#absence of playing? meet PLAYING EVERYTHING ALL AT ONCE WALL OF SOUND

[engagemythrusters]

for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, so that means to combat John Cage's 4'33, I propose a piece called 3'44, wherein every single note within range possible is played for three minutes and forty-four seconds

[jjungkooksthighs]

Her heartbeat had been so louder than a bear’s. So irregular in its rhythm that had shaken it easier than a rabbit. It is interesting, then, when it suddenly quiets and slows as she suspires breaths that had started staggered and now are measured.

More intriguing is the fact that her voice sounded too sweet. Her eyes lingered on his too long as she let her machinations mottle them. Her fucking posture was too perfect, too poised for someone on her knees between his legs.

“You. Y-you’re in…in control, master.” She had told him.

Despite how he had longed to hear those words, she said them with broken vocables of brittle assent. She’d never been an agreeable female. She wasn’t just going to start now.

“Cunning little girl, aren’t you?” He prods. “Well played. I’ll give you that.” The hand on his cock ascends once again toward his tip. “But you’ll have to do better than that if you want to distract me,” his hand descends down his shaft, “I’m well accustomed to your tricks and games you like to play.”

Impatience and frustration bite at her, and they make her expression contort. It’s only for a half of a second, but he sees it. How entertaining that her emotions ran so rampant within her after everything she’d done to him.

This was good. He wanted this. Wanted her to face her emotions and understand what she’d done to him by meeting them herself. He’d tried many ways to help her see the errs of her ways, but this? This was a newer one and gods, judging by her body language, it was working.

“P-please, sir…I’ll be good.” She’d promised under heaving breaths.

He shook his head, tone dipped in the dark of the shadows as he orders, “if you really meant that, you would have used that loose tongue of yours to lap up my spit from your lips. Again you disobey and again you act like you can do whatever the fuck you want.” His eyes dim threateningly. “I don’t like liars, female. And you are. What do I do with liars, again?”

Right.. of course he caught on. The longer his eyes stay on her, the farther she can feel her confidence slip, her breath getting shaky and staggered again. No. He was.. this was a test.. right? She pulls her slumping shoulders up again, straightening her back, desperately trying to maintain her fumbling eye contact. Despite her waning confidence, she tries to scramble together those words in her head again, desperation eating away at her as her pussy throbs with need and cries from the denial she's been offered for so long. The same denial she'd offered him. "I-. .. I-i'm not lying." her voice cracks. "..sir." she quickly adds in the title, hoping it'd work to push him towards some leniency. It simply makes him chuckle, no humor in the laugh that leaves him. "If I say you are, you are." he snarls at her in warning, his fingers now gripping the base of his cock before he lets out another purposeful growl. "Answer the fucking question, girl. What-" his hand that is on her jaw tightens in its grip, and she mewls. "-do I do with liars, pet?"

“You,” her voice cracks under the pressure of his penetrating stare and strong fingers that grip her jaw, “you punish them …master.”

She says the last word with no more than a murmur, her shyness stealing her confidence away from her as her wolf lowers its head in submission.

His own wolf lifts its chin as he sits tall above her.

He wrenches a memory forth, and she is helpless to resist being thrust into it.

She’s back in the Prisoner’s Keep where all the wrongdoers were locked away. The smell of sweat and blood assault her nostrils, the sight of the silver bars glinting against the harsh red fires crackling in the braziers and wall lamps along the stone walls.

He had come back to their den late that moon only to check on her, but she could not bear his absence from their bed and so she had pled him to bring her with him despite his warnings that what she might see might discomfort her.

This time, there were two occupants among the metallic cages.

Her alpha walked with purpose to the one holding the male with shaggy blonde hair, his legs both bent under him at unnatural angles while pain twisted his features.

“You know why I’m here, don’t you, you piece of shit?” Jungkook had spat.

The shaggy haired male had answered with a defeated nod, knowing better than to stay silent in the presence of the male who had broken both his legs. “You are here to end my suffering, are you not?”

“That depends on your little friend here,” Jungkook lifted a hand toward the other prisoner in the very last cell on the other end of the row. “He has not been responsive to any of my subordinates, and that just won’t do.” Jungkook’s arm had fallen to his side by the time he’d finished only for him to lower himself to the male’s level, his other, gloved hand reaching out to grab one of the bars and slide down with him as he continued, “You did something to him, didn’t you, you bastard? What was it?”

His voice echoed through the room, and from her place behind her alpha, all she could do was watch.

The other male had only to stare at his strangely bent legs, the bones within protruding in places that were just wrong as he gave a deflated answer, “I…I tried to steal some of your wares, Pack Alpha. I wanted to give the omega I fancy thinking it would make her like me more, but-“

“But you stole from me instead of just fucking asking me like any man with balls would.” Jungkook cuts him off. “You know, I would have given you something out of my shop without requiring any payment were it for a special occasion such as the one you just gave, but there is something I do not tolerate.” Jungkook’s nose had wrinkled as he’d tilted his head down, the shadows quick to dwell under his eyes as he roughly stated,” I do not like liars. They’re filthy and the stench of them turns my fucking nose. So, how is it that you managed to steal my most precious creation-one that I’d been working on for fucking months- that was intended for my mate?”

The shaggy haired male had not dared look at Jungkook in the eye. He’d kept his eyes trained on his warped ankle.

“Pack Alpha, please don’t hurt me-“

“Pain is temporary. Death will forever end your pitiful life. If you’d like to meet your end before the gods have willed it so, I have no qualms with doing it now.” Jungkook snapped, his fingers tapping restlessly at the silver bar. “I broke your legs. I’ll break every bone in your body before your blood stains the earth if that is what your silence means to you.”

The other male had shivered at that, and fear had forced the words out of him.

“I made the other prisoner steal it! I told him to wait until your left your forge. I told him where to find it, how to unlock the box you’d fashioned for it, and…” the male’s voice dies under the loudness of her alpha’s growl.

“Where did you tell him to hide it? And why does he not speak?” Jungkook bit the words out, his finger tapping quicker against the silver.

The other male gave a half-minded glance to his right where, on the other end of the room in his own cell, a red-haired male with skin white as snow sat with his head between his hands.

“If I tell you, will you spare me?” The shaggy-haired male questioned quietly.

Jungkook angled his head to the side, his claws pushing his fingernails out from his hands as he provoked, “You act as if you have a choice in the matter when I can simply command you to obey if I will it so. The only reason I haven’t yet is that I’m hoping you’ll give your sorry ass some kind of saving grace by your actions.”

“I must be commanded, alpha,” the male had asked him not out of challenge, but in subjugation. “I cannot bring myself to speak of what I have done without your aid.”

Jungkook had huffed exasperatingly. “You are a coward to conceal truth willingly. You cannot face what you’ve done and yet you breathe. But I will oblige you. You’ve earned that much through your pathetic screams.” Jungkook’s eyes fill with the shadows until they are darker than night. “I command you to tell me what you did with the possession of mine that you thieved from me and I command you to tell me what you did to the male you bid do your dirty work.”

Power emanates from each word, the fires blazing becoming dim under it.

The shaggy haired male had straightened, one of his eyes hazing over while he spoke as if in a trance. “I had him bury it under the trunk of the oldest elm. Then, to silence him, I cut out his tongue. I didn’t want him to tell anyone of this, and if word ever did get out, I had planned to put it all on him.”

The longer he speaks, the more that anger’s ire is stoked and fanned within him.

The darkness had parted just enough in those eyes for the icy silver of his irises to thaw through.

“You dare commit not only an act of theft, but of inflicted injury as well?” The words cut the air like hail. “You are a vile insect that I will enjoy breaking. But first, your punishment will come from the very person you so easily maimed.” Jungkook had called for one of the guards to bring the other prisoner forth, so he was.

“Give the prisoner the blade we found strapped to his belt. He can use it to do to this fucker what was done to him.” Jungkook had ordered without remorse.

The guards did as instructed, one of them producing a finely crafted blade with a curved edge and hilt of aged timber.

Jungkook hadn’t even given it a second glance before rising to unlock the door to the cell of the shaggy haired male.

The hinges had creaked in effort as it had opened, and Jungkook had stood by it only to extend his arm out toward the downed male, his words chilling as he ordered, “Take your revenge on this piece of shit. Cut his tongue from his mouth so he knows the pain of what he has caused you.”

The red-haired male had bowed his head in deference, his hands shaking around the blade. Jungkook hadn’t missed that. That’s why he’d been the one to hold the other male’s head back, his arms flailing and flinging in every direction while he’d pled for mercy.

It had taken the shadows returning to his irises once more, his voice deepening for him to demand, “I command you to shut the fuck up and be still. Take it like a fucking man, you waste of fucking air.”

The shaggy-haired male had ceased his movements, his pleas caught deep in his throat under the Alpha’s Bidding Jungkook had used a second time.

Jungkook had been the one to open the shaggy-haired male’s mouth and hold his tongue between his fingers. Jungkook had been the one who had instructed the red-haired male to do it, to rip the bastard’s tongue free.

And it had been done. All while she remained with her back stuck to the wall, her hands knotted in her skirts as she’d ogled the way that dominance became a second skin to her mate.

Gods, there was nothing more arousing than seeing him make others fall apart under their weakness and surrender to his control.

No one could hope to overpower him. He was the strongest in the pack, and no male or female could ever deny him if he willed it.

That was what it meant to be Pack Alpha. To command obedience from all and take it from none. To be unbeatable and untamable in his raw thew. To be unconquered and unmatched against any and all who would oppose him.

She had been a fool to think she could deceive him. A total, utter fool.

[joshfuckingkiszka]

『end up here - 2 - after a while』

oopsie daisy, I was on a plane yesterday, almost passed out and forgot to post. my thoughts about bna are absolutely true btw, that airports a Mess. go smashville, though!

chapter warnings: angst, fear of flying (may or may not stem from personal experience who knows), mentions of cheating, also mentions of josh’s nasty feet (love him tho)

» series masterlist

☼

For a while after your phone call, you felt like the walls were closing in on you. June’s babbling drug you out of it, and you picked her up, holding her firmly on your hip. Cradling her head against your shoulder, you decided you would simply leave it up to fate.

Fate made time move quickly, apparently. Because of your acceptance, your company had given your name to Nashville real estate agents, who were quick to call you in droves. They sent listing after listing and all of them seemed to be way too close to Sam. Finally a house that you deemed far enough away from him was put on the market. It was a quaint, three bedroom with that southern architecture you remembered so well. There were magnolia trees in the front yard and a backyard with a playset that the owners' children were too old for. Of course, June was too young, but the baby swing would do her for now.

Two weeks later, your house was completely packed up - not that it took very long - and a moving van was sitting in your driveway. Your relocation costs were completely covered, and you took advantage of the flight they’d offered, since you weren’t sure how Junebug would handle being in the car for that long. The movers were set to take off that night, and you and your daughter’s flight was early the next morning, leaving with only the barest of essentials. You decided to leave the crib in the house, opting for the bassinet your parents bought you to make the trip.

An air mattress that had been in a linen closet way before you moved in would be your bed for the night, and you dreaded it. With the pump working at a snail’s pace to fill the mattress, you ordered a pizza, eating it straight from the box because of your lack of plates. June sat on the floor of the kitchen, alongside you, and had to be stopped from eating dust bunnies one too many times. She smiled when you scolded her, and she’d never looked more like Sam. Although, Sam had never tried to eat dust - that you knew of.

Cradling her in your arms, your phone was playing Light My Love. Her smile was radiant throughout the song, and she nestled further into your chest.

“The singing, that’s your Uncle Josh, but I think you knew that already,” you told her and she giggled, “you’d love his curls, especially to pull on. That guitar player’s your Uncle Jake, he tried to teach me once, but mommy’s never been a good listener. On drums is your Uncle Danny, he’s the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. And the bass, well sweet girl, you know that’s your daddy.”

You couldn’t think of anything to say about Sam that wouldn’t bring tears, or that gut churning feeling of guilt. It didn’t really matter, because when you looked down, she was sound asleep. Snores escaped her, courtesy of the Kiszka septum. You remembered always turning Sam on his side to try stopping the obnoxious noise. The one time you’d slept on the bus with all of them, you thought you would go crazy.

The absence of a pillow and the thin blanket covering your body make an uncomfortable fit of tossing and turning. You were lucky your neighbor - who was sad to see you leave - had offered to take the two of you to the airport. It was a bit of a drive, so your early alarm clock set your unhappy mood for the day. The night before, you’d opted to simply sleep in your “airport clothes”, saving you one less thing to worry about. After applying some deodorant and making sure all of your bags were by the front door, you gently placed June in her carseat. She stirred but never woke up, just like Sam.

You’d done everything to ensure that there was no possibility of fans recognizing you. Over the last 17 months, you’d changed your hair and your style, which you didn’t hate, but didn’t enjoy either. The hoodie you wore was even dual purpose, shielding you from the cold and a potential shitstorm. It was a good decision overall, as you felt the chill of the airport, and a group of girls wearing all too familiar t-shirts. The logo was nearly blinding, whether from guilt or sadness, you weren’t sure. Still, you clutched the handle of June’s carseat a bit tighter, and she curiously looked around the new area.

The window seat was a good choice for you, and you hoped your daughter wouldn’t cause too much of a disturbance on the flight. You easily remembered the first time you flew with Sam, relaying your fears to him and he’d rubbed your knuckles and held you tightly to his side. A new chord of annoyance was struck within you when one of the girls from before sat on the other side of June. It wasn’t her fault, you knew that, but it still bothered you that she might happen to be a fan of Sam’s in particular, and recognize you.

“Oh my goodness, she’s so cute!” She gushed over the baby.

You weren’t going to be rude, so you replied with an earnest, “Thank you! It’s her first flight so I hope she won’t annoy you too much.”

“Never! I actually work with babies, so I totally get it.” You nodded and smiled, and then she asked, “So, what’s taking you to Nashville?”

“Well, the plane, I think,” you joked, and she choked with laughter. “But I got a new job. You?”

She congratulated you, explaining, “My friends and I are going to see Greta Van Fleet at this, like, one night only show they’re doing. I’m really excited!” You could tell, she was practically ready to burst.

“That sounds like fun,” you paused, “I don’t think I’ve ever listened to them.”

Her mouth gaped. “You’ve got to! Their music is, like, ethereal.” Yeah, you know.

“I mean, I’ve heard of them, sure, just never really got around to it, I guess.” You shrugged cooly, attempting your best to keep up with the lie. Sammy always said you were a terrible liar, and you hoped that wouldn’t show.

She smiled at you, “Well, there’s a first time for everything!” Oh god. She handed you one of her earbuds, and it stretched awkwardly over the carseat.

The beginning notes of ‘Heat Above’ entered your right ear, and you hoped she didn’t hear your breath hitch. She’d downloaded the music to her phone to keep up with the lack of service she would be required to keep, you learned. As ‘Lover, Leaver’ started, you instantly felt guilty. Guilty for lying to this poor girl, guilty for leaving Sam, guilty for everything. It wasn’t about you, you’d heard it live from the barricade the first time they performed it, but you imagined Sam hated playing it now.

“Me, personally, I’m a Danny girl - he’s the drummer,” she told you, as the plane slowly moved to the runway. You nodded, listening to her - frankly, precious - ramblings about your wild haired friend. Having always believed that Danny didn’t get enough recognition, you adored hearing the sweet things she had to say about him.

As she explained that her best friend was a Sammy girl, you hoped she wouldn’t notice the similarities between the baby - who seemed to be listening intently to this girl - and the bassist.

“She seems to think that his girlfriend - or maybe ex? We’re really not sure - cheated on him, but she seemed really sweet, so I don’t think so - you probably don’t care, I just realized that.” She blushed intensely, embarrassed by her gossip rantings about people you weren’t supposed to know of.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t mind. Planes make me nervous, and you’re actually helping. It’s distracting.” You were telling the truth, though, you really didn’t want to hear accusations made about you. She smiled at you again.

“I’m glad. Hey, I think we’re about to take off, do you want me to keep talking? I know most people get really nervous about take off and landing.”

“Yeah, that’d be great, actually. Thank you.”

It was clear that the band’s message of peace, love, and unity rang true in this girl. She was truly an angel in your eyes. As the plane ascended into the sky, she babbled about how successful the band had become, and while that pleased her, it also disheartened her to see so many people hating on them. You knew that feeling well, seeing how heartbroken Sam had been about people basically bullying him online.

When the aircraft reached a certain point in the sky, June began to fuss. You knew the pressure difference would bother her, and you took her out of her carseat, popping her pacifier in her mouth so she could gain some relief. The Greta fan played peek-a-boo with her in an attempt to distract her and you smiled at the giggles that came from her. Her laugh was just like her father’s, absolutely infectious. Sure, babies were all cute, but you believed your baby was far ahead of the race in that regard. Not that there was a race, but if there was, June would win.

After a two hour flight, you were forced to wait at a layover in Chicago. Luckily, that angel of a woman and her friends waited right there with you. They were all charmed by your baby, especially the one she’d pointed out as her best friend. The other two adored June, but the best friend was especially enamored with her, and you knew exactly why.

The hour passed by quickly, and soon you were all on the flight to Nashville. You and the Danny girl were sitting exactly as you had been before, and you thanked whatever higher power in the universe for it.

BNA was exactly as you remembered it, loud, crowded, and a shitty pick-up situation. You waited outside for twenty long minutes for your Uber to arrive, and said a goodbye to your newfound friends. They had given you their social media - even though you’d stopped using yours - so that you could remain in touch, and a sorrowful part of you knew that wouldn’t really happen. You knew too much about the men they fawned over, even if you claimed no knowledge of them.

Knowing that Sam left socks everywhere because he hated the sensation of anything at all on his feet, and that Josh almost never washed his feet after shows, and that Jake once almost killed Josh because he’d been joking around and broke a string on his twin’s acoustic was too much for you to pretend you had absolutely no idea about. They didn’t know enough, and you knew everything, and that wasn’t a very fair relationship.

When you arrived at your new house, the first thing you noticed was the smell of smoke. You smiled at the countless memories of Josh setting anything he could on fire, and you worrying that he might eventually become an arsonist. The fourth of July always stuck out to you, because of how excited they had all been to legally set off fireworks, although that excitement also came around New Year’s Eve.

