be the death of him.. I can’t- I couldn’t..

He moves just as abruptly as you do, though his motions are still so gentle as he rises to his full height again,

“I apologize-“

“No..” You cut him off, turning only enough to let him take the helmet from your hands, “Please, don’t- I-“

Words fail you. And your heart sputters in your chest as embarrassment, and shame, and grief burn through you-

“I shouldn’t- I just.. We can’t.” You whisper hoarsely, your voice pathetic even in your own ears.

Strong hands turn you, and you don’t know why your eyes clamp shut, but they do- you keep them closed, breathing in through your nose, which is just another mistake because his scent is so strong now you want to wrap yourself in it. Keep it with you-

A single finger tilts your chin up, a silent command to open your eyes, to look at him.

He’s covered again, but his gaze is so open as he looks down at you- studying you in that way that only he can, though it’s impossible to miss the unrest behind his expression,

“I know..”

[chapter 4 >>>>]

[creepy-friday]

Ok ok hear me out 👀

What if, instead of fem! Proxy, we got a fem! Human maid 👀👀👀

Like the Slenderman chose her to take care of the mansions needs such as: cleanliness, general functioning (like electrical management, house repair, etc...), food management, etc...

But she isn't a demon nor proxy, but a human dragged into this life (The Operator is a cruel silly guy)

The Proxies have to watch over her so other residents don't mess with her, and also so she doesn't run away.

THE POWER DYNAMIC WOULD BE THROUGH THE ROOF 😭

YOU'RE BACK<3 this prompt is interesting ngl👀👀 I included more characters for the spice

Creepypasta x Maid!Reader

Characters Included: Proxy focused

Warnings: suggestive/NSFW themes,non-con/dub-con mentions,violence,misogyny,drugs and mental illness references

The difference between the power dynamics between you and the other residents are catastrophically huge

Once Slenderman took you in,he made sure that you understand what your role is from the start.It was a cruel time for him to make the decision to bring an innocent human in a manor full of deranged people,but in his mind he took the right decision

The first sick people who viewed you as a fuck toy would be Masky and Jeff

Since you're in the care of proxies,you are somwhat lucky,the others would mostly keep their hands to themselves

Maybe except Ben who has no restrictions by being a literal ghost,so I can totally see him messing with you for a while

The fact that you are a maid might give the others the opportunity to discover a new kink btw

Masky would slap your ass as you clean the windows "good job,get that body moving"

He's a whiny little bitch.He would scream at you if you missed a spot,if you were late to cook dinner by a minute or if he simply needs your assistance with whatever bullshit he makes up

He even called you to prepare him a bath and harassed you in the bathroom,even threating to drown you for his sick entertainment

The way you look up to him makes his dick hard,he doesn't care if the others find gross that he gets off on the power imbalance,he feels good about it

The only good thing he does is not letting the others fuck with you it doesn't apply to Hoodie

Sure,he might threaten to punish you by letting Jeff has his way with you,but we all know his pride won't let him to let you get fucked by another man yeah,once more,it doesn't apply to Hoodie

Right after a bloody mission he would bring you to his room and make you suck him off "How's it feel to have the dirty work done?Right where you belong"

Washing the blood off of their clothes it's a nightmare.Sometimes,the white masked man would try to scare you by saying all the messed up things he did to get them this red

Toby was happy he can look after a girl ngl.After seeing how scared and lost you are,he decided to make himself your safe space

But even then,he saw you as an opportunity to break himself into,it was a selfish tought,but he really craved to be your "knight in shining armor"

He actually started to stand his ground whenever Masky would start to harass him in front of you,and even if he would get beat up and would shame retreat in his shell for a few days,this boy doesn't give up

I can see him letting you escape in the forest if you pull the right strings,but the fear of what Slenderman would do to both yourself and him made Toby to get you back crying

INSTEAD,he goes on walks with you in the forest whenever you are free,just to give you that false sense of freedom

Even if it's just your job to clean,cook and do household chores,he views them as more intimate and might get romantic feelings towards you he has no self respect

Hoodie would play a lot of mind games with you,sometimes he would make you think he's your ally,sometimes he would give the impression that he's just another wolf from the hungry pack

He actually let you run free in the forest for a few minutes and waited for you to get your hopes up until he would show up from behind and get you back

"Gothca" he said,tackling you to the ground as one of his hands rested on your waist and the other one on the back of your head "let's get you back,shall we?awwwh,don't cry now,you know I wouldn't hurt you!Now I can't say the same about the others if they knew you got this far..so let's keep this between the two of us,what do ya' say?"

The son of a bitch would also blackmail you into having sex with him so that he can "protect you" or so that "he wouldn't snitch about your plans of running away"

Even if your plans would be top tier,he would know about them and would make sure to tear them down as slow as the light in your eyes fade away

If you're feisty he wouldn't feel the need to fight with you,but would rather keep him interested into bringing you down

But if you're on the docile side he would still take it as a challenge to himself,to see in how much time he can make you his loyal puppy

The manor is huge,four floors with large windows where a lot of dust piles up,especially on the inhibited last floor where The Operator works

I can see Masky making you work naked at a busy hour of the day, just for his fucked up entertainment,throwing some nasty comments while burning cigarette buts on your soft skin

EJ would watch from a distance,mercy and guilt piling up in his chest.Altough he doesn't see you as prey,he would certainly think of you as a safe resort to call when his heats/bloodlust appears

Jane would nod her head and advert her eyes,often even asking you if you're okay,just trying to make you feel..a little cared for

Natalie would argue a lot about you with Masky,but after all she's just a resident and Tim is still a proxy at the end of the day.She can't do anything about it.