Stepping into the house, you admired all the natural light shining through the large windows. You set June’s carseat down, immediately working to make a bottle for her. The one she’d had during the layover had knocked her out, but you knew she’d wake up soon, hungry again. When you finished, and she was still sound asleep, you began unpacking some of the boxes with a ‘Kitchen’ label.

Of course, the sound of rattling plates jolted her awake, and she began to cry for you. You shushed her and held her as you fed her. Once she’d finished, you set her back down in her carseat, not bothering to buckle it. A knock on the door pulled your attention away from the dishes you were putting in the cupboards.

Neighbors. You knew it was neighbors coming to introduce themselves, so you picked up Junebug, tossing her on your hip and walking happily to the door. When your eyes met a familiar dark brown, your stomach sank.

Jake and Josh Kiszka were standing at your door, their happy faces diluting into confusion, then realizing expressions. When they noticed the baby on your hip, they seemed to panic just as much as you.

In a moment you didn’t quite remember, you blurted out, “Don’t tell your brother!”

〚taglist〛

gvf: @doodle417​ @brokenbellz​ @gretavanfleas​ @pyrojoshy​ @greta-van-chaos​ @xserenax-13​ @hayley1623​ @kdarling1​ @autumns30 @keighoe​ @chalametpwk​ @sammysvanfeet​ @shawnsthighs​ @gretavanbitches​ 

[baroquebucky]

fool for you

bucky just wants to be with you forever

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! hope u are all well <33 pls enjoy this v fluffy one shot inspired by own post :’ ) let me know what u all think !!

You were tired, your eyelids felt heavy and you struggled to pay attention to the tv. Your head falling to the side as you drifted off, eyes shooting open when you realized you were falling asleep. You got up quickly, splashing your face with water and settling back on the couch, rubbing your eyes and focusing on the tv again.

1:57 a.m.

You checked your phone in hopes of a “five minutes away :)” text from bucky, but there was none. You yawned again and changed the channel, flipping through some channels to try to wake you up before deciding to just switch to netflix instead.

You smiled as your favorite show played, nuzzling into the blanket bucky had given you and focusing on the show. The sound of keys rattling woke you up, you hadn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.

“shit” bucky whispered as the door slammed into the wall. “sorry” bucky spoke, apologizing to the wall before dragging his suitcase as quietly as he could. He kicked off his boots and his eyes landed on you asleep on the couch.

“buck?” you mumbled, willing your eyes open. Your vision was fuzzy and you could hear the tv still playing, you moved a little, forgetting you were on the couch and slipped off the edge. You couldn’t even process that you had fallen by the time bucky caught you in his arms, smiling at you.

“hi doll” bucky smiled at you, kissing your forehead gently and easily lifting you in his arm. He turned the tv off and carried you into your shared room, gently placing you on the bed.

“what time ‘s it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and yawning, finally waking up.

“almost 3” he smiled at you softly, rummaging through his drawer and taking out a change of clothes. You nodded as he pulled out a black t shirt and some boxers, walking towards you and kissing your temple.

“I’m gonna shower doll, you can go to sleep” he assured you and you nodded, knowing full well you’d end up waiting up for him anyway.

“don’t slip” you smiled and he rolled his eyes, waving you off with a small smile on his face.

“it was one time!” He groaned before closing the door to the restroom.

You smiled to yourself as you heard the shower turn on, rolling over to your side and closing your eyes. The sleep that had been taking over you earlier was nowhere to be found. You kicked the covers off you and groaned, frowning as you stared at the ceiling. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and scrolled through Twitter for a while, waiting for bucky to finish showering so you could cuddle up to him and fall asleep.

You could feel yourself growing hungry, glancing at the time on your phone you frowned a bit, it was already 3:07 am. you drank some water and tried to fall back asleep, cuddling into your pillow and letting out a soft sigh when you finally got comfortable. Right as you were finally going to sleep bucky opened the restroom door, the sound making your eyes shoot open and heart race. 

“did I wake you?” bucky whispered, a frown on his face as he heard your heart rate quicker than usual. You shook your head with a small smile. He knew you were lying but he didn't say anything, he just threw his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and settled next to you under the covers. He threw his right arm around you, pulling you closer to him and kissing the top of your head. 

“g’night doll” he mumbled and closed his eyes, already falling asleep from how exhausted he was. 

“goodnight buck” you replied softly, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of his arm around you. It was silent, with only the sounds of the city flowing through the Brooklyn apartment. 

Then your stomach growled, causing bucky to looked at you with wide eyes and you stifled a giggle. You mumbled a ‘sorry’ before closing your eyes again, hoping it wouldn't keep growling. 

You were wrong. Your stomach was relentless, and finally you got up, slipping from Bucky grasp and scurrying into the kitchen to find something to eat. Bucky felt your absence almost immediately, he opened his eyes and frowned, getting up and making his way into the kitchen. 

“didnt mean to wake you angel” you apologized as he walked towards you. He shook his head and wrapping his arms around you, letting his chin rest onto of your head. His eyes fluttered closed as you relaxed into him, your arms snaking around his waist and leaning your head against his chest. The sound of the microwave made you pull away from him, grabbing the hot cup of Mac and cheese and setting it on the dining table, Bucky soon following you and sitting next to you. 

“now im hungry” he frowned and you laughed, giving him some of your Mac and cheese which he gratefully ate. Within minutes the small bowl of Mac and cheese was empty, the two of you still hungry.  You stared at bucky, a small smile creeping onto both of your faces. You were both thinking the same thing. 

“no we shouldn't” you shook your head and bucky agreed. 

“yeah no its almost 4 we should get to bed” he replied, you both got up, making eye contact before bursting into a fit of giggles and smiles, heading straight towards the kitchen and definitely not bed. You pulled your phone out and put on some music. 

“you were thinking about French toast right?” you asked and bucky smiled, already opening the fridge for the ingredients, you grinned and you opened the pantry to get the other things you needed. You both sang along to the music softly, swaying to the beat. 

As bucky made the mix you grabbed the bread and two plates, heating up the pan and putting some butter on it, letting it melt. You moved easily in the kitchen with bucky, ever since you had moved in together everything just seemed to work for you guys. 

As you dipped the bread into the batter before putting it in the pan. Turning to bucky and using the spatula as a microphone, singing along to some 40s song you had added for bucky. You smiled as he took the spatula from your hand, setting it down and grabbing your hands, dancing along to the song. 

Bucky had the brightest smile on his face as you followed his lead, letting him twirl you around as the song played. You looked up at him as he danced with you, meeting his light blue eyes. Your eyes met and bucky couldn't stop himself. 

“I can't wait any longer oh my god” he rushed out, letting go of you and rushing back into the bedroom, leaving you along in the kitchen. 

You frowned, did you do something wrong? You focused back on the French toast, flipping the slice so it wouldn't burn before placing it on Buckys plate. You frowned as you looked for the powdered sugar. Realizing you hadn't taken it out you turned around to get it, your back to the bedroom door. As you searched for it your mind raced, was he breaking up with you? Was he just really tired?

Meanwhile Bucky was rummaging through all his drawers, wondering where the hell he put the ring he picked out with Steve seven months ago. His heart was racing as he heard you cooking the french toast, confused as to why he left you. Finally he found the black velvet box in the back of his sock drawer, smiling as he ran back out to meet you in the kitchen. 

Bucky saw you facing the drawer, so he wasted no time sneaking up behind you and getting down on one knee silently, opening the small box to reveal the ring. 

You finally found the powdered sugar, opening it and turning around. You turned quickly, eyes immediately landing on bucky, right in front of you. 

On one knee. With a ring.

You dropped the powdered sugar, causing it to land all over you, bucky and the ring. Your hands flew to your mouth as he smiled at you brightly.

“are you joking? this is a joke right?” you questioned and bucky shook his head, still on one knee despite having powdered sugar all over his shirt. 

“y/n I love you so much, I wanna spend forever with you. Everything feels so right with you I just- its like we’re just meant to be, I can't imagine a life without you. I wanna make you happy, I wanna travel the world with you, I wanna dance in the kitchen at 3 am and make French toast at ungodly hours with you for the rest of my life” he rambled, you felt your ears burning as he continued, your mind still processing that he was actually proposing. 

“-I love how competitive you are and how excited you get over anything and everything, I just love you so much-” he cut himself off when he looked at you for the first time since he started rambling, smiling softly up at you as you looked at him, fondness in your eyes and a tear rolling down your cheek. 

“will you marry me?” he spoke, breathless. 

Never in your life have you nodded so quickly. 

“yes, of course yes” you whispered and bucky smiled, jumping to his feet as you cupped his face, crashing your lips onto his, smiling into the kiss. You pulled away with a sniffle, smiling as he took your hand and slid the ring on, he blushed at the sight of it. 

You looked at each other with a smile, kissing once more before you realizing the french toast was cold by now. You pulled away quickly, grabbing the powdered sugar bag from the floor and sprinkling some lightly on your plates. 

“sorry about all that” you laughed, motioning to the powdered sugar all over the two of you and the floor. Bucky just grinned, waving it off as the two of you ate the French toast, a smile never leaving either of your faces. Both pf you giggling as the sun came up and birds began to sing. 

Not long after you finished Bucky cleaned up your mess, you changed into one of his t shirts and slipped into bed, a smile on your face as he walked into the room, taking his shirt off and slipping out of his sweats before moving into bed next to you. 

You wasted no time as he laid on his back, moving his arm so you could rest your head on his chest. He cradled you gently as you got comfortable, kissing the top of your head once you settled in. 

“love you so much angel, can't wait until we get to spend forever together” you mumbled with a smile on your face, already drifting off to sleep. Bucky smiled at your words, letting his fingers run through your hair. 

“and I love you more than yesterday” he whispered, “but less than tomorrow.”

Bucky meant his words. He meant them with everything he was. He fell in love with you everyday. He always found himself falling deeper and deeper, but he never complained. Now could fall in love with you for the rest of his life.

[meganskane]

My Girl (dad!spencer)

masterlist

summary: spencer helps his daughter deal with her first heartbreak

word count : 1.2k

*anon requested* i hope u like it bestie 

warnings: mentions of cheating, self doubt, crying, some curse, mentions of a dead parent, and an upset dad. 

spencer reid and oc! daughter

“Evie, I’m home” Spencer's voice bounced off the walls of the small apartment. The team had been away on a case for quite some time, nearly three weeks. Ask Spencer and he’d tell you they had been gone for two weeks, four days, and a rough thirteen hours. Far too much time away from his daughter, despite his absence, something felt off in his home, he hadn’t been sure what but, he just had a hunch. They say mothers know everything but, try having a profiler as a father.

His face fell into a pout, he’d felt slightly offended not getting his usual hug and kiss from his daughter. “Monkey?” he softly called once again, hoping to get some proof of life.

He quickly laid his bag onto the ground before slowly walking around the home in search of the sixteen year old. With the hell he’s been through since working at the bau he couldn’t be too cautious. Especially with his daughter, he’d already lost you to his job and he sure as hell wouldn’t be losing her too.

“In here dad” she called. The sound of her voice caused his muscles to immediately relax. He placed his gun back in its holster before finding his way towards her bedroom. Only to see her buried under a pile of blankets, he couldn’t help but chuckle at how ridiculous she looked.

He walked farther into her room before sitting on the edge of her bed pulling the blankets away from her face, nose a vibrant shade of pink and eyes puffy. Either she had just been crying or she had the flu, seeing as it’s not flu season she had definitely been crying as of recently. Giving him a weak smile, one that didn’t quite meet her eyes. If the puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, that fake smile is what gave her up.

He sighed not quite sure how to properly approach the situation without offending his daughter there were a multitude of answers, questions, and arguments that began to boggle around his mind before he simply decided on,

“What’s up? I can tell there’s something bothering you.” he watched as her facade immediately faltered. 

“How did you know?” hesitantly asked, clearly shocked that her father seemed to figure out she was upset but, then again she knew it probably didn’t take a profiler to realize that. She was never good at keeping her emotions hidden, her face always gave it away.

“Call it father’s intuition, or that I’m just really good at my job” he smugly answered hoping to make her laugh but only receiving a dry laugh as her response. He blindly reached for her hand taking it into his own, giving it a light squeeze before giving the young girl a tight lipped smile. Praying to a god that he didn’t believe in that she would eventually open up to him so he could help her in any way he possibly could.

He sat there silently waiting for some sort of explanation as to what got her down but, he wasn’t willing to pry and irritate the situation further. Spencer respected her boundaries the same way he’d expect his own to be respected. With that, he got up to leave, “you can say it”

“I’m sorry?” he could say a lot of things. Give Spencer a topic and the man could go on for hours with the little knowledge he knows of it, he racked his mind of all the possibilities.

“That you were right. He really was a dick” she huffed, not willing to meet her father’s gaze.

Ah, there it was. The he that Evangeline had been referring to was her piece of sh– let’s just say Spencer had quite a few distasteful words to say about the young man. Normally Spencer would scowl at her for her word choice but, this wasn’t a time for him to play bad cop. He just simply needed to be her father.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Daniel broke up with me. It turns out he’s been cheating on me with Janet Turner.”

“Oh Evangeline, I’m s–” the tremble of her bottom lip caused him to freeze in his spot, there was nothing more that he wanted to do than kill the boy that dared to break his little girl’s heart. Never in a million years had Spencer thought of such vile things to do to another person.

“Daddy, what’s wrong with me?” Evangeline’s eyes welled with tears, causing Spencer's heart to break more before rushing back to her side pulling her into him. Peppering kisses on the top of her head, in some attempt to soothe her before deciding to shower the young girl with praise,

“Oh my sweet girl, I can assure you that there is absolutely nothing wrong with you”

“I want you to be proud of yourself. For walking away from a situation that I know must’ve been infuriatingly difficult for you” he continued, holding her head in both of his hands, they both stared at one other with tear filled eyes.

“and I want you to believe that you’re good enough because you are. You’re so damn amazing, Evangeline”

“Love, it’s tricky. There’s no doubt in that. I know this may be difficult to understand now but, look at this as some gift in disguise. You’re young boys and girls will come go and I promise, you’ll get that happy ever after. If there is anything you want or need me to do, tell me. Okay?”

“Can you just hold me, and uh, read to me, please?” her voice was barley audible, the thought caused his heart to swell, Spencer would do anything in his power just to see his girl smile again.

“Are you sure that you have room for me here with all those blankets?”

“You know we haven’t done this since you were 8,” he giggled as he climbed into the bed beside her pulling her into him. “any special request?”

“Great Expectations?“ and so he read, every single page that he had memorized. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been sitting there reading until a snore left his daughter’s mouth. He laughed to himself before slipping out of her bed and looking out her bedroom window. The night sky was filled with beautiful stars twinkling with light, in a way, it was like they had been saying hello.

Spencer found himself stumbling toward his bedroom, a room he hadn’t seen in weeks. A much needed sigh left his lips as he tossed himself down onto the mattress, as much as he wanted to sleep he simply couldn’t. His mind had definitely been a gift but, right now he despised it. As it seemed to be a never ending loop of old memories. All he had been thinking about the moment he saw his daughter crying (aside from thinking of ways of destroying that boy) was you.

The love of his life gone way too soon. He thought of the ways you could have handled this situation a shit ton better than he, you just had this way with words that seemed to comfort everyone. His eyes drifting over towards his nightstand, his eyes began to swell with tears for what felt like the thousandth time that night. He stared at an old photo from quite some time ago, it was Evangeline's seventh birthday. The last birthday you had spent with them. You lost your life shortly after during a nasty case. An incident he’d never forgive himself for.

But, the resemblance between the two of you was remarkable. Evangeline was a replica of you, it felt as if your presence never left, it was comforting truly, I’m no y/n but, I think I did a pretty good job today, don't you think?” maybe it was Spencer’s exhaustion, or perhaps he had finally gone crazy after all these years but, he could’ve sworn he heard your laugh. It was enough for him to believe that was your way of applauding him.

taglist: @takeyourleap-of-faith @willowrose99 @jhillio @pancake2603 @spencerreid9 @miraclesoflove @aayaissaa @spencerreid9 @spenxerslut @nomajdetective

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[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

I love ur fics ahhhh 😭💕 I saw ur requests were open so I couldn't resist. Can you do a Hanji x reader one shot where it's Hanji's and the reader's anniversary but Hanji ends up forgetting about the date they planned bc they're busy with their experiments and stuff. An argument ends up happening but Hanji feels guilty so she ends up forcing Erwin to let them have a day off where they have a date with their s/o. Maybe Levi and Erwin help too? Thank you sm sorry this is so specific!

HANGE NOOOO oml they would though

Anniversary

(Zoe Hange x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: None

Category: Fluff

Summary: Too busy with work, Hange forgets about their three year anniversary, and an argument ensues. Upset about this, they gets Levi and Erwin’s help to make it up to their s/o.

Words: 2.4K

Beams of light shone through the window—blinds doing little to stop it. The sporadic rays of the sun warmed your skin, your body stirring you awake at the detection of sunlight.

You slowly open your eyes to say good morning to your lover, but you sighed in disappointment at the empty space next to you, a small dip in the bed where they always slept.

You sit up and look at the calendar. There it was, circled in bright red ink, March 7th. Your two year anniversary of dating the scientist.

You knew of their habits; staying up late working on experiments, and waking up extra early to begin again. You understood the importance of their work, but you couldn’t help but be saddened by their frequent absences. You wished, at the very least, they could find time in their day to spend with you, especially on your anniversary of all days.

You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed and to the closet, ready to get dressed and face yet another long, busy day.

---

You knocked on the door again—the third time since you had showed up to the commander’s door. After another moment of no response, you pushed the door open wordlessly, they wouldn’t care if you walked right in anyway. It was a privilege only their lover had; being able to walk in while they were working and talk to them. It was a small gesture of affection between the two of you, but a silent one. Still, you appreciated the gesture.

You stepped into the room, and the sight of Hange hunched over the desk and too dissolved in their work to notice you ignited a twinge of sympathy in you. A single, tall candle on the desk provided what little light there was in the room, and you wondered why they hadn’t even bothered to open the blinds. How long have they been awake?

“Hange?” You chirped quietly, and you saw the scientist jump at the sound of their name, turning to face you curiously. They smiled at you the second they recognized you, a satisfied hum leaving their lips. As soon as you had walked close enough to Hange’s desk, they snaked a hand around your neck, pulling you down to plant a soft kiss to your jawline, before returning their attention to the various papers on their desk.

“Good morning, love.” They greeted quietly, and the tiredness was evident in their voice—they made no attempt to hide it.

You blushed at the affectionate greeting, and made yourself comfortable, leaning against one of the many wooden bookshelves that lined the walls of their office.

“G’morning Hange.” You yawned. You thought out your next sentence carefully before you spoke it. “What are you doing up so early? We have a relaxing day ahead of us.”

Hange bore a confused look, turning to you in unfiltered curiosity. “We do?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. How did they not plan for the date the two of you had planned?

“Yeah...” You deadpanned. “We do.”

They made no verbal response, only exasperating their confused look as if to beckon a further explanation.

“Do you not realize what today is...?” You tilted to the side, perhaps testing the waters for a prank, or a temporary lapse in memory. You waited for their head to perk up and chirp out an affirmation about the date, but they did no such thing.

“...What today is?” They echoed, clearly not understanding what you were talking about.

You sighed annoyingly, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “Our anniversary, Hange. It’s our anniversary.”

You watched their face sink in realization.

“That’s today...?” They asked meekly. It’s almost as if they could sense the incoming anger and frustration coming from you.

You groaned loudly, pulling your body away from the bookshelf and taking a few steps towards them. “Yes, Hange. It’s today.” Their face strained and they turned to look down at the stack of papers and materials on their desk, a look of ‘Oh shit’ being plastered all over their face.

“Geez, Hange!” You half shouted, causing your already exhausted partner to shrink further into their chair. “You bury yourself in your work so often, but I didn’t think you would forget our anniversary of all things! Am I seriously such a low priority to you?!”

They straightened their back suddenly, and you were reminded of how defensive they got when they felt their work was being insulted. “I have an important job, Y/N! I can’t forfeit everything to spend time with you, I have to keep working!”

You wanted nothing of their excuses, and you turned your back to them, balling up your fists as you headed towards the door, tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“Fine,” you shuddered, “If you want to spend our anniversary alone, then be my guest!”

---

“Shit,” they paced back and forth on the wooden floor, subconsciously biting their fingernails out of stress. “Shit shit shit...”

Erwin raised an eyebrow at this, watching Hange with a stern, but amused expression. “Are you done?” His voice echoed in the small office.

“Well, four eyes,” Levi spoke, using his favorite nickname for them nonchalantly, “The first step would be to not yell at her.” He answered bluntly.

Hange threw their arms up in frustration. “Yeah, well it’s too late for that!” They grumbled. “I didn’t mean to yell at them... I was just...”

“Cranky?” Levi raised an eyebrow.

They glared at Levi with a relatively displeased expression. “You didn’t have to put it that way...”

A comfortable silence passed the room, and Hange continued to pace the room nervously as Erwin and Levi silently contemplated the estranged person’s query.

“If you really want to make it up to them,” Levi piped up once again, drawing the scientist’s attention away from their thoughts and towards the black haired man sat on the table in front of them. “Then I may have an idea.”

“YES!” Hange shouted, perhaps a little too loud as the two men in the room cringed. “Uh, I mean...” They cleared their throat. “What is it, Levi?”

“Well, first, Erwin.” Levi turned his head to face the blonde man, and Erwin matched his gaze intently. “You’re going to need to give Hange the day off, first.”

Erwin turned his head to the side, folding his arms and sighing, “Use it responsibly.”

“Thank you Erwin!” They flung their arms around the man’s broad shoulders, squeezing him happily in a hug.

They let go after a few seconds, turning to face Levi with and excited expression. “What now Levi?!”

“First,” he deadpanned, “Take a nap. You look miserable.”

---

You strode down the hallways of the barracks, a stern expression still planted on your face from the day’s earlier events.

You decided to play it just like Hange, so you deliberately avoided them in hopes to get them to understand. Was it petty? A little bit. Were you just petty enough to do it anyway? Yeah.

Still, when Erwin pulled you aside out of nowhere and said he needed you urgently, you couldn’t disobey your superior. Not that you had any indication this had to do with Hange, anyway.

“Y/N.” He spoke, boring a serious expression, despite the wildly unprofessional nature of the meeting. “You’re needed somewhere.”

“Wha...” You stumbled over your words for a moment, before asking the first question that came to mind. “Me? Why not someone else?”

He dodged the question effortlessly, continuing right where he left off. “It has to be you. And you have to go alone.” He slid a paper across your desk, but you hesitated to pick it up so quickly.

“Just go to the location I’ve marked here.” He uncrossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, signifying that he had finished speaking. “You’ll understand when you get there. Go.”

You nodded fiercely, saluting him before you turned to leave, picking up the paper as you went.

“And Y/N?” You turned to face him. “Take off your ODM gear. Wear something formal.

---

You went to the location Erwin had specified, and you were only left with more confusion. You had put on something somewhat nice, with a white button up shirt, black dress pants, and shiny black dress shoes. Still, their was no sign of any sort of “mission” that Erwin apparently needed from you.

You had found yourself in an open field, specifically the one behind the Scout regiment building. The tall grass swayed in the wind, and you noted the fact that the usual soldiers sparring in the fields were strangely absent.

But, as the sun began to set, a small light peered it’s way into your vision. You squinted, focuses your eyes on what appeared to be... a candle...?

You stuffed the map into your back pocket carelessly, speed-walking to the light out of curiosity.

You made it towards the source of the light, and it was, indeed, a candle. Of course, there was more than that. It was set on a small circular table draped in a white tablecloth, one chair on either side of it. Two empty wine glasses as well as a few pairs of utensils on each side.

You studied the sight curiously, and you pulled out a chair without thinking. As soon as you did though, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump and squeak out in surprise.

You heard a hearty chuckle behind you, and you turned to face the source of the noise, but your eyes widened in surprise at the sight.

Hange stood tall in a jet black suit, smiling down at you warmly. They had their hair tied in a ponytail, and had ditched their work goggles for more formal rectangular glasses. “Sorry, Y/N.” They rubbed the back of their neck nervously. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You took a step back, shamelessly eyeing down Hange’s attire, a pink blush creeping up on your cheeks. You meant to stay angry, but you honestly had forgotten all of your gripes upon seeing Hange dressed in such a nice outfit.

“Hange?” You sputtered, trying to hide your fluster. “What’s going on?”

They walked over to you, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down to sit in one of the chairs.

“I felt a little bad about forgetting our anniversary,” They chuckled nervously, “So I set this up!” They smiled proudly.

“A candlelit dinner?” You mused, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “How original.” Despite your outwardly unamused reaction, you were pleasantly surprised with the display of affection.

They sat down across from you, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear.

“It’s well thought out.” You raised an eyebrow in doubt. “For the time we had...” They smiled nervously.

“I’m sure.” You chuckled. You relaxed into your chair before holding up your empty wine glass. “Did you bring anything other than empty dishes?”

Hange nodded quickly, reaching down under their table to grab something, and you quickly realized that it was the neck of a wine bottle. They popped the cork effortlessly, and poured the two of you a glass each.

You took a sip from your glass, the taste of alcohol relaxing you further into your environment.

Hange put two of theirs fingers in the their mouth and whistled loudly, causing you to wince and cover you ears.

“What was that??” You sputtered.

“Just calling over the cook.”

You nodded, taking another long sip from your wine glass. The suddenness of the situation died down, and you peered up at Hange, who seemed to be staring at you nervously. They seemed to be trying to gauge your reaction, but you weren’t giving them anything to work with, so you decided to start speaking.

“You went out of your way to do this?” You sighed, staring at them curiously.

“Yeah...” They trailed off, “I had to make it up y’know. It really wasn’t my intention to ignore you...”

They looked back up at you, and you tilted your head, prompting them to continue.

“I got consumed in my work, and completely forgot about something so important to you. It’s my mistake.” They bowed their head in apology. “So I set this up. I even got Erwin and Levi to help. I just wanted to make it up to you. I just wanted...” They looked to the side with a blush on their face. “...to make you happy.”

You smiled softly at them, understanding their apology.

“It’s fine, Hange.” You laughed out loud, causing Hange to blush at your beautiful face in the candlelight. “I forgive you.”

They smiled, relief washing over her face as the weight lifted off of their shoulders. “Thank god...” They muttered, leaning back in their chair. “I was afraid I fucked up...” They giggled.

Their face in the yellow hue of the candle make them look ethereal, and you couldn’t help your heart from fluttering as the overwhelming urge to kiss them overtook you.

You peered up through shy eyes and met their bright ones. You didn’t explain at all, but they seemed to understand as you scooted your chair closer and leaned forward. They leaned towards you as well, as your lips connected delicately. You felt their hands go up to cup your cheeks gently as you rested your own hands on the table.

You stayed like that, silently enjoying the moment for what felt like ages, until you heard a small sound to your side.

“Ahem,” The noise startled you to lean back a little bit, and Hange did the same. A man, donned in a formal outfit holding a tray of luxurious looking food.

“Ah, sorry, sorry...” Hange trailed over, slinking back into their chair quickly, their demeanor and posture not at all aligning with the formal connotations of their attire and the setting before them. You had straightened in your chair almost immediately, blushing at the fact that someone had witnessed you sharing a somewhat intimate moment with Hange.

The waiter said nothing, only rolling his eyes as he set the tray down upon the table, before turning around to walk away silently.

You scooped some food onto your plate, watching admirably as Hange did the same. Once they had finished, they turned their head up to meet your gaze before smiling.

“Happy anniversary, love.”

This feels bad but oh well lol.

Also sorry this took so long lol I’ve been busy :|

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angel Roll their Eyes

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker’s crazy schemes.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Finally starting to get somewhere!! I just started writing chapter 4, so it might take a bit longer before I upload again. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter in the meanwhile.

Thank you for reading! Just send me an ask if you want to be added to my taglist :) 

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

The next morning went by in a blur. They had moved everything to Wylan’s house on Geldstraat. Kaz was right. It would’ve been too suspicious if they had left for the party from the barrel. Questions about the job were being thrown from one person to the next. Various answers about cues and schedules flying in every direction.

“Wait, what time are we supposed to get to the party again?”

“Quarter after 6 bells, Jesper!” Yelled Wylan running by with an armful of party clothes.

“Nikolai and I are getting there at 6 bells. That way it won’t look like we know each other.” Y/N had been heading off in the opposing direction.

“Wylan! You forgot your jacket in the music room” Kaz’s raspy voice was easily recognizable above the others.

“I’ll go ahead and scout for the best location for you to hide to summon the storm. I’ll come get you at a quarter to 8 bells.”

Nikolai had to admire the crows’ ability to understand each other and get the job done in such chaos. They were running back and forth in every direction trying to get everything ready. Even Zoya seemed at ease discussing the plan with Inej. He needed this job to succeed. He needed to guarantee his country’s future. Once he was done dealing with this newest threat from Fjerda…? He’d like to work with the crows again. He felt much freer. Maybe it could become a side hustle for him and Zoya. It would give them a nice break from ruling a country.

He felt a soft hand rest on his arm. “Hey, we should probably go get ready for the party. We’ll meet here at 5 bells? That way we can go over last-minute details and head over.” She was smiling up at him. Her smile was soft as if she could tell he was anxious. He let his eyes trail over her tailored face and couldn’t help but miss her true features once more.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then, my darling.” He pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles and watched her disappear up the vast staircase.

---

Nikolai made his way to the room Wylan had so graciously offered him that morning. It was not his room at the Grand Palace, but it was much nicer than the one he’d had at the slat. He took his time putting on the rich merch’s clothes Kaz had picked out for him. He was still in awe of the work Y/N had done on him. The young king found himself unavoidably staring at himself in the mirror mounted to his wall. He finished buttoning up his shirt and folded his suit jacket on his arm. It was almost 5 bells. He knew he should make his way back to the mansion’s parlor.

Nikolai had barely sat in one of the large armchairs when an appreciative whistle sounded on his left. He followed Jesper’s gaze to the stairs. Y/N’s dress accentuated her new body in all the right places. Nikolai couldn’t help but think it would’ve suited her even better before the tailoring.

“No one warned me I’d have to fight off every man who lays eyes on my wife.” He complained.

He watched as Inej and Zoya approached Y/N. The women shared a few whispered comments before they lead Y/N to him. He could’ve sworn he saw the girl’s cheeks turn red. He had to put up a lot more effort than he was used to in schooling his own features. The way the dress moved along to the sway of her hips, with every step she took, made his brain go blank. He imagined the way it would’ve been even more sensual with her natural curves. Maybe he could convince her to wear the gown again once she’d tailored them both back to normal. His mind was racing with images of her, twirling in his arms, wearing that damned dress.

“Anything you want to go over before we get going?” She was looking at him expectantly, her eyes bright, her tailored lips stretched in a small smile.

His mouth felt dry. All eyes were on him. He had to fight to kick start his brain again. “Nope, I think we’re ready.” He offered her a hand, his natural charm coming back to him. “Shall we, my darling wife?”

She took his hand and they headed for the door leading to the elegant boathouse. “No mourners” she called over her shoulder.

A unified “No funerals” rang out behind them. Nikolai made a mental note to ask them what the saying meant, at some point, when he wasn’t so distracted by the beautiful Grisha on his arm.

---

They’d taken a small, polished boat to make their way to councilman Van Verent’s house. It had only taken a few minutes for them to reach the sophisticated boathouse on the councilman’s property. A Stadwatch officer had taken their invitation before guiding them to the stylishly decorated mansion. Flowers from every guest’s country were arranged in beautiful crystal vases matching the colourful silk ribbons adorning the banister. As they entered the main hall, they were stunned by the sheer number of guests already in attendance. The main floor was filled with dignitaries from Kerch, Novyi Zem, Shu Han, Fjerda, and the Wandering Isle. Nikolai noticed the absence of anyone representing his country. Good, he thought, it’ll make the job easier.

To his dismay, Y/N was already catching the eye of a few men standing off to the sides of the room. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, pulling her closer, sending the interested parties a nasty look. He felt her breath hitch but didn’t release his hold on her body. She was his wife. Anyone who wanted to get to her would have to go through him. Nikolai was surprised by the jealousy he felt. He was usually in control of his feelings, always choosing to be pragmatic rather than emotional. He knew they had to put on a convincing act. He still wasn’t supposed to be this possessive of a girl he’d only met a few days ago, right? All the Saints and their mothers, Zoya will murder me if she finds out about this.

Y/N had maneuvered them towards a group of Zemeni dignitaries, quickly engaging in easy conversation with one of the wives. Nikolai used the opportunity to present their made-up business proposal to a few interested parties, promising to send them more information as soon as they went back home to the Wandering Isle.

They navigated group after group of foreign and domestic dignitaries for about an hour. He had to admit Kaz had done a wonderful job when creating their false identities, but he was tired of the constant mindless chattering. How lucky, he thought, the dance floor seems very appealing right about now.

He leaned in close, letting his lips brush against Y/N’s ear, interrupting her conversation. “You are doing a fantastic job, my love.” He felt her shiver against him. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of business partners once you’re done here. Now, however, I would very much like to dance with my beautiful wife.” She looked at him, surprise evident in her deep brown eyes. Nikolai smirked; he could get used to this. He offered her a hand before guiding her swiftly to the dance floor.

He felt men staring, once again, at ‘his wife’ as they graciously made their way to the middle of the floor. The small orchestra started playing a beautiful soft song, perfect for a romantic moment between lovers. Nikolai rested his right hand on the small of Y/N’s back, pulling her close, keeping her hand tightly in his own. He felt her free hand gently come to rest on his shoulder. His heart beating more quickly than he would’ve liked. Why am I so nervous? She was gazing up at him, a gentle smile gracing her lips. He swallowed hard. Nikolai had never felt more grateful for the dance lessons he’d taken as a child. He’d only done it to please his mother. He had to admit he was glad they were paying off now. To anyone watching them, they simply looked like newlyweds, madly in love, eager to share a dance.

They turned elegantly, in time with the slow music, their bodies completely in sync. Their breathing even, their steps well-balanced. The deep green skirts of her dress following every graceful movement they made. She followed his lead perfectly as if they’d been partners for years. She seemed to trust him completely, showing him how safe she felt in his arms. Time slowed for a moment. Nikolai found himself forgetting all about the job, about the plans they had to steal, even about his country. He wanted to stay in this moment, holding the talented Grisha against him, forever.

The sound of applause brought him out of his reverie. He took in their surroundings. Y/N looked as surprised as he felt. Her eyes wide, cheeks flushed. He had no idea how long they had been dancing, how many songs had been played. It dawned on him that they were the cause of the applause. People had stopped dancing and talking to watch the young couple, completely lost in each other, moving elegantly across the floor. He saw Jesper and Wylan, wide grins plastered on their faces, in the far corner of the room. They looked way too pleased. Saints, I hope they won’t tell Brekker about this.

He bowed, Y/N following his lead once again, before walking off the dance floor, towards the grand staircase. They had to stop drawing so much attention to themselves. He wished he could have a moment to talk to Y/N, alone, away from the prying eyes of the crowd. She was playing her role to perfection, all smiles, as couples complimented them on their dancing for the next few minutes.

The ornate wall-mounted clock chimed. Zoya, Wylan, and Jesper would create the distraction in 15 minutes. Wylan subtly nodded to him, indicating he had already placed the small incendiary charge in the dining room. He had developed this newest marvel by studying and modifying one of David Kostyk’s discoveries. It seemed the boy truly was a genius. Jesper would detonate the charge at 8 bells, the sound of his shot covered by the storm Zoya would summon. The fire would require all-hands-on-deck to be put out, leaving the office unguarded. If everything went according to Kaz’s plan, it would give him and Y/N about 30 minutes to pick the lock of Van Verent’s office, crack the safe and make their way back to the party with the blueprints safely tucked in the sheath hidden beneath Y/N’s dress.

They came to a halt in the shadow of the staircase, ready to spring to action at their cue. Nikolai made sure to pull Y/N close, slipping an arm around her waist.