All in all,your life in the mansion would be assured to be a long one,and depending on your behaviour you can make it a less traumatizing pressuring experience

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Sooo👀 I don’t know if you’ve already done something like this before or if you’re even willing to do something like it but I’d love it if maybe Johnny kept the reader as like a “pet”, making them wear a collar or just referring to them as his pet or his bitch or somethin LOL I’m down bad for this man🫦

Pretty Little Bitch

Contains; MINORS DNI, pet play but Johnny ain't playin', degradation, humiliation, smut, consentual-turns-noncon, baby trapping

••••

You no longer knew how long you'd been locked in that dingy, dirty shed, chained to the bedpost like some sort of animal. The chain was long enough for you to just barely reach the door, but you knew better than to try to leave. Kitchen knives were within your grasp, but you were a good girl. You would never hurt your master. After all, he was the reason you were still alive.

The thick chain clanked against the floor as you scrubbed the broken tile. Fought desperately to clean cigarette burns off the couch. Used hot soapy water on the dishes to scrub away the remnants of the last soul unfortunate enough to stumble upon Black Nancy's unassuming façade of a home. 

You always did what you were told. It's why you've managed to stay alive for so long. You even managed to delude yourself into feeling joy when the doorknob rattled and your captor entered the shack. 

You sat obediently on your knees waiting by the door, your body trembling with excitement. You hadn't seen Johnny for a while now, too long. He's your only contact, the only person you've seen in the months, perhaps years, that you've been at his mercy.

So when the door opens and his dirty brown shoe squeaks against the freshly scrubbed tile, you perk up. You don't raise your eyes—you’re too well trained for that—but you can't help your excitement.

“How's my pretty pet?” He asks. Without waiting for you to respond, he continues, “I brought you something.”

He takes some browned meat from a styrofoam container and tosses it in your food bowl by the couch. 

Cooked meat! He so often forced you to eat it raw. It smelled delicious, Drayton must have cooked it, Johnny doesn't cook and his mother would rather you starve than eat her cooking. 

“Thank you, master,” you said, still with your eyes on his shoes. “May I eat?”

You hadn't eaten anything but old canned beans and potatoes since the last time Johnny came home. You were so very hungry for meat.

“One more thing first.”

Johnny took your chin and raised your eyes to meet his. He was so, so beautiful. You drank in his features—his dark eyes, his greased dark brown hair, his smirk that made your thighs clench. You swallowed hard as you gazed reverently at him. 

Johnny pulled a smooth pink leather collar from his back pocket. 

“The woman at the pet shop asked about you. She asked your name, what breed you were, if there was some special occasion I was getting the collar for.”

He leaned over and placed the collar around your neck, snapping it in place and tightening it to where you'd never be able to ignore its presence. 

“I told her my bitch had been such a good girl I'd been thinking about breeding her.”

Your heart pounded so hard you felt your pulse racing against the soft leather. 

“What do you think, sugar? Have you been a good girl? Do you deserve to be bred?” 

You licked your lips, your eyes trailing down to his crotch, where his cock strained against his blue jeans. 

“Yes, master,” you said breathily. 

“Good girl. Go on and eat, now.” He released your chin and you crawled obediently over to your food bowl. 

Johnny watched you eat, undoing his jeans and stroking himself as he enjoyed the view of your tiny skirt failing to cover your bare ass. You always wore enticing clothing, it's what Johnny wants, after all. 

But you didn't expect his shoe to nudge your legs apart, nor did you think he would fall to his knees behind you. He'd never fucked you while you ate before, and you weren't sure what he expected. But since he told you to eat, you just kept on eating. 

The head of his cock met your entrance and you whimpered, but until he told you otherwise you were going to keep doing what he'd asked. 

It's harder to concentrate when he presses into you with a groan. Your hands curl into fists, and your knees tremble. It had been so long since Johnny came home, since he took you. He's going slow, savoring the feeling of your warmth enveloping him. 

You never expected he'd want to have a baby, and wondered what changed. He never treated you as more than a dog, so maybe he was just looking for something to keep you busy? After all, there's only so much you can do chained up in his shack. 

It isn't like you would ever ask, anyway. If you're lucky and he's in a good mood, he'll let you hum, but dogs don't speak until they're told.

“You miss me?” He asks, keeping himself deep inside you but not moving. 

“Y-yes, master,” you say, and he rewards you with slow strokes that hit you in all the right places. 

“Good. Good girl. Just focus on us, baby. I missed your pretty little cunt,” he says, one hand moving to circle your clit. 