“I didn’t know you were such a good dancer, my love.” He murmured. Better keep up the act. She makes it easy, though. I don’t even have to lie.

She laughed softly and turned in his arms, snaking her own arm around his neck, pressing her lips quickly against his cheek. “Thank you, darling. I am full of hidden talents, you know...” the raise of her eyebrow and her tone so suggestive Nikolai had to fight to keep a straight face. She’s only doing her job. She’s supposed to be my wife. It’s only normal that a young wife should flirt with her delightfully handsome husband. He was trying to convince himself but the playful look in her eyes told him otherwise. She spun around once more, keeping his hand on her waist, leaving him to observe the guests enjoying the party.

The clock chimed once more. 8 bells. Thunder boomed outside, rain battering the windows. A high-pitched scream sounded to his right, coming from the dining room. Other screams quickly followed. Guests ran past them, fleeing the room. Guards came rushing down the stairs, towards the fire. It was complete chaos. Nikolai found himself impressed, once again, by how brilliant the crows were. Maybe I could convince Kaz to help me plan my next military campaign? Or get Wylan to come work with David. I should at least sail with the Wraith and her crew.

Y/N’s fingers closed around his wrist. “That’s our cue.” She said with a sly grin on her lips.

---

Taglist: @power-of-words23

[inkedtae]

fountain of fantasies ⇾ jjk. [M]

⟶ from the eros universe; you do not need to read eros to read this one shot

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ god!jungkook x curvy!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ s2l, greek mythology au, circa. 1800 au, historical au, light fluff, angst, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ you rather be engaging in heart racing activities than in heart breaking ones

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 15.6k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!jungkook, bigdick!jungkook, buff!jungkook, winged!jungkook, longhair!jungkook, ponytail!jungkook, sub!reader, slightly insecure!reader, shy!reader, mentions and consumption of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it folks), rough sex, playful-ish sex, semi-public sex, fountain sex, dirty talk, creampie, multiple orgasms, slight degradation, overstimulation, exhibition, a lil voyeurism, praise kink, anal, edging, squirting, choking, hair pulling, bodyworshipping, a lil motorboating, a lil begging, water play, a lil spit play, a lil breast play, ass play, a fountain of filth :)

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i’m too much of a hoe for greek god guk not to turn this into a mini-series... 

⤜ banner by ↠ @thebannershop​ (thank you dearie~)

⤜ beta’d by ↠  @moonmintrails​ (my soulmate~)

⤜ le playlist ↠

Plump plum juices leak from your violet stained lips. You watch the storm rage through the balcony windows. Flashes of lightning, streaks of raindrops and the wall-rattling thunder only stares back at you. The noise of the world around you would be just the perfect cover for all the sounds he draws out of you. Teeth sinking into the fruit’s flesh, you take another bite and fix your stockings. Topless, you lean back in your plush seat and cross your legs. 

You know he’s not coming. It’s been a week since his last visit, a week of staying up late only to fall asleep and wake up to a new toy. You glance at your bed. The collection of gifts under it do not compensate for his absence. You don’t want the ruby dildos or golden anal plugs. You can live without the silver tit-clamps and sapphire pearled whips. It’s him you won’t do without. 

But tonight would be a perfect night of fun. You swallow your bite before taking another one as your mind circles every dirty thought you’ve been wanting to entertain for the last seven days. Staring out the rain stained windows, the one that appeals to you the most for tonight would be on that balcony, where it started all those months ago. The thought of being drenched in rainwater while he bends you over the railing makes you squeeze your crossed legs together. And the fluttering flap of his wings as they shake out the storm prickles your skin with goosebumps. Wet hands tangled in your wet hair. Loud moans blended in the loud thunder. 

An urgent knock raps on your door. You sit up, letting out a shaky breath from the remnants of that fantasy. As you set your plum down by some grapes on the side table, you shoot to your feet to grab your robe. 

“Bunny,” Mary, your sister, whispers from the other side. 

The little childhood nickname brings a smile to your face. The two of you would play Wonderland in the garden as children and Mary would have you, Bunny, guide her down the right path. Now, she only ever calls you that when she’s nervous and struggling to admit it. 

Tying the robe around your waist, you eagerly let her in. “What is it, Mary?” You smile as she rushes past you. 

She doesn’t take a moment to properly greet you, darting to your little library instead. “Do you have that book about Mount Olympus?” She asks. Her freshly painted nails scrape over the spines of each book as you part your lips to reply. “Oh! Here it is!”

Returning to your seat, you watch your older sister skim through the pages. “Why the sudden interest in Greek gods?” 

“Michael mentioned something about Hera and I just wanted to- I knew it!” 

Chewing on another bite, you raise a brow at her. “I’m sure he’d be pleased to hear that tomorrow,” you chuckle around your food.

Mary pauses. Her eyes, previously gleaming with excitement, diminish into indifference. She clears her throat and shuts the book. “Mama says to never correct a man.”

You stuff your mouth with a big bite and avoid your sister’s gaze. There’s lots you have to say about your mother’s philosophy on love, but you know better than to voice those opinions. 

Mary continues talking, despite knowing your reservations about your mother. She holds the book to her chest and tentatively sits on your bed. “Mama wants me to talk to you about something.”

Slowly chewing, you glance at her. You already know where this is going. It’s another desperate attempt on your mother’s part to make sure you don’t wear the dress he had gifted you. She knows full well how much it reveals and how well it’s designed. You don’t care for your mother’s opinion though; you haven’t for months. It’s Mary’s opinion on the subject that matters to you. 

“But, I told her that I don’t want to lie to you.” She takes a moment to sigh then meets your gaze once more. “You’ll look gorgeous in that dress, Bunny,” she smiles. “And I have the perfect shoes for them too.”

A laugh bubbles out of your throat and you almost choke on your food. Mary laughs at your struggling state. “Oh, can we get ready for your party together?” You ask, perking up in your seat once you properly swallow your food. 

Mary’s excited gaze wavers. She glances back at the book before hesitantly nodding. “Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing…”

You give her a pointed look. Flopping down on the bed, Mary groans and stares up at the ceiling. “What do you think of Michael?” You part your lips to reply, but she continues, “I mean I know he’s from a good family, and can take care of me, and he’s so handsome.”

You bite your lip at the last comment. Michael is not exactly your type of heartthrob. But, then again, your senses have been obscured by a god, so now not a single person can look as handsome, as beautiful, as heavenly as your Eros. 

“But, he says and does things I’m not exactly…” She trails off. “And I think his previous courtship with Linette ended horribly.”

Her half-sentence rings some warning in your gut. However, by the way she avoids eye contact to stare at your crystal chandelier, you decide not to address it. “What makes you think so?” you ask instead.

“Well, that’s what he told me.”

Resisting the urge to scoff, you simply quirk a brow. Mary may be a couple of years older, but she still hasn’t grown out of her naive tendencies. You’re about to tell her that everything will be okay when you catch a familiar silhouette on your balcony. 

He’s here.

Mary shoots up off your bed. You fear for a second that she may have seen him, but then she asks, “So? What do you think?”

Gulping, you take a moment to collect your thoughts. Erasing the fact that he’s finally here from your mind, you try to remain focused on your sister. You want the best for her. You want her to be excited about who she marries and for the life she will spend with that person. And that’s why it takes you a world of restraint not to tell her that if she isn’t a hundred percent sure about marrying Michael, then maybe she shouldn’t. 

“Do you love him, Mary?” You ask. “And I don’t mean that ‘nobility’ love. I mean that, ‘makes you cry just thinking about losing him’ love.”

Mary hesitates.Your eyes flicker to the balcony where he continues to stand. Inhaling deeply, you silently ask him to wait just a second longer. 

“I think I do,” she smiles. 

Your heart shatters at her phrasing. I think. Where is the room for thinking when true love is at your door? You want to tell her that there shouldn’t be any of this ‘thinking’ nonsense. You either do or you don’t, you want to say. But her smile is so pure and eyes light up just enough that you don’t have the heart to take it all away. Besides, maybe she really does love him. 

“Then, I think he’s perfect for you.”

Mary grabs the book and jumps to her feet. “Let’s meet in my room at seven,” she smiles, ruffling through your hair on her way to the door. “Have a good night, Bunny.”

“You too,” you smile as she shuts the door with a wink. The gesture is unusual but you suppose she’s just excited about the party tomorrow. You’re not exactly sure why she did it and with a winged god at your door, you can’t find it in you to care for too long. 

Darting to the balcony, you pull open the doors to be greeted by empty winds and heavy raindrops. Those wings are gone, balcony vacant of anything but despair. Not even a gift replaces his presence. You hold your tears back and swallow the growing lump in your throat. Your time is not one of his toys, nor is it free. You’ve run out of patience. You’re empty of reason, thriving on broken feelings. 

Shakily sighing, you bury the hurt in your voice and whisper, “if you can’t stay, don’t come at all.”

Sparkling diamonds, glasses, and wine circle the ballroom. Sipping on your drink, you take in the gleaming marble floors and the arches of the grand windows. The Barbury Estate is twice the size of yours. You want to believe that your mother’s delight in Mary’s proposal has more to do with her happiness than the fact that her fiancé is riddled with more wealth than he knows what to do with. But, you know that your mother has a special bond with money. It’s the same relationship she has with social standards. Her philosophy is simple; the more, the better. Now, if only your mother felt that way about you. 

No, wait. This night is not about you. An evening lost in a grand room of people only appeals to you when the occasion for such torture is your sister’s engagement party. Your chest swells with pride as you watch Mary dance with her fiancé. Michael Barbury is not exactly what you would call ‘prince charming.’ His jokes border on racism and thoughts are somewhat insipid, but he makes Mary happy. That’s all that matters to you. Her relapse in judgement last night does worry you. But you know that she’ll be happy with Michael. With Eros gone, you wonder how soon you’ll find a love like that too.

Mary’s graceful giggles cut you out of your trance. You blink once, twice until your senses fully return to you. Even the smallest thought of him throws you out of your consciousness. Settling your eyes back on your sister, watching as she basks in Michael’s unwavering attention and dotting devotion, you’re greeted with a sense of comfort. The guilt of not speaking your truth disappears and the fear of never finding love dissipates to the back of your mind. 

“Miss (Y/N)?” Lee Kyon asks, waving his hand in front of you. 

Right, you forgot he was there. Turning to face him once more, you flash Kyon a somewhat kind smile. “Yes, Mr. Lee?”

He furrows his brows. “Is everything alright?”

Perhaps everything would be alright if your mother didn’t constantly feel the need to set you up with the first poor man that accidently looks your way. Yes, you’re well aware of your mother’s behaviour and the fact that Kyon has no real interest in getting to know you. Judging by the way he continues to loop back to the same dull topic about the history of wine, you can tell that he is merely trying to keep the conversation short enough to be polite, but not long enough to be courting you. 

It’s not as though you care for his company either. Kyon has half of Michael’s intelligence. Even though you were only half-listening to his rant, you already pick out the few historical inaccuracies in his unprompted explanation. Of course, the worst thing you can do to a man is attack his wits and pride; that’s what your mother tells you anyway. It’s what worried Mary last night too. And you’ve tested that theory enough to know how true it is and how fun it can be. Watching them grapple for the right words, flare their nostrils in frustration and demand you apologize will always be just as humorous as when they try to “teach” you about language or art or, in Kyon’s case, history. 

Biting back a sigh, you nod and silently pray for a way out of this boring conversation and into something a bit more exciting. 

Clearing his throat, Kyon searches for a way to fill the silence. He then half-heartedly mutters, “You look darling this evening.”

Glancing down at your dress, your face heats up. The tiger lily-peach layers of satin and tulle fall down to your ankles. The pleated skirt mirrors the petals of a flower. Cleavage on display, the long flowy sleeves fall off your shoulders. Finished with a green ribbon around your waist and gleaming pink jewels, this is possibly the best dress he has gifted you. 

Your Eros left it, no wait- he’s not yours anymore. A friend left it hanging in your closet one morning after another passionate night in his embrace. It was a beautiful surprise to be woken up to and a manageable struggle to explain how it came into your possession. You can’t help but find it a bit ironic how your mother is desperate to set you up with the first man she sees, but hesitant to dress you up for the occasion. He must have known, must have felt your frustration towards your mistreatment. 

It takes everything in you to fight off the smile playing on your lips. You glance back up at Kyon, parting your lips to thank him when he continues, “And how brave of you to wear such a dress.”

You pause. “Brave?” 

Kyon smiles and nods. 

Is he really telling you what you think he is? Is he really undermining your confidence, undermining the beauty you know you have by commending your ‘bravery?’ No, you mustn’t judge too quickly. Perhaps he’s admiring your choice to go against expectations of covering up with a shawl. 

You swallow back your initial assumptions, and decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Lee?”

“Well,” Kyon starts. He looks off to the side and raises both his brows before looking to you once more. His hazel eyes scan your figure, jaw clenching as he clears his throat. “A dress like this is traditionally worn by a woman that looks more like…” he trails off, eyes wandering as well. “Like Miss (L/N).”

A stinging chorus of hushed laughter strikes your pride. Your gut boils with shame and humiliation as your eyes bounce between the partygoers near you. You hadn’t realized they were eavesdropping. As a desperate attempt to ignore their maliciously amused looks, you follow Kyon’s gaze to Mary. Chewing on your lip, you ignore the urge to roll your eyes. This isn’t the first time someone has compared you to her, and you know very well that it won’t be the last. Even the utter disrespect of referring to you by your first name and your sister by your last name further displays their lack of recognition for you. In their eyes, you will forever remain as Miss (Y/N), the spinster-destined sister of Miss (L/N). And though you are certain that the twinge of pain and anger festering in your chest is for Kyon, you can’t help but be a little annoyed with your sister as well. 

But then she laughs, smiling so bright and wide. She looks up at Michael and rests her chin on his bicep, reveling in his attention and embrace. You realize, in her moment of happiness, that you can’t find it in you to hold this grudge against her. Your love for her is greater than your pride. Besides, she plays no part in your insecurities. And, you decide as you turn back to Kyon, neither will this privileged upperclassman.

“How brave,” you sigh with a single shouldered shrug. 

“What is, Miss (Y/N)?”

“How brave of you to believe anyone cares for your opinion.”

Kyon chokes on his drink. The partygoers, previously humoured by your embarrassment, relish in your courage to upstage Kyon. Gasping a giggle, you step back to avoid being spit on. He glares at you as he wipes his chin. You don’t hesitate to return that hard, hateful look in his eye. Raising a challenging brow, you dare him to attempt to embarrass you again.

He takes one step towards you, looking as though he’s about to grab at your arm when his stride is redirected. Kyon walks away without another word. You stare after him in confusion as he mutters an apology under his breath. 

You’re not sure what caused this sudden change in his angry course, but you’re all too happy to be rid of him to dwell on the thought of his motives much longer. He must’ve known how offensive his words were. True, most people compare you to your sister, but at least they have the decency to do it behind your back. You rather be physically absent from a conversation like that. It makes it easier to ignore and avoid the negativity. 

Confidence restored, you feel comfortable in your skin again. The dress is a perfect fit, the struggle to breath nowhere to be found, and sits well on your frame- despite what others think. However, you have very little time to revel in your victory as your mother stalks towards you.

“What have you done?” she hisses over your shoulder. Before you even have a chance to look back at her, she drags you by your arm to the edge of the room. “What did you say this time?”

A heavy sigh pushes past your lips as you clasp your hands before you and reply, “He insulted me.”

Your mother quirks a brow. “And?” She questions as if waiting for a more substantial argument. 

“And?” You echo in confusion. “And he insulted me. I don’t see why that’s not enough of a reason to insult him back.”

She shakes her head and inhales deeply. You brace yourself for the disparaging rant you know is coming. Nothing good ever comes from a head shake and heavy sigh. But, instead of her usual ‘stay in your place’ harangue, your mother cuts to the chase this time. “Do you realize that might just be your only chance for happiness?” 

Suppressing a dry chuckle, you lower your gaze to the floor. You know your mother is well aware of how her question sounds; you know she doesn’t care. Still, you ask, “Is that really what happiness looks like, mother?”

She falls silent. After a beat, you dare to peek up at her. Those once hard eyes soften as her gaze locks on Mary and Michael, locks on how they gaze upon one another with such adoration. Blinking repeatedly, she turns to you and sighs, “Yes, to some people that,” she pauses to glance at Kyon, “is what happiness looks like.” 

A wicked pang of sad, lonely anger twists in your chest then tumbles to the pit of your stomach. Your gaze falls to the ground and heart shatters with that last shred of hope that your mother perhaps did want the best for you. Up until now, you truly believed that in some twisted way, she was just looking out for you, making sure you have someone by your side long after she’s gone. Her words now and that shameless look that matches that shameless confession only point to the painfully obvious fact you have tried so hard to ignore. Your mother’s need to make you look a certain way and throw you at any breathing man has never been for your well-being, but rather the well-being of her reputation. 

“Go to Mr. Lee, (Y/N),” she orders. “Offer to freshen his drink, wipe down his shirt, and then apologize. Beg for his forgiveness if you have to; just make this right.” 

With a deep breath, you trail your eyes back up and try to collect yourself. Your eyes flicker between the exit and where Kyon stands.Your mother clears her throat, drawing your attention back on her. 

“Have I made myself clear?” 

“Crystal.”

She returns to her friends, that gleeful smile plastered on her face once more. Your eyes fall back on Kyon with every intention of following through your mother’s orders. However, he only greets your gaze with malice. A wave of nausea overwhelms you. 

With a shake of your head, you tear yourself away from his threatening demeanour and turn towards the exit. You just need to get out of his line of sight, out of that pretentious atmosphere. Something within you can’t seem to stop telling you that one more moment near that passive-aggressive punk will only make you feel worse. So, you lengthen your strides out of the ballroom and down the hall to put as much distance between you and them. 

The pressure of their expectations suffocates you like no corset ever has. All you can think is how desperately you need some fresh air. It takes you a moment, but you navigate your way around the manor well enough to find the back entrance. 

Cold air engulfs you the moment you step outside. A relieved giggle slips past your lips and you throw your head back to relish in the cool spring breeze. The sky reflects a swirl of silvery indigo. It lures you into its constellations and wonders with every other glance. Lowering your gaze, you scan the garden before you. A cobblestone path leads all the way down to a hedged maze. You can never resist a good garden. In fact, you had helped design the one back home. You hope that when your husband-to-be comes along, he’d have a garden too and maybe you can design it together.

Realizing you can maybe hold on to a few more moments of peace if they can’t find you, you decide to follow the path and hide away within the walls of the maze. You’re halfway down the cobblestone trail when you sense a strong pull dragging your soul closer to the hedges. Picking up your pace, you follow that tug faster, soon weaving through the maze like you’ve been through it before. It’s not long before you reach the centre. 

It’s a large clearing, decorated with a variety of blooming flowers. In the middle stands a grand marble fountain. Three tiered, the fountain sprouts fresh water through the mouths of singing angels. A little smile plays on your lips as you click-clack your way towards it. The tranquil rush of the stream calms your previously erratic heart. You take a seat on the edge and stare down at the pool. It’s empty of floating flowers or little fish like the one you have at home, but still beautiful all the same. 

“Miss (L/N).”

Your eyes well up the moment his sweet voice greets your ears. A shaky breath escapes you and you turn to find him. Did he not hear your words last night? Does he not care? Or is he here to stay this time?

Sitting atop the hedges of the garden maze and out of the moon’s light, he looks just as heavenly as always. Most details of his beauty are hidden, but you can make out his long hair and the way it’s pulled back into a ponytail, leaving loose, short strands to frame his face. And those soft wings are out, spread wide behind him as he stares back at you. Shirtless, he smirks. 

You can’t help the smile stretching upon your lips at the sight of him. It’s an uncontrollable reflex, as is the wetness of your core when he’s around. He usually doesn’t arrive this early when he does show up. How long has he been there? 

Clearing your throat, however, you subside the urge to smile upon his presence. “Mr. Jeon.” His name leaves your lips in a trembling breath as your heart’s aflush with desire. You have to remind yourself that you’re upset with his disappearances.

A sweet smile takes over his features. “I’ve upset you,” he notes. 

Is this a joke to him? How many nights does he expect you to wait around for a maybe? You both know your time is worth more than that. And though you want to tell him that he’s done more than upset you, that he’s disappointed you, you confess something else instead. “I’ve missed you.”

“You know I miss you too,” he replies. 

You resist the urge to scoff. “Are you working tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I just got off actually.”

Without me? You mentally scold yourself for your dirty thought. You can’t even hold onto your anger for more than thirty seconds without having the urge to spread your legs for him. “Lucky me,” you sarcastically reply. 

“Do you like the dress?”

“I’d like it more with the gift from last night,” you glare at him. “If there was a gift from last night, that is.” 

Hopping off the edge, his wings fan out to guide him down before you with ease. Your face falls as he stands in the moonlight. Thick mud coats his muscular body and those once white wings are stained with dirt and grim. His sharp face is scratched with little scabs as well. He looks like he fell from the sky. 

“Jungkook,” you whisper as you reach out to caress his wounded cheek. 

But Jungkook can’t be any less interested in his current state. His attention does not waver off you. Those kind eyes of his scan your frame, lingering around your breasts. “It looks even better than I imagined.”

You feel as though you have to ask him if this really is a joke to him this time. He leaves you for a week with very little behind and returns only to be caked in mud and peppered with wounds and has the audacity to pretend it’s not an issue. Now, you’re upset. 

You blink back your tears, quietly asking, “What happened?”

Maybe it was the hurt in your tone or the worry flashing in your eyes but his usually cocky demeanor trembles just enough to comfort you. “It’s just been a long night, baby. I missed a couple of shots and it took a little more effort than usual to fix everything.”

Fidgeting fingers trail up the exposed side of his thick thigh under the stained toga-like skirt he wears. He shudders under your touch as your hands make their way up to his buff chest where they stay. You inhale deeply to settle your erratic heart. The earthy grim of the mud invades your senses. He doesn’t even smell like himself anymore. 

Knitting your brows together, you ask, “Are you hurt?”

Jungkook’s entire expression softens. Shaking his head, he goes to cradle your body closer to his but stops before his hands reach your waist. You can feel his desire though, to touch and be touched. It’s raw and real, and purely Jungkook. This shared desire the two of you have roots deep within your souls. It breaks your heart to think that he’s not yours anymore, and maybe you made that decision rashly, in a moment of anger. But, you both know it’s not how you feel right now. 

“I need to know your schedule,” you say in a quiet voice. He tongues his cheek, erupting your heart with a surge of want. You ignore the feeling long enough to continue, “I can’t just sit and wait, Jungkook.”

He stares down at you, eyes unreadable. You can tell that he’s mulling over your words, but have no clue how he feels about them. Finally, he cups your cheeks, staining them with dirt, and says “I need you to trust me when I say that I’m doing my best to get to you as quickly as I can, darling.”

Your heart cannot deny him when his gaze reflects such sincerity and honesty. Every ounce of trust, of belief is in him and only him. And maybe you are being selfish, but to be stranded without an explanation is heartbreaking. You know he knows that, or at least feels it in you when you think of him and pray. 

“Just tell me I’m yours again,” he whispers, “and I’ll prove to you how much I’ve missed you too.”

Is that why he’s here? He’s afraid of losing you? Biting your lip, you can’t help but lean into his touch. It was mean of you to punish him like this and make him think that you were really upset with him when in actuality, all you wanted was a little more attention. You give him an innocent look through your lashes. He does his best not to swoon, but you know him well enough now to know that the little quiver in his lips means he’s on the verge of getting on his knees. 

“No man of mine is this dirty,” you smirk, echoing the words of your first encounter. 

Jungkook smiles and this time you have to keep yourself from swooning at the sight of his dimples. “I thought that’s exactly how you like them,” he purrs as he walks you back towards the fountain. 

Heat rushes to your face. The marble edge of the fountain hits the bend of your knees but you refuse to sit down with Jungkook only inches away. His hands may still be on your face, rubbing that dirt into your cheeks, but his body is still too far away from yours. You move to take a step forward, desperate to have your body against his. However, Jungkook is quicker, most likely having read your mind, and moves back before you can even get half a step in. 

Your eyes harden at the action. Pushing his hands off your face, you quirk a brow. 

“I don’t want to ruin your dress.”

“A dress like this is meant to be ruined.”

He smirks. You can tell by the amusement dancing in his eyes that he’s enjoying the sight of you this needy and possessive. He decides to further test the limits of your composure, asking, “Don’t you have a party to get back to?”

He’s teasing. The mockery riddled in his features is enough of a hint, but the playful tone in his voice is still something you bask in. Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, you let out a deep sigh and look up to the clouds. “A flight back home might do us both some good,” you suggest instead. “It’s not like there’s anything waiting for me at the party anyways.”

“Not even your sister?”

You shake your head. 

“Mother?”

Face folding, you suppress the urge to groan and whisper, “Oh, gods no.” 

Jungkook chuckles as he circles around the fountain. He dips his hand in the clear water, before asking, “What about Lee Kyon?”

Now, what would Jeon Jungkook know of Lee Kyon? A quick scan of his features doesn’t let you in on much besides the fact that he’s trying to draw a reaction out of you. However, what reaction is he hoping for? Is he looking for an explanation? He knows all about your mother’s habits and your relationships, or lack thereof, with mortal men. You never even have to say it; Jungkook knows there’s no one else for you but him. 

“Mr. Lee is fragile,” you sigh. 

His wings twitch. He likes what he hears. You curl in your lips to keep from smiling. Could he, Eros the god of love, lust and desire, really be jealous of an imbecile? Setting your visual tastes aside for a moment, you and Jungkook both know that Kyon, bless him, knows less than the very fountain you’re sitting on… The very fountain Jungkook is climbing into.

“What are you doing?” You ask, shooting to your feet as Jungkook makes himself comfortable. A giggle tumbles out of you, even though you tried to bite it back, at the sight of him washing himself like a bird. 

Jungkook stops for a moment, that playful gaze meeting yours. This one look is enough for you to know he’s heard, and he’s most likely still hearing your thoughts. You wish you could dip in and out of his mind too. It might put an end to all the guessing on your end. 

Continuing to splash his torso clean, he replies, “You’re sending me some mixed messages, baby. I thought you didn’t like me dirty.”

He has a point. Making your way over to him, you sit by his submerged frame on the edge of the fountain. Jungkook rubs his lips as he watches your jeweled fingers trace the curves of your cleavage. Your hand stops in the centre, just above the tied strings of your corset. You begin unlacing it when Jungkook tsks. Snapping your gaze to his, you wait for further instructions. 

“What are you doing?”

“I want to get in with you.”

“So, get in.”

You move to unlace your corset once more, but Jungkook grabs onto your wrist. Catching his darkening gaze, you furrow your brows at his tilting head. He’s gesturing for you to get in, but won’t let you take off your dress. He can’t serious think you’d get in wearing it the water is filthy with his- 

Glancing at the clear water, your thoughts are overtaken by confusion. You expected it to be tinted a dark brown from all the mud but it only reflects the marble bowl of the fountain, Jungkook’s legs, and that growing erection between them. You probably should question him on when he took that skirt off and why the water is so clean even after he went into it with layers of dirt coating his skin, but the heat between your legs is slowly growing more and more insufferable. 

Your eyes flicker back to Jungkook’s to find him already staring at you, a smirk painted on his handsome face. He pushes his tongue against his cheek once more, knowing how much you love that move, then quirks a cocky brow. Kicking off your heels, you lift your dress enough to dip each stocking covered foot into the fountain. You hiss at the sensation of the soggy socks against your feet, but power through knowing how much Jungkook loves the way they look on you. 

Your dress puffs up to the surface and you have to push it down and back to put as little space between you and Jungkook. “Your hair’s filthy,” you pout as you finally straddle his lap. 

Jungkook lets out a little sigh. You first think it’s because his cock stands right in front of your pussy, but soon realize how wrong you are. His dazed gaze wanders over your features, unsure where to stop and what to admire first. Those large hands instinctively find your thick thighs. He rubs and massages them as you untie his hair and wet your hands enough to wash some of the dirt away. You tilt his head back and lick your lips. It’s a habit you have when concentrating. Jungkook knows it well. 

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he suddenly purrs. His voice is thick, saturated with lust and adoration. “Honestly, you don’t have to do anything, darling, just let me look at you for a little bit.” 

You freeze, hands half tangled in his mud slick hair, and gaze back down at him. Dipping your head down, your lips catch his. You’re obsessed with the lack of hesitation between the two of you. Never has Jungkook thought twice about taking you as his when the two of you are this close. No matter how long he’s gone or how upset you may feel about that, when you find each other again, it’s almost like he never left. Your souls rapture in harmony and bodies tangle indefinitely. Eternity lies in the palms of your hands every second you're together. 

“I’ve got to clean your hair,” you mutter against his lips. He only hums before kissing you again. Inhaling sharply, you let him have another sip of your breath before pulling away completely. And you realize, as you glance at his wings, that they could probably use a good scrub down too before the two of you indulge in the good fun you’ve been dying to have all week. 

Before you can vocalize this, however, Jungkook is already readjusting your shared position. He tucks his wings tight behind him and shifts the two of you around so that the stream of the fountain washes down his back. “Hurry,” he orders. There’s very little room for negotiation in his tone. His appetite for a fun night is growing too and you can’t help but smile at the eagerness you’ve triggered. 

Sticking your tongue out, you hook it under his chin and tilt his head back. Jungkook continues to gaze down at you as he gives into your gesture. “That’s hot,” he mutters. 

This is new. He never talks this much when things start to heat up. Most of the time, you’re tossed looks and expected to decipher his mood, but you’re all too caught up in how gorgeous he is, you can barely understand what he means. Everything is always based on feelings and going with your instincts. But this time, Jungkook’s more vocal. It’s almost as if he’s thinking out loud. 

His wings twitch again. You snap your gaze from his hair to his eyes and find he’s raising a brow. Didn’t you wish you could hear his thoughts too? Could this be his way of granting it to you?

“You know what I like most about you?” He asks as you continue to wash the mud from his hair. Grazing your nails through his scalp, you hum in reply. “You’re incredibly intelligent.” 

Your fingers shudder against his head. The guilt of last night returns. Your sister should be with someone who isn’t afraid of her intelligence either. You should’ve told her not to follow through with this, not to marry Michael.

Jungkook’s hands trail up to your ass, gripping onto the plump flesh. The harsh gesture snaps you back into the moment. You jump a bit and let out a little squeal as your gaze meets his. “I much rather you don’t think of other men when you’re with me,” he groans. 

Fighting off the proud smile tempting your lips, you nod. “Sorry; it won’t happen again.” 

“Better not,” he mutters and that smile finally settles on your lips. “And don’t worry about your sister. She’ll be fine.” 

A part of you wants to question him more about how he knows that, but the death grip he has on your ass and the way he’s looking at you does not leave much room for a sexless conversation. You rather your family stay out of conversations like this with Jungkook. His desire to be the only one in your thoughts makes a bit more sense to you now. 

Smiling, Jungkook inhales deeply through his nose. “You figure things out faster than most people,” he says. 

You kiss the little freckle under his lip to let him know you’re done cleaning his hair. “You spend too much time in my head,” you tease. Instead of in my…  The rest of the sentence twirls in your mind for him to find it. 

As you move to clean his right wing he chuckles and continues, “I’m serious, baby.” He kisses your neck as you stand on your knees and reach for his wing to properly clean it off. “Your mind amazes me. That’s why I spend so much time there.” 

Barriers of the mind fall. They were trembling before but now, with every whispered thought Jungkook voices, you can feel those walls of distance crumble around your inseparable bodies. You’ve always melded perfectly physically and stroked the other’s spirit by caressing your souls, but mental barriers have always halted any real conversation between you and Jungkook. He’s always been able to know your next move, your every thought because of his immortality. And to have the chance to do the same only makes you feel that much closer to him. For this reason, you hope he doesn’t regret opening up to you and giving you a little peek inside his mind. 

Your physical senses shock you back to the moment. His fingers soften their grip on your ass, rubbing it instead and your pussy reactively clenches at that pet name you love so much. Unsteadily inhaling deeply, you move to clean his other wing in silence. You decide you won’t talk this time. Your mind is open to him if he’s looking for your opinion, but tonight you just want to hear his thoughts and be the one tossing unreadable looks. 

Jungkook chuckles against your neck, rolling his shoulders back as you brush your fingers through his wings. His lips trail down to your collarbone. He kisses his way down to your breasts and buries his face between them. Breathing in your scent, he sighs happily and mutters, “This is my favourite thing.”

Your breasts? By the way his hands always settle on your ass and the fact that his first hand-delivered toy was an anal plug, you always just assumed that his favourite feature of yours must be your ass. But you suppose if your breasts-

“Actually, I was talking about the way you smell.”

“It’s called soap,” you tease, earning yourself a light spank. He then bites on your right tit, sucking on the skin just because he can. You giggle and settle yourself back on his lap. Your ass, plush and plump, all but melts over his muscular thighs. 

Jungkook stares at you. His brown eyes are vacant and lost in thought. He quiets under your gaze, only just shifting to pull you closer than you already are. Your pussy frames the length of his cock and you find it increasingly hard to stay still. Trying to read that dazed expression on his face, you wonder what happened with his devotion to thinking out loud. 

Licking his lips, Jungkook finally breaks the silence. “Twenty-three.” He leans towards you turning the two of you back around so his back is against the fountain’s edge again. “I want you in twenty-three different ways, but I don’t think we have time to do all of them.”

You swallow thickly. Grinding your hips into his, you rub your needy pussy against his throbbing erection. Jungkook’s eyes slightly roll back and he has to hold your hips down only to look at you properly again. “Can we make time?” You ask. The desperate cry for more is evident in your voice and you know that, by the quirk of his brow and the shudder of his wings, he’s having trouble saying no. 

“I wish,” he confesses. “My favourite ones take time.” 

His fingers dig into your ass again, hinting at what his favourite positions might be. It’s no surprise that it has to do with your ass, you’re just worried that he’s going to ask for more than you’re ready for. Yes, you may have gotten used to anal plugs over time since he knows how to prep you for them, but his cock is an entirely different game. You are constantly reminded of how those other toys really are just toys because his cock is that uncomparable. 

Jungkook relaxes back against the marble wall and watches you as you salivate over the size of his cock. He doesn’t need to read your mind to know you're terrified of whatever pain may come with it but excited because you’re just that much of a whore for him. 

“You know you don’t have to do it. I have lots of other favourites,” he smirks. 

As your thoughts trail off, he bucks his hips into yours. You breathe moan and clutch onto his shoulders. Every little movement makes you ache for more. A week without a single bit of sexual stimulation, even by yourself, is too long. He never told you that you couldn’t play around alone anymore, but when you have him, why the hell would you play with yourself? You know he’s going to come every night, or at least you hope he is. And the truth is, one he must already know judging by the pleased look in his eyes, even if he had told you he wasn’t coming, you still wouldn’t have touched yourself. Nothing can compare to his touch; you don’t need to try anything else to know this.

A shaky breath escapes Jungkook at your next mental confession. You don't think you were ever really mad at him. You just knew that acting out would get him to come tonight. Jungkook scoffs, looking up at the darkening sky as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

Are you even really sorry? His eyes dart to yours as if wanting to see for himself if your thoughts are true. You don't know if you can answer this question with his eyes on you like that. But, that conclusion seems to be enough of an answer for him. 

He shakes his head and wraps his arms around your waist. Pouting, he asks, “Do you know how worried I was?”

You mirror his expression, drawing a pout in your features as well, and press your chest against his. His breath hitches and body melts into yours, betraying his intentions. Noticing his struggle to stay upset with you, you pepper wet kisses under his chin and along his jawline. 

Jungkook can’t resist you for much longer. He whimpers as his hips grind into yours. Bending at your every touch, he unravels beneath you. A giddy smile breaks your pouty features and it’s only then that he seems to realize how much he’s let himself go in front of you. His grip on your hips hardens. As you kiss up his face, you find his lust-stuck eyes dark with dominance. He hates being vulnerable to your touch this much.

“No, baby,” he rasps. You quirk a brow. “I hate how drunk you get off the power.” 