You whimper and shove your food bowl out of the way to press your forehead against the cold tile floor. Your hot breath mists on the tiles, and when Johnny picks up his pace your moans tangle with his. 

You'd always been a good girl for Johnny. You never disobeyed. He never had to punish you. He was so so proud of you. You deserve to carry his baby, don't you? Then why are you crying? Why are your tears mingling with the heat and the sweat and the lust? 

Maybe bringing a baby into the world isn't the best idea. Maybe death would be better than subjecting another human to conditions like these. Maybe your mind isn't as lost as you thought. 

Maybe you're not okay.

“Quit crying, bitch,” Johnny growls, thrusting deeper into you. But you can't stop. Your tears are now wails, your sobs rattling against the old wood boards of the shack you've been trapped in for who knows how long. 

You hear a click, and then you are pulled up from the ground by your collar, cutting off your air.

You bring one hand to your neck and dig your nails in the tiny space between your flesh and leather, trying to bring some relief, but Johnny only pulls you up harder. You yelp and turn your head, seeing Johnny holding a pink leash around his fist, his free hand digging into your hip. 

“You're gonna have my baby, bitch, I don't give a fuck if you want to,” he snarls, driving into you so hard it's painful. 

“W-why? I thought you didn’t like kids?” You choke out through your tears.

Johnny presses his fist holding the leash between your shoulder blades, forcing you to bow, your cheek smashed against the tile. “Because you're mine, and I won't be taking care of them, you will.” He leans low, and whispers in your ear, “They better not turn out a little bitch like you.”

You sob, but it doesn't matter. You hate that, even though Johnny is fucking the life out of you, you still feel some perverse level of enjoyment from his attention. 

And when he floods your womb with his seed, you can't help but follow, cumming against your captor's cock. 

You realize then that you have to get out. You have to get out before it's too late, because you won't let another human being become as broken as you are, the poor little dog who only ever wanted love and attention. 

But as Johnny pulls out and your combined orgasms leaks from you, he tugs you up by the leash.

“If you try anything, I'll stab you in the stomach first,” he promises in a low whisper. He unhooks the leash and you fall forward, curling into a shaking ball.

You hear Johnny's heavy footfalls approach the door and unlock it, light flooding in when he pulls it open. 

“Finish your food, dumb bitch. You'll be seeing a lot more of me, promise you that.” He slams the door closed behind him, and your heart shatters.

You have to get out. 

You have to, but you know you can't. After all…

You're just a dumb bitch.

[transboysokka]

tell me about autistic Zuko (modern au or canon. Like how he grew up, why it’s justified in canon, how people around him react to it/are they assholes or not) bc I’ve been thinking about him but I can’t seem to articulate all my feelings into words and you’re good at that <3

hahahaha gladly here is a smattering of Facts and Evidence, in no particular order

Fact #1: His special interest is the Avatar. That boy’s done so much research!! (I’m joking with this one and yet… 👀)

Evidence #1: His father was embarrassed of him when he was a kid. This could have been for a variety of reasons including that he’s gay but also if you are trying to raise an heir of a powerful nation, you would see a lot of autism symptoms as a weakness, especially things like awkwardness, difficulty making eye contact, etc

Evidence #2: He doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends growing up which can also be explained in different ways but a kid just following around his sister and her friends all day? sus

Evidence #3: The way he rehearses what he’s going to say to Aang at the Western Air Temple… and the awkwardness of it makes it So Much More… it’s the most really, THE autistic of scenarios. We GOTTA practice big conversations like that before they happen, we just do…

Evidence #4: He borrows from other scripts for social interaction. You know when he’s trying fo get along with everyone at the air temple and he makes tea for them and try to tell a joke? Why does he do that? Because he’s mimicking Iroh, who is probably the most outgoing person in his life, and following exactly what Iroh does to be friendly and ingratiate himself with others…

Evidence #5: Missing social cues. I can’t think of any examples off the top of my head but I think we’ve all seen it. Also “That’s rough, buddy” is something he TOTALLY stole from someone else because he had no idea what he actually was supposed to say in that situation

Fact #2: now HERE’s a guy who feels deeply but is SO bad at expressing or controlling his feelings. Remember when he was worried about the comet and instead of talking about it just ATTACKED HIS FRIENDS?? oof yeah

Important Headcanon #1: Zuko is really sensitive to texture and has ARFID, which does have a high overlap with autistic folks. This “pickiness” causes real problems for him, especially when he’s v busy being the Fire Lord…. He tends to eat the same foods a lot to sustain himself (fire flakes) and makes the same exact tea for himself every single day. He DOES like to bake and cook though, and is quite good at it, even if he won’t eat it all

Headcanon #2: Our boy’s special interests are history, dao swords, and baking

Headcanon #3: Not a fan of eye contact

Theory #1: Our boy Sokka def has that ADHD and I just don’t think it’s that common or easy for ND folks to be in a relationship with NT folks (I have no proof of this but just think about it for a sec) so therefore Zuko must be neurodivergent

This is a big ol’ mess but for a MUCH more comprehensive and comprehensible Auristic Zuko explanation, please refer to this masterpiece of a post which I just found after spending a bunch of time answering this ask lolol