A proud smirk twitches on the corner of your lips, confirming his words. You’ve barely had taste for the power he’s accusing you of getting drunk off of. However, the fact that you’re able to control him so well with such a small dose fills your heart with pride. 

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“I am?”

There’s a certain cocky pitch in your tone that rings sharply to his ears. His brows twitch, wings flutter, and gaze wavers. He may have been able to look past your exaggerations of dismissal and the way you tease him, but to speak to him with very little regard for his power unleashes something primal within him. You can always tell you’ve really pissed him off when he pouts, clenches his jaw, and breathes so steadily, you can barely hear him. 

Jungkook watches you carefully. “One week without my dick and suddenly you think you own it?” 

“Don’t I?”

A sharp smack lands on your ass. The slow draft of the water does not slow his hands down. In fact, it only increases the sting and accuracy. You gasp and fall forward against him only to be spanked again. Another moan leaves you, this time with your lips hovering over his. Exchanging breathes, a dangerous thought occurs to you. Your lips are over his. What’s to stop you from spit-

He growls. You tremble against him. The purely thunderous rumble in his chest rattles your soul. “I fucking dare you,” he hisses.

Though you want to heed his warning, you can’t help but notice how he keeps his mouth open despite his disapproval. You gather what you have in your mouth and pause for a moment, knowing that he knows what you’re about to do. His mouth remains open. You drop the wad of spit it without a second thought. 

Jungkook swallows it almost immediately. “You’re going to regret that,” he breathes. 

“I highly doubt that,” you smirk.

The cocky persona you seemed to have picked up from him crumbles when his middle finger pushes between your cheeks and circles your tightest hole. His words about his favourite ways to fuck you return to you in distant echoes. You arch your back and push your ass into his hand. His finger threatens to slip in. 

“You’re barely ready,” he scoffs.

Do you harbour reservations based on fears that he just might be too big to fit in your ass? Of course you do; he’s huge. A fact of which he can’t help but always smirk at when you point it out. But, you’re hungry for him and you know that he would never do anything to hurt you. Letting out a shaky breath, you affirm, “I can take it.”

“You aren’t wet enough.”

“Then, change that.”

The continuous authority that drips in your tone has tested his patience for the last time. Reaching a hand out of the fountain, Jungkook grabs for something on the ground. You try to lean over him and sneak a peek at what he’s looking for, but the friction of your clit against his length has you shuddering back in place. 

A little smile breaks Jungkook’s previously callous expression. He pecks your neck and laughs quietly against your skin as he mutters, “You’re adorable.” 

Heat rushes down to your core instead of your face at the little praise. You lean down to press a gentle kiss to his lips when you catch a glimpse of something gold in your peripherals. Glancing up, you find him clutching onto his bow. Before you have the chance to ask what he’s planning, Jungkook only just drops the tip of his bow in to break the surface of the water. A misty rose gold tints the clarity. Little flicks of sparkling gold twinkle back at you as you watch the fountain filter the essence all around you. 

You cautiously meet gaze. He always confirms new things with you before acting on anything, no matter how mad or horny he is. His rash decision to spike the fountain with an unknown substance chills your blood for a second. You start to shift back from him a bit when he breaks the silence. 

“It’s just a lubricant,” he quickly explains. A relieved breath, you didn’t realize you were holding, leaves you. Shifting back against him, you nudge your nose against his. “Sex is a bit different underwater, baby, and I don’t have time to get you as ready as you need to be.” 

A gentle nibble on his lip is all it takes for the rush of the fountain to be the only sound in the silence that settles upon you. His hands guide your hips against his, the fiction much smoother now with that hint of lubrication swirling around. You run a hand through his hand and tug his head back to be greeted with the sweet rumble of his laughter. You can’t help but giggle with him as you place soft kisses along the side of his neck. 

Jungkook quietly moans in little whines and breathless gasps. Every shudder of his wings and furrow of his brows makes you want to rip your dress off and be just as naked and against him. But, then again, there’s something powerful to the taste of being fully clothed and still destroying a man’s composure. You barely have to do anything and Jungkook bends to your every will. You can now understand why he believes you’re so drunk on power, but the truth is you always had this power. He knows this, most likely wanting you to realize it too if he’s the one that suggested you stay clothed. The only difference now is that he’s openly displaying the ways you unravel him rather than keeping it to himself. 

“Do you see what I mean now?” He asks in a breathless whisper. You trail your kiss up to his cheek and moan against it as he continues, “You’re so smart and beautiful and precious.” 

Jungkook pauses, stilling your hips and pulling his face away from yours to look into your eyes. He parts his lips to speak but his words keep falling short somehow. 

His words so far have already ignited an untamable fire not only between your legs, but within your bones as well. He is drenched in every part of you. Shifting to a softer touch, you untangle your fingers from his damp hair and cup his cheeks the same way he had done to you not too long ago. “Go on,” you tease, tossing him a playful look. 

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even smirk. His eyes, though hinted with amusement, continue to be lost in some sort of trance. He knows you’re curious, but keeps this little bit of thought to himself. Lifting your hips, he hovers your entrance over his erection and finally smirks. 

“Beg a little,” he orders. Though his voice barely carries to the other side of the fountain, the authority in his tone is still as clear and hard as it always is.

Your power trip must have really messed with him if he’s having you beg without giving you a good reason to. An annoyed sigh fans against your collarbone as your body continues to hover over his. “Don’t play,” he rasps, “You know that’s not it. I can hear the truth before the lie, darling.”

That’s an unfair advantage but one you don’t mind too much if it means he talks to you like this all the time. He’s right too. You know that’s not what’s got him eager to hear you beg. It’s the way you beg that’s got him eager to fuck you. Clenching around emptiness, needy to be filled and ruined, you whine a tiny “please,” then a string of profanities as his tip strokes its way to your entrance from your clit. 

“Again.”

Back arched, breasts against his bare chest, and hands clutched onto his biceps, you place your lips on the shell of his ear and blow a gentle breeze against it. “Please,” you mewl. 

Jungkook’s hands tremble and he all but drops you on his cock. Pussy in an instant stretch, with very little room to adjust, you cry out in his ear. Though your voice may be broken and pitchy, Jungkook doesn’t flinch. When it comes to you, the usual results never qualify. You are one of a kind, as unique as him. 

His muscles flex under your palms. Hands finding their place on your ass again, Jungkook guides your thrusts. He can practically feel your weakening body with every bounce and grind against him. You know he can. He shows it in every tightening grip on your ass and grunt in his moans. 

The knot in your stomach is already twisting, conspiring against your better judgement on how long you think you can last. You’ve never been able to outlast him, cumming twice before he finally reaches his first orgasm of the night. He’s just so big and hits those right places way before the rest of him can catch up. How he manages to brush up against your softest spots within the first three thrusts will always be beyond your comprehension. He’s just that good. 

The choked moan that leaves him resembles a chuckle. A frustrated whine escapes you. Is he still listening to your thoughts? It’s not like you’re thinking anything he already hasn’t heard you say, or rather scream, but it still somewhat embrassasses you to know that he will always hear how whipped you are for him. 

“Tell me,” you plead with your lips pressed just under his ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

The sparkling water around you begins to splash out of the fountain bowl as Jungkook speeds up the pace of your bounces. Deciding your ass seems to be too much of a distraction to him, you pause mid-thrust and move his hands up to your hips. A shuddering gasp escapes him as you carry on with the bounces at his same pace. Your ass claps in and out of the water, thrashing water all around the ground. 

Jungkook digs his short nails into the flesh of your hips, growling every time you whine at his tightening grip. Forehead against his, you catch his gaze and offer an innocent one. “I’m-” he cuts himself off, realizing how breathless and dazed he sounds. You nuzzle your face into his as a silent attempt to encourage him to continue. “Kiss me,” he begs. 

If you weren’t stuffed full of his cock and extremely enchanted by the way he pretends to sound composed, you would’ve refused to kiss him and insisted that he finish that sentence. And that knot in the pit of your gut only tightens with the grip of your pussy. Pressing your lips against his, you slip your tongue in and let him swallow your moans. 

The moment his tongue tackles yours, your legs quake. Thrusts hesitating, your body begins to spasm against his. Your hands grapple at his shoulder just to ensure you stay a float as your threatening orgasm continues to build. 

“Jungk-” You break the kiss to tell him, to ask as he has taught you over and over again. 

But Jungkook only latches his lips onto yours once more. You gulp down a moan or two of his before he hisses against your lips, “Just fucking cum. Now, kiss me.”

You may have been drunk off power not too long ago, but as you kiss him again, you realize that he is drunk off you. And that’s all it takes for your ograsm to finally rush over you. Jungkook lifts his hips up to meet your stuttering ones. Your lips fall off his. Face buried in the crook of his neck, you cry out his name and cream all over his cock. 

“I’m thinking you’re such a good girl for cumming like this,” he suddenly whispers as you ride out your orgasm. Even with your ears ringing and mind shuddering from the second wave of cum gushing all over his hard, huge cock, you can still hear every dirty praise clearly. “My whore got herself off so well.”

The whine that escapes you from his words alone is borderline pornographic. Jungkook even feels it, arching his back so his chest collides with yours as well. “You’re so sexy,” he whimpers as you babble fountain water by his shoulder from exhaustion. 

Wet, wet, wet; everything is wet. You’re both drenched in lube tinted waters, cum, and your desires. You can’t revel in it though, as the skirts of your dress float the surface and corset clings to your chest all too tightly. You can barely find it in you to breathe, let alone tell him that you need a quick break. 

“No,” he groans, settling you on his thighs. Circling his hips into yours, Jungkook grips onto the nape of your neck to peel you off him. 

Your heart stumbles as your mind races to figure out what you’ve done that was so wrong, he’s wanting to stop the night here. “I’m sorr-”

“You don’t need a break,” he sighs between moans. He sits himself up, his wings extending only to drape over the lip of the fountain’s bowl. All movements underwater cease as he digs his fingers into the bust of your corset. In one swift motion, Jungkook tears the first few laces apart, instantly sending a full batch of oxygen to your lungs. 

Gasping, you gaze down at your torn dress before glaring at him. Maybe with just a wet dress, you could have explained your way out of whatever mess this is going to get you in when you attempt to return to the party. However, a torn dress will not be that easy to explain. You want to glare at him and tell him off but he shoves his face between your now exposed breasts and moans before you’re able to. 

He moves your hands up his shoulders so your arms drape over them, then settles them on his favourite place; your ass. Two of his fingers push between your cheeks and stroke your hole. His touch there is much smoother than before and you suspect that it must be the bow-tipped lube. 

You moan quietly, resting your chin atop his damp head as he kisses and bites at your breasts. Your pussy still hasn’t recovered from your orgasm seconds ago. In fact, truth be told, your entire body is having trouble recuperating after cumming that hard in a week. But you want more of him and he still hasn’t filled you of his godly load yet. And with his fingers circling around your asshole, you can’t deny him the second ride he’s patiently waiting for. 

A slow grind of hips into hips is a good start, you tell yourself. You’ve never really had to deal with this before, since Jungkook would usually just keep pounding into you despite the fact that he knows your limbs are exhausted from one orgasm already. Clenching your jaw, you start to bounce again, ass clapping against his thighs in suppressed thumps underwater. The overstimulated pleasure brings tears to your eyes. You cry out his name and hold onto his wings. 

He groans against your right breast from the contact. You’re about to apologize, knowing his wings are sensitive, when he shoves his fingers into your tightest hole. You freeze and throw your head back from how easily he slipped in and how fucking good it feels. Jungkook scissors his fingers within you, peeking a glance up from between your breasts. 

“Are you okay, baby?” he slurs. He licks up the valley of your breasts, holding your gaze shamelessly. 

“Mhm,” you mewl. 

Resuming your thrusts, you feel your tears run down your face freely. You don’t even have it in you to wipe them away. Your hands, instead, centre around his back. You scratch at it for a bit until you feel him add a finger. Moans tumble into his wet hair as your fingers trail up the length of his spine. 

Jungkook stiffens. A choked groan tears from his throat and he hides his face further into your breasts. They bounce around his cheeks with each hop on his cock. Too consumed by your own overstimulated pleasure to dwell much thought on his movements, or lack thereof, you mindlessly repeat the action. You stroke his spine once more and then you hear it. 

He sobs a moan.

You still your hips, looking down at him. As you run a hand through his hair, you’re about to ask if he’s okay when the whooshing flutter of wings obscures your vision. One second, you’re straddling his lap with his fingers in your ass. The next, you’re the one submerged in the water with him hovering over you. Wings fully extended, face stained with tears, Jungkook makes sure your arms are resting over his shoulders like before then takes up a deadly speed of thrusts into you. 

His speed defies the laws of physics, hips moving much faster than they should underwater. Half the fountain is on the ground from the force of his movement. All you can do is sob with him as your body becomes his only source of pleasure. 

What’s gotten into him? He doesn’t even have an interest in your ass anymore, hands locked in a death-like grip on your hips. In a moment of pure animalistic pleasure, you just wish you knew what’s running through his head. 

“You,” he growls in a pout. “You’re all I think about, you fucking whore. You’re all I can ever think about.” He swallows thickly before continuing, “You can’t go one second without thinking of me and now all I can hear is your voice. All the time; it’s you, you, you.”

You don’t know if you should apologize or cum from the simple confession alone. His voice, his words, his entire fucking attitude has you aching to cum all over again. 

Jungkook stumbles over his chuckles. “You just love seeing me like this, huh? You love seeing me worship you, baby?” 

Worship. Does he want you to cum that badly that he’s willing to lie? You both know he doesn’t worshi-

A sharp thrust derails your thoughts. Your eyes roll back as you moan out his name. 

“You’re my goddess,” he confesses. “You’re my only goddess.”

He repeats the phrase over and over again until that’s all that rings in your ear, in your heart, in your soul. His release paints your tightening walls. The knots within your gut have unraveled long ago and it’s only when your blurred vision somewhat clears and convulsing body trickles into tremors do you realize that you’ve both cum together to the words he’s still repeating. 

Voice a tiny, gruff whisper, Jungkook whispers, “My goddess.”

He’s serious. He must be. He truly worships you. The tears in his eyes, the break in his voice, the truth is clear and just as starkly bare as he is between your legs. His eyes suddenly flash with worry, almost as if he’s recognized what he’s said. He meant what he said, you realize, but he never meant to say it. 

Jungkook gingerly pulls out of you as you try to seat yourself up. You pull your legs into your chest and watch him take a seat beside you. He leans his head back against the rim of the fountain and gazes up at the sky. You follow his gaze, noticing it’s gotten much darker out, the silver stream of stars piercing an indigo backdrop no more. A midnight black cloaks the world above you, a crescent moon lighting up your night and an array of stars twinkling down at you. Though your mind is still foggy from your recent orgasms, body still shuddering, you can’t help but think about his words. What makes him think you belong up there, amongst true gods and goddesses? 

His wings twitch as they tuck themselves behind him. You know that combination well. He’s hiding something. Usually, you don’t ask, knowing he will only deflect the topic and shower you with attention and praises instead. But, his spoken thoughts are now looping around your mind, begging to be answered. 

“Jungkook,” you mutter, shifting closer to him. Face still stained with tears, he forces himself to look at you. The questions are on the tip of your tongue; what, why, when? However, as you part your lips all you can bring yourself to say is, “I didn’t hear anything.”

You’re my goddess. 

The words return with ten times the force they previously held. It’s almost like denying their existence is just as blasphemous as saying them. You swallow thickly and try to extract the words from your mind, but it's too late. They are as entrenched in your bones as your affection for him is. There is no undoing what has been done. 

You bring a hand up to his face and wipe away the stray tears. He melts into you almost immediately. Maybe it’s best if you return to the party now. You can make up some excuse as to why you’re drenched and torn on your way there. Jungkook’s state is all but worrying and you feel as though you shouldn’t be witnessing this. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he finally says. His voice has regained composure and tone controlled. No more does he choke on his words or laughter. The authority he indirectly bestowed upon you has been returned to him. 

You should tell him you’re done, that he shouldn’t say things he doesn’t mean to. You should tell him that he shouldn’t play with your feelings or your heart like this. But, again, the words wither away the moment you part your lips to voice them. And, instead, you ask, “How do you want me?”

Jungkook smirks. His hands snake around your hips and lift you up onto his lap. Back to his chest, you make yourself comfortable, leaning into him. He pushes the excess fabric of your dress aside just to get you as close as possible. Then, you feel it against your ass, pushing its way between your cheeks. His erection is just as hard as when you started. It’s no wonder why he’s not done with you yet. You suppose he didn’t just confess something he can’t take back only to still leave with a full hard-on. 

“I thought you didn’t hear anything,” he whispers in your ear as his hands cup the underside of your thighs. 

You nervously look at him over your shoulder. “I didn’t.”

He chews on your earlobe, warm tongue caressing your jaw. “I should stop thinking about it,” he whimpers against your skin. “I should stop thinking about you.”

I’m not a goddess, you want to tell him. But, by the way he sucks in a sharp breath, you can tell he’s heard and isn’t impressed. He opens his mouth to say something, maybe to scold you for degrading yourself, or to correct you. The words never arrive. 

Jungkook shakily exhales. No more trips into his thoughts it would seem. He remains silent as he spreads your legs and swiftly lifts you up. You expect another harsh round into your pussy but his tip shoves its way through your asshole instead. Throwing your head back, you try to suppress your scream by holding your breath. 

It doesn’t hurt as much as it usually does during the first initial thrust of a toy. Whatever he tinted the water with must be the result of a smooth entrance, and a deliciously blissful stretch. You let out a breath you held, along with a loud, high-pitched squeal. Jungkook folds you up well, holding the bend of each knee into your chest as he continues to slowly lower you onto him. 

Once you finally take him all in, you settle your entire body back into him. Shuddering breaths, drifting eyes, you hold him deep within you and try not to completely lose yourself in a fit of moans and pleads. You don’t even know what you’d be begging for, just that a string of “pleases” will leave you. 

Are you getting bigger, you mentally ask. 

He chuckles and shakes his head as his nose nuzzles into your cheeks. He can’t get enough. Inhaling you deeply, you realize that he can’t get enough of you. He even said so in so many words. And you don’t have much of a problem with that considering you can’t ever get enough of him either. You’ve consumed all of his thoughts it would seem and he’s even lost himself to you so much so that he’s declared you his one and only god-

“Fuck!” 

The stream of the fountain rushes down on your clit. He holds you straight beneath it as his hips move up and down against your ass. You’re at his total mercy, every thought of ever being in control a complete joke. You rest your head against his shoulders, trembling hands placed over his as a desperate attempt to control yourself.

Your first water wave induced orgasm hits you within seconds. You don’t know for sure, but you’re all but certain that you’re cumming. Your eyes have been screwed shut for a while, and body shaking since this endeavor in the fountain began. Only when you try to close your legs do you confirm that you indeed came.

Jungkook keeps them open though. He ignores your pathetic scratches on his knuckles as you try to explain to him that it’s all just too fucking much for you to take. “Just let me cum,” he tries to soothe between little hushes and murmurs about how good you’re taking his cock. 

But then your second orgasm from the fountain hits and you can’t stop squirming in his hold. He keeps you folded and under the water’s subjection nonetheless, somehow even cooling the temperature down. As you shiver under the cold rush, Jungkook positions you higher against him so that the water pours into you instead. You realize, pussy clean of his cum now, that you’re getting fucked by a fountain; a fountain that he controls. And you fucking love it. 

Then, there’s the fullness of your ass. Every inch of you is his. If you’re his goddess, he must know that he’s your god. Your one and only. 

“Careful,” he warns against your thoughts. 

You have an assful of his cock in you, getting off more times than you can both count in a fountain that does not belong to either of you; when have the two of you ever been careful? In fact, your recklessness is what brought you together. Had he not seen you on your balcony every night, he might not be here at all. Carelessness runs in your veins, laced in your tone as you cry out, “You’re my god!”

The clouds rumble above you. The heavens can warn all they want. Interrupting sexual endeavors would do them more harm than it would do you. 

“If you want to cum, you’ll behave,” Jungkook hisses. His thrusts suddenly snap into something primal. 

Your body bounces every time, water rushing down your clit once more. This time you feel your orgasm build, and fast. Toes curling, eyes rolling to the back of your head, you hold onto every twisting, clenching knot at the pit of your stomach. 

“Ask!”

“Please?”

A particular ram into your ass lets you know that half-hearted plea won’t get you very far. He doesn’t deign to repeat himself. Instead, he lets his harsh movements and bone-rattling growls speak for him. 

“Please let me cum, Jungkook, please.”

“Again.”

“Please, please, please, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t say it. But you feel it. You feel the approval in the form of a gentle kiss against your ear. Hips a craze, rolling against the wave, you clench your jaw and try to channel all your pleasure in a high-pitched moan rather than the cry your lungs are desperate to let out. Your cum gushes then, juices squirt seconds later. Entire body on fire, under the scrutiny of the stream as you try and fail to recollect yourself. You’re shattered, ruined, obliterated by his cock and this fountain of fantasies. 

“That’s a good girl,” he coos. “That’s my good girl.”

His. His. Gods, the things you would do to be his always, not just under the cover of the night. Jungkook releases your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist as he grounds your ass over his hips. Load after load shoots within you, making your giggle and shake with ecstasy at the filling sensation of being stuffed so well. 

“Ah-yah, baby,” he groans in a scowl against your jawline. “You’ve got the tightest little hole for me, hmm? If you weren’t so exhausted, I’d have us do this all over again.”

Exhaustion. Yes, that’s what you’re feeling. With your mind foggy and broken from the countless orgasms he’s sent through you, you can barely find it in you to breathe, let alone think to go for another round. Your body’s only excuse for staying afloat is the winged god behind you. He clutches onto you as if his only reason for surviving is you. And judging by his previous confession, that very well might be the case. 

Jungkook rests back against the fountain’s edge once he’s done. Gasping for air, he continues to hold onto you, kissing your shoulder mindlessly. “I never really know how much I miss you until I have you,” he whispers. His teeth graze your supple skin. 

Body limp, you can’t find it in you to reply. All you can think is after he pulls out, he’s going to fly back to Gods know where and leave you to hobble back to the party alone. After all, isn’t that how every night ends? You two share a passionate few moments, both have out of body experiences when orgasming, then you fall asleep and he sneaks away. What’s to say this night won’t be any different?

“I thought I told you to trust me?”

“I do.”

He scoffs. You don’t blame him. Your words are hardly convincing. It has nothing to do with the fact that you just came five or six different times. It’s the lack of commitment in your tone that tips him off. You hear it too. You really do trust him. He’s just let you down too many times to count. 

“What more do I need to do? I’m with you every chance I get.” 

Exhaustion. It’s not a physical one, not the one you’re still recovering from. It’s one of the mind. He’s exhausted with this back and forth. You are too. This isn’t exactly what you thought your first relationship would look like. 

He pauses, body freezing beneath you. 

Oh, right. He’s in your mind. He heard that. Is that not what this is, though? Isn’t this a relationship?

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say it,” You repeat, looking at him over your shoulder. 

Jungkook starts to soften in you. You’ve really set him off now. He lifts you up and off his cock, sitting you on his thigh and ignoring the way you hiss and whine at the discomfort. You turn to glare at him over your shoulder only to find him already glaring at you. 

“Do you want me to come back?”

Is he threatening you? “Do I have to remind you who came here begging-”

“You lied!” He cuts you off with a shout. 

“You knew that, though. You knew I was lying,” you point out, a pout starting to overtake your features. “You came because you missed me.”

���That’s never been a secret.”

“Say it then, Jungkook. Say this is a relationship.”

He falls silent. His once annoyed eyes can’t even meet yours. 

“I know you’re jealous of Lee Ky-”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffs. Shaking his head, he forces himself to meet your gaze. 

Sad tears vary drastically from blissful ones. Tears of bliss soothe the pleasure and make it bearable. Tears of sadness sting your eyes, pierce your heart and shed any part of you that can make such a situation bearable. Sad tears only remind you of your pain. 

Your eyes sting with despair as he regards you with such frustration. Emptying your mind, discarding all thoughts, you ask, “Are you coming tomorrow?”

Jungkook sighs, but not a beat of hesitance affects his answer. “Of course.”

You raise a brow. See?

“Fine. This is a relationship,” he mutters. “What does that change?”

Nothing. It hasn’t changed a thing. You don’t even feel any different, any better. Maybe it’s because you forced it out of him? You don’t know. The tears only fall faster though, and you can’t bear to look at him. Your heart’s conflicted, shattered and replaced all at once because, though he is the cause of your tears, his presence is also the only thing soothing them. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your temple over his. 

You can at least relish in his company for a few moments longer. And his scent, that intoxicating waft of creamy coconut and sweet peony orchards returns now that all that mud and grime has been washed off. The scent is comforting enough for you to relax in his arms and forget your pain for a second. 

“That’s not what I smell like,” he whispers. You tilt your head away to get a better look at him. A little smirk tugs on the corner of his lip as he says, “It’s what you smell like.”

Impossible. He’s always smelled like at the end of every night. You’d cuddle into his chest and inhale a breathful of the tropical scent. How could that be what you smell like if he reeks of it? The knowing look in his eyes is enough of a hint for you to realize you know the answer. He’s dripping with your essence every night because he spent the night in you. You wonder if you smell like him too. 

He sighs, circling his arms lazily around your waist. He deeply inhales your skin, smiling against it, but doesn’t answer your mentally posed question. Damp hair clinging to the sides of your faces, you settle in the other’s company. One of his hands rises from the water and wipes away your tears. As you sniffle, he whispers, “I promise I’m-”

“Doing the best you can,” you croak, finishing his sentence with him. 

Yes, yes. You’ve heard it all before. You don’t think he’s lying, your Eros is no liar. You do believe that he is, in fact, doing the best he can. But if his best is only a few hours every night, you’re not sure you can accept that. And, yet, you also can’t find it in you to truly, with all your heart, reject it as well. 

He needs to prove his devotion to you in another way. A risky thought then tiptoes into your mind. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you take a deep breath and ask, “Could you do me a tiny favour?”

Jungkook’s hesitant to meet your gaze. He glances at you through his peripherals, otherwise keeping his gaze locked on your breasts. Whether he’s trying to distract himself or not, you still push them out a bit in hopes that they will grant you the “yes” you’re hoping to hear.

He nods. 

With a little kiss upon his cheek, you stroke his shoulder with the soft tips of your fingers and ask, “Would you please escort me to my sister’s wedding?”

He turns his head away from you. Staring across at the other side of the garden, Jungkook withdraws from you. His hands fall off your frame as he heavily sighs. You press yourself against him, trying to regain his attention but he only shakes his head. 

“Acting cute won’t make this any easier,” he grumbles. 

You huff and slouch against him. “How about just the rehearsal dinner?” You try to negotiate. When he rolls his eyes, you quickly add, “I’ll be stuck with Kyon and honestly I don’t think I handle another minute of his incorrect reilieration about history.” 

Jungkook snaps his head towards you at the mention of another man. You cock a brow to which he only scoffs at. “You’re being obnoxious,” he seethes. “And unbelievably selfish.”

“So?” you question before you can stop yourself. His words sting, slicing through your confidence all too easily. There isn’t much room for thinking and even if there was, he would be listening to them anyways. So, you might as well say what you want out loud. “Was it not selfish of you to make me wait-”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m not going to repeat myself, (Y/N). You can’t keep telling me that you trust me only to keep bringing this up. I was busy. You had to wait. It didn’t kill you.” 

Your tears have returned. He rolls his eyes at the sight. Whatever remnants of your heart you thought you had has been obliviated. “You make me feel so loved,” you whisper as your hands retract from his body. 

Jungkook’s expression disarms all hostility. His eyes reflect regret but you’ve heard, seen all you need to. 

“But why do you only make me feel this way when we’re naked?”

“You’re not naked,” he’s quick to reply. 

It’s your turn to scoff. How can a god be this dense? “Aren’t I, though? Tell me, Jeon Jungkook, whose thoughts are open for the other to hear? Who is the one waiting, praying for the other’s attention? Who has been bare since first glance on the stupid balcony you left last night?”

Before he couldn’t meet your eye out of disinterest, but now he avoids your gaze out of guilt. Yes, you’ve been obnoxious, selfish, maybe even a little entitled. However, you’ve had a god to yourself for months. You’ve had endless moments of ecstasy that only end in soft cuddles and whispered sweet nothings into the night. Is wanting that attention when the sun hasn’t set yet too much to ask? 

Jungkook parts his lips to reply when his eyes suddenly shoot up. He sits up, almost knocking you off his lap and snaps his head towards the very pathway you came from. 

“(Y/N)!” 

You gasp upon hearing your mother’s voice. The clicks of her heels draw further towards you and before you can look at Jungkook and ask what you should do, what you should say, you’re thrown into the fountain. 

Ice cold waves engulf you as you inhale a good chunk of the fountain. Your lungs burn from the accidental intake of water. You only just get your hands under you and sit yourself up and out of the water as quickly as you can. Familiar shouts ring in the distance. Coughing up the fountain, you push your hair back and look around the garden. 

Your mother is staring at you in utter shock, screaming at you to come out but refusing to help you herself. As you try to lift yourself up, you find the water has returned to its usual clarity and that Jungkook is nowhere to be found. He seriously left you to almost drown in the fountain by yourself? He’d be lucky to get more than a kiss from your tomorrow night. You can’t believe he has the audacity to yell at you then let you there like that. In a fit of anger, you send a lashing string after lashing string of profanities to him in the form of a prayer. 

“Miss (L/N)!”

Your blood chills. Hands on the lip of the fountain, you turn towards his voice. Fully dressed in a dark blue suit, his wings nowhere to be found, and dry hair pulled back a neat ponytail, Jungkook rushes over to you. His strong hands settle on your waist before he effortlessly scoops you out.

All you can do is stare. Mouth agape, eyes vacant, you try to figure out why the hell he made himself all presentable and left you looking like a mess. You want to whisper your profanities and swear that he will never touch your ass for leaving you in such a mess, but all you can find yourself saying is, “Mr. Jeon.”

His eyes shoot to the sky as your mother rushes towards you. Nothing is making sense and you only wish you can read his mind to know what to do next. 

“Goodness, (Y/N),” your mother hisses as she rushes towards you. “Cover yourself!”

Looking down at your bust, you gasp. Oh, right, he tore it. Crossing your arms over your chest, you look up at him and glare. But Jungkook only takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. It’s only when you feel your mother’s arms around you do you realize that you’re shivering. 

“What have you done to yourself now?” she whispers in your ear. 

Her eyes then settle on Jungkook. That look graces her face. That look of assessment. She’s scanning the unknown god up and down, looking for signs of wealth, status, and reliability. It doesn’t take her long to innocently smile and fall victim to his beauty, “Thank you kindly, Mr. Jeon.”

He bows his head then turns to you and says, “I told you not to sit on the edge.” Jungkook fakes a polished chuckle. He shakes his head at you when your eyes narrow at him. “I told her, Mrs. (L/N), I told her the marble is slippery. But, Miss (L/N) just had to get a better look at those flowers.”

You glance back at the fountain with your mother, finding an array of tiger lilies floating in the bowl. All this trouble to explain why you’re wet? You look back at him cautiously and wonder what the end of this conversation is meant to look like. 

“Yes, she loves flowers,” your mother sighs. She then sets her sights on Jungkook once more and asks, “Jeon… I’m not sure I know of the Jeons. Are you from out of town?”

Jungkook charms your mother instantly with that kind, toothy smile of his. He nods and compliments her quick wits, to which she laughs, then explains, “I’m visiting for the wedding.”

The wedding? Does that mean?

“Miss (L/N) invited me. I’m rather glad to have run into you, Mrs. (L/N) as I was hoping to ask permission to escort your daughter to the wedding.”

One of your hands, previously covering your right breast, shoots up to cover your mouth out of utter shock. Did he orchestrate all this just to agree to your favour? You hope you haven’t guilted him into it. You’ve done that to get him here and admit to your relationship; you already regret doing that. You just hope he’s acting on his own accord right now. 

Jungkook shoots you a wink as your mother fixes the jacket so that your uncovered breast is concealed once more. Sighing of relief, you offer him a grateful smile. 

“Are you sure?” Your mother suddenly asks, looking back to Jungkook. “(Y/N) is the one you want to escort?”

He glances at you and smiles. “Miss (L/N) the one and only thing I’m always sure about.”

Your mother raises a brow at you. She smells something fishy, knows something is off about this entire encounter. You watch her carefully as she looks between you and Jungkook. And when you expect her to refuse, to lecture you in front of him, your mother adopts an opposite approach. She smiles upon the two of you and shifts you closer to Jungkook. 

“I would be delighted to have you escort my daughter, Mr. Jeon,” she beams. “Do you mind walking (Y/N) to the carriages? I cannot let her go back and drip all over the Barbury’s rugs.” 

Jungkook offers you his elbow, returning your mother’s smile. “It would be my pleasure.” 

You stumble towards Jungkook, your mother practically pushing you into him. With a shaky hand, you take his arm and let him guide you out of the maze. After a turn or two within the tall hedges, you part your lips to ask him what he thinks he’s doing. 

However, Jungkook fills the silence before you can. “I’ll buy you an entire bouquet of lilies, darling. Just promise me to never fall into a fountain again,” he laughs, exaggerating the volume of his voice. 

This time, you pick up on his hints and realize that your mother must still be close by if he’s still putting up such an act. “I promise it won’t happen again, Mr. Jeon,” you innocently reply. 

A smirk, you know is real, graces his features. He walks you around the manor and to the front of the house before breaking out of this noble character of his. “I think she bought it. Your mother is a very suspicious woman.”

You scoff. “That’s just one of many titles she holds,” you mumble under your breath. As you walk towards your family’s carriage, you can’t help but ask, “Why did you do that?”

Jungkook stops you before the door and takes both your hands in his. Those amused eyes linger around your exposed breasts. He chuckles a bit at the way you arch your back to keep them there, making you giggle along with him. 

“Are you happy?”

You pause. Is that why he did this? To make you happy?

“Are you?”

He gives you a pointed look. “Answer the question, (Y/N).”

“Are you just doing this to make me happy, Jungkook?” You ask instead. “Because I will go back to her and tell her that we were both in that fountain and-”

“So what if I am?” He cuts you off. “I want you to be happy, (Y/N). Why is that so wrong?”

It’s not. There’s nothing wrong with him wanting you to be happy. But you want him to be happy with his decision. You’ve forced him into admitting things and meeting you. You don’t want to force him into this too. You want him to want to take you, to want to be with you. That is what true happiness is to you. It’s Jungkook unconditionally wanting you the way you unconditionally want him. 

Jungkook cups your face. Leaning his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I’m sorry I make you think I don’t want you just as much as you want me.” His nose brushes against yours, hitching your breath as he presses himself against you and continues in a breathy whisper, “Watching you cry breaks me in ways I can’t describe. And being the reason for your tears just destroys me, (Y/N). I’ll do anything to see you smile again.” 

Then, he presses his lips upon yours, reaching for the carriage door behind you. When he pulls away, he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, ushering you into your seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, baby,” he smiles. 

You’ve misjudged him for the third time tonight. Thinking he doesn’t care for you, thinking he left you, and thinking he doesn’t want you. All you can do now is pray that he forgives you for all the curses you’ve hurled his way. 

He chuckles and places kisses on both your hands. “It was very amusing actually.” 

You nod. “I’m sure.” But, you’re still sorry. 

With one last round of kisses over your knuckles, Jungkook promises, “I won’t be late.”

“I’ll be waiting regardless,” you immediately reply. 

The next three words are on the tip of your tongue. He can almost hear them, judging by the twitch of his brows. You don’t have a chance to say them though as he clears his throat and shuts the door. You watch him from the window, shakily exhaling. 

Jungkook calls the coachmen. The carriage jerks forward. The lasting image of his smirk, those sweet eyes and that muscular frame is all you try to see. However, in seconds, he’s pulled from view. The only memory you have of him remains with that sacrilegious confession in a fountain of fantasies. 

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

[amjustagirl]

Summary: She wonders if Akaashi Keiji could be her forever, (but then in the silence, her heart breaks).

Pairing: Akaashi x reader, Yaku x reader

Sequel here

AO3 Link here 

She meets Akaashi at an office mixer for magazine staff – he, an up and coming editor in the manga department, she, a translator for two languages.

Their paths meet when she spills a drink on his shoes (honestly, large crowds were never her forte) and her interest is immediately piqued when he smiles at her calmly and tells her he never liked that pair of shoes anyway. Then they start bumping into each other at work. She learns he drinks a prodigious amount of coffee – always black, from the number of times she catches him bent over the vending machine in the pantry. He saves her from the wrath of the printing machine when she forgets to remove the staples from her papers again.

‘We should go out for dinner’, she tells him, because she’s been taught to get out there and chase what she wants (and she rather likes the broadness of his shoulders and the patience in his eyes), and while he’s mildly taken aback, he agrees. She takes him for dumplings in a greasy diner, practically a hole in the wall, and is gratified when he doesn’t seem to mind that she eats almost as much as he. He doesn’t agree to let her pay for him – she tries to insist because she’s the one who asked, after all – but he does agree to split the bill.

He brings her to his favourite bookstore the following week, and they sit in a nook with their respective books and share a pot of tea. She discovers his dry sense of humour through long conversations about any and everything. He admires the contours of her mind when she rambles about work in three languages to him.

Months pass – and by the year’s end, he asks her to move in with him.

They find a flat a few stops from work. It’s small, but he manages to squeeze in a sprawling bookshelf groaning with the weight of his books, and she stuffs it full of knick knacks she stole from her parents’ home. They walk to work and leave for home together.

They spend nights on the couch sharing pots of tea, he - buried in his work, she - immersed in music, and on weekends they explore parks and bookstores and restaurants and museums. They discuss heatedly whether to adopt a cat or dog (she prefers the former, he prefers the latter) and talk about the possibility of buying a house in a year or two.

She begins to think that this could be her forever, and wonders if he feels the same.

‘Are you really dating Akaashi-san?’, Hana-chan from accounting asks curiously over lunch one day.

‘Yes’, she answers with a slight frown. ‘Why?’

‘You two seem so formal with each other’, Hana titters. ‘If he didn’t send you flowers ever Friday, any one watching you both would assume you’re just friends.’

‘Keiji is just reserved’, she defends him heatedly, ‘He’s affectionate enough in private with me.’

Hana laughs at her frown - ‘I’m sure, I’m sure - it’s just strange to find someone so shy about their love in this day and age’.

Hana isn’t wrong per se - she remembers an incident in their early days of dating when she tried to hold his hand and steal a kiss from him, but Keiji avoided her grasp and muttered a firm ‘not in public, dear’. Still, she tells herself she doesn’t mind that, her heart is warm enough from the gentle kisses he presses to her face in the comfort of their little home.

‘Busy, busy Keiji’, she says, a teasing lilt in her tone. ‘It’s time to go home’.

‘I still have work to do tonight’, he frowns down at the page in his hand. ‘I��ll meet you at home?’

‘Sure’, she chirps. ‘I’ll have a cup of tea waiting for you when you get home’.

‘I actually prefer coffee’, he replies, an embarrassed flush on his face. ‘I can’t keep awake with just tea’.

‘You’re going to continue working at home?’ She tilts her head to look at him confusedly, because yes - deadlines are tight in the publishing industry, but Keiji’s just powered through a major submission and is up for a promotion because of it - so it doesn’t make sense that he’s still so busy. ‘Rest is important, Keiji’.

‘I know but I asked for extra assignments - I thought I should challenge myself’.

It’s her turn to frown. ‘Oh’, she says, and her disappointment must be evident in her face because he turns to catch her arm. ‘Work is important, darling. Surely you understand.’ He gives her a slight smile. ‘I promise I’ll make it up to you when all of this ends’. ‘

Alright’, she says, trying to smooth her frown from her face. ‘I shan’t be mad since you promised so nicely’, she jokes half-heartedly and heads off alone.

The flat is cold and empty. She hums to herself to fill the silence as she fixes herself a cup of tea.

‘Working late again?’ she asks.

He’s crouched over his desk in the office, multiple cups of coffee and stacks of paper marked in red strewn everywhere. The smudges beneath his eyes are a darker purple than she remembers, the skin of his hands almost translucent beneath the harsh office light and scarlet ink stains.

‘Mm’, he nods. His eyes do not leave the page.

‘I’ll see you later?’ she offers, and leaves when he offers no reply.

She leans her forehead on the sofa (ignoring how it’s too big for her alone) and plays the songs her mother used to sing until she feels like she’s home.

‘You’re working yourself too hard’, she tells him on another late night.

‘I’ve got work to do’ he responds, blinking owlishly up at her as if he can’t believe she doesn’t understand. She does – really, but it’s raining and she doesn’t want to walk home alone.

‘Work can wait’, she tries again, running her hand along his arm, frowning as he shrugs her off.

‘Not here’, he tells her firmly. ‘Not anywhere’, she can’t help but think to herself.

A car splashes her with rainwater as it drives by. She stands under the scalding hot shower for far too long, telling herself it’s because she’s trying to scrub the dirt marks off her legs (and definitely not because she’s hiding the tears sliding down her face). There’s an ache beneath her ribs that she can’t acknowledge (because if she does, it means the crack in her heart is real), so she sings her favourite songs to herself until she can pretend she’s ok.

‘I’m home’, he calls to her, his voice echoing in the flat.

‘Keiji!’ she bounces into the hallway to greet him, but the thick stack of paper he draws out of his briefcase makes her heart sink. ‘Oh well’, she thinks to herself, and does what she always does when she’s alone - puttering around the kitchen, humming songs with a cheerful melody. But when she fetches him a cup of tea, she notices a furrow in his brow, traces the downward slant of his mouth, hears the harsh tap of his slim fingers against his desk.  

‘Is everything ok?’ She approaches him cautiously, placing her hand on his shoulder. ‘You seem a little tense.’

‘Everything's fine, I just can’t focus when you’re making so much noise’, he says curtly.

‘I’m sorry’, she offers contritely, flinching inwardly at the lines of irritation appearing on his face. ‘But it’s the weekend, Keiji. Surely you can take some time off work?’

‘No, I can't. You wouldn’t understand’, he responds, waving her off dismissively.

‘We haven’t spent much time together in a while. Maybe we can go for dinner tonight?’, she persists, ignoring the pain sharpening in her chest. 

‘I said I can’t, I have work’, he snaps at her, not noticing when she takes an involuntary step back. ‘You obviously don’t understand.’

‘I do understand’, she tells him quietly, because she does - she’s not some flunky working in a dead-end job – for heaven’s sake they’re professionals in the same industry. She wouldn’t be in line for promotion at the end of the year if she weren’t herself adept at managing the stress of impending deadlines and an overwhelming workload - but he does not respond.

So she stays silent. And in the absence of sound, she can hear her heart break.

She has vacation days to spare, so she packs her bags and moves out into her sister’s place.

It’s a little sad how easy it is to avoid Keiji’s notice since he’s never at home. He must notice when she’s gone though because he tries calling her the day after – once, twice, and by the third time she sends a single text – ‘it’s over. Please don’t contact me again’, and promptly blocks his number. But he’s persistent, waiting by her desk with a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers when she heads back to work.

‘Talk to me’, he begs, and she suppresses the urge to tell him that she tried, goddamnit - but she’s done, please go away and leave her alone, but his face is drawn and his eyes are bloodshot, and she reminds herself – this is Keiji, the man she fell in love with over plates of dumplings and shared pots of tea, the man she once believed could be her forever, and agrees to meet him for lunch on the weekend.

‘But not now’, she says, unable to resist a parting shot – ‘work is very important to you after all’.

She regrets it immediately when she sees his shoulders stiffen and something in his eyes break.

They arrange to meet at the café in his favourite bookstore. She turns up five minutes early but finds he’s already there waiting. He orders coffee – black, without sugar, and she gets tea with a slice of cake.

‘Come home to me. Please. I miss you’, he blurts out, looking at her with pleading eyes.

‘I can’t do that’, she says, shaking her head because their flat hasn’t felt like home for so long – no, not in the absence of sound, the silence so still she heard her heart break.

‘I can fix this’, he promises desperately. ‘I’ll stop working so hard, I’ll come home for dinner with you - it’ll be just like what we used to do, and we’ll be happy again’.

‘Keiji’, she says, a sad smile on her face. ‘There’s nothing left to fix. Can you honestly promise you won’t end up resenting me - resenting us - when exciting assignments and promotions pass you by, because you feel obliged to split your time between work and me?’

‘I could never resent you’, he tells her brokenly. ‘Never.’

‘Don’t lie to me, Keiji’, she replies tiredly. ‘You and I both know you love your work more than you love me’.

He shakes his head in denial, eyes red and glassy and she stops him with a finger to his trembling lips before she continues, the words bitter in her mouth - 'It’s ok to admit that you fell out of love with me. I should have realised that a long time ago. You deserve to find someone you love more than your work, and I deserve to find someone who’ll put me first’.

At this, he lets out a quiet cry, and she can hear her heart crack open again. But the sad truth is she knows it’s over – has been over ever since she’s allowed her heart to be burnt slowly by his neglect, the ashes building up in her chest.

‘I’m sorry, Keiji’, she turns to leave, a bittersweet smile twisting her lips. ‘It's time to let each other go’.

To his credit, he doesn’t pester her at work, though he sends her flowers every Friday – pink camellias for longing, violets for devotion, forget-me-nots for obvious reasons, and she draws the line when he starts to send her red roses (for love), sending him a strongly worded note to let her go. He finally stops, and she’s relieved when he takes her advice and asks out a girl from the publishing department – a peach blossom girl, thoroughly gentle and sweet and soft spoken. She tells herself she’s happy for him.

Still – there’s a dull ache in her chest when she sees them share an umbrella together when they leave work, a poisoned whisper in her mind wondering why she wasn’t quite enough for him, and an awkwardness when she bumps into either of them - especially that awful time she got stuck in the lift with said peach blossom girl, neither woman quite knowing where to look. It's enough to push her to resign right after she collects her bonus.

She’s always dreamed of joining the diplomatic corps, and luckily, since she’s fluent in Russian, it’s easy enough for her to land a posting with the Japanese embassy in Moscow. So she chops her hair (she hears that’s what break-ups make girls do), packs her bags and gets on a flight to her next adventure.

Moscow is as colourless and dreary as she imagined, so she wouldn’t have thought a quiet shade of brown might catch her eye as it does when the Japanese embassy hosts a party during New Year’s Day and she meets one Yaku Morisuke, a libero playing in the Russian Volleyball Super League, and from what she hears, a vital member of the Japanese National team.

She can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of déjà vu when she bumps into him and spills her drink all over his shoes, but it’s eased when he shoots her a wide grin and tells her not to worry even though it’s his favourite pair of shoes.

‘You can teach me Russian over dinner as payment instead’, he tells her cheekily, and he takes her for Russian dumplings, full of beef and pork and potatoes. ‘It’s a little strange but it’s the closest thing I can find to home’, he says, eyes bright. He lets her pay the bill, but insists she let him pay when they go out again.

‘Are we going out again?’ She teases, and feels her heart skip a beat when he pouts at her with puppy-dog eyes. To no one’s surprise, they meet for a second date, then a third, and their days together soon blends into happy memories of ice skating and dumplings and steaming cups of tea.

‘Why don’t you move in with me’, Yaku asks her matter of factly through a mouthful of rice, at the end of her tirade about her awful landlord who just tried to double her rent in less than a year.

Her mouth opens and closes as she processes the thought and her mind moves into overdrive, worrying she’s moving too fast, falling too fast (the spectre of the trainwreck that was her and Keiji buzzing at the back of her mind) - but then she realises she’s being unfair to him.

Because Yaku - or Mori as she now calls him, is nothing like him. He’s short (though she’d never admit it), whereas Keiji is tall. Quick tempered to Keiji’s calm temperament. But more importantly, he delights in spending time with her even after a long, hard day at work, humming contentedly to the songs she sings, and he never shies away from affection - relishes it, rather, pulling her close with the edges of her woollen scarf to kiss her openly on the street.

‘Come on’, he wheedles. ‘We could even adopt a kitten so you won’t be lonely when I’m away for work’, and he laughs fondly when her face lights up. 

You drive a hard bargain, but alright’, she pretends to grouse, heart in throat, but echoes his laughter when he triumphantly leans over to press his lips to her cheek.

She - with their cat in tow - returns back to Japan when Mori’s drafted to play for the Japanese team in the Olympics.

‘Akaashi!’ she exclaims, spotting a familiar mop of dark hair in the VIP stand. ‘What are you doing here?’

He waves a friendly hello. ‘I never told you I played volleyball in high school?’ he asks and when she shakes her head, he points to a tall man with grey and white streaks in his dark hair. ‘I used to be Bokuto-san’s setter’, he tells her, pride evident in his calm voice.

‘That’s so cool’, she says cheerfully, checking back to the court to see if Mori’s playing yet. Then she glances at him once over, noticing lines under his eyes that weren’t there before. ‘Keiji’, she says, the once familiar name now foreign on her tongue. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m good’, he replies with a small smile. ‘Surviving. Alright, I guess.’

‘Not married yet?’ she asks playfully.

‘No, we broke up’, he tells her plainly, waving away her apologies. ‘And you?’

‘Nope, not married yet’, she says with a distracted smile.

He wonders if he should seize the moment to tell her what he’s wanted to say when their relationship ended in flames (starting with ‘I’m sorry for everything’, and ending with a hopeful ‘maybe we can try again’) but he stops short when she shouts ‘Mori! Mori!’, as a short, brown haired man steps onto the court.

‘You know Yaku?’ Akaashi asks curiously. Nekoma libero, often overlooked but extremely dangerous - he remembers.

‘He’s my boyfriend’, she chirps, eyes glued to the court. ‘Do you know him too?’

‘We used to play each other in school’, he answers faintly, watching her cheer and wave her hands wildly. She’s happy, he thinks, she’s really moved on - and that thought selfishly makes his stomach sink.

‘He’s a good man’, he finally finds himself telling her.

‘The best’, she agrees, the sparkle in her eyes so bright he’s forced to look away.

He thinks he must be a masochist when he watches her throw herself headfirst into Yaku’s arms at the end of the match, the regretful ‘what ifs’ and ‘that could’ve been me’ thundering in his ears. Still, he knows she deserves someone who’ll always put her first, and with that thought ringing in his mind, he waits until she’s distracted with Bokuto-san’s antics before he steps forward, hand outstretched to Yaku.

‘Take care of her’, Akaashi says with a bittersweet smile. ‘You’re a lucky man’.

Yaku gives him an assessing look. ‘Always’, he promises firmly, taking his hand.

She returns home first, and he follows a few weeks later, after a whirlwind of awards and press interviews.

He breaks into a run when he sees her, swinging her into his arms at the arrival gate, and when they get home she cooks dumplings for him. ‘In case you miss home already’, she tells him teasingly, but flushes when he answers ‘but with you, I am home’, and blushes bright red when he carries her off to bed.

‘I want this to be my forever’, Mori tells her as he lays his head in her lap.

‘So do I’, she replies, her heart humming quietly, finally in safe hands. ‘So do I’.

[buckyswinterbaby]

Rule Number Four — Oneshot **

Pairing: softdom!Bucky Barnes x reader

Synopsis: Bucky returns home early from a mission to find the reader in a compromising position. Rules are broken and new ones are made.

Warnings: language, smut (18+), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), fluffy ending, softdom!Bucky, daddy kink (not ddlg), reader is submissive, nipple play, orgasm denial, metal arm kink, fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, degradation and a size kink (if you squint), aftercare, established relationship, masturbation.

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Word Count: 2,291

Note: Here’s my first attempt at actually posting an “x reader” or smut fic so please be gentle with her. This was based on a post I saw a bit ago about submissives masturbating while wearing their dom’s hoodie, so I thought I’d give it a go. I hope you guys enjoy!

You had become his wife nearly three months ago and this was the longest stretch you had been apart since.

Even before marriage, the two of you were practically inseparable. You were often found curled on his inviting lap with two arms circled around you, one flesh and one metal, holding you tightly to his chest. To say you had missed the comfort of his warm embrace would be the understatement of the year. It was more like you had been lost without it.

His arms were far from the only thing you missed about your soldier. Before his departure, Bucky had listed off a few rules to follow in his absence. Possibly enjoying your long standing dominant and submissive dynamic a bit more than he was willing let on in that moment.

Rule one: No touching yourself without permission. Cruel but simple enough.

Rule two: No orgasms. Bucky knew you too well to believe you wouldn’t find a loophole that didn’t involve dipping those delicate fingers between your folds.

Rule three, possibly the worst of the set, which was likely his intention: Nipple play, at least once a day. He wanted your delicious buds oversensitive and aching by the time he found his way home to you. While your cunt was left thoroughly neglected and needing his touch.

It was that one rule, one single command that had you breaking all the rest. You had held out for nearly his entire time away, only crumbling when you went to fulfill the rule one last time, the anticipation of his return clouding your senses.

You had intended to do as he said. You laid yourself out on the large bed that had felt overwhelmingly cold and lonely without him, clothed in nothing but his oversized sweatshirt that adorned the S.H.I.E.L.D logo on the front. Perhaps that was your first mistake, opting to forgo the panties you had been wearing the entire day. Leaving your dripping core exposed to the night air with your husband still, as you believed, across the world and unable to claim it.

Your delicate fingers traced the familiar path up the length of your torso, trailing along the valley between your soft breasts that Bucky so often spent his time worshiping. The hem of the sweatshirt rode up more and more as your hand made its way up. A flame flickered in the pit of your belly as you found your hardening nipples, the cool metal of your wedding ring ghosting over. For just a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine it was Bucky’s hand in place of your’s. The cold and unyielding vibranium working your body into fits of pleasure.

It was that thought that had your other hand trailing down instead of up, finding its way to the apex of your thighs. One finger wouldn’t hurt, you surmised. Though that one quickly led to two with a thumb working furiously on your throbbing clit.

Bucky heard your soft moans before he even approached the door, a wide grin spreading across his face. He was home hours earlier than anticipated, a fact he was suddenly so very grateful for. After another moment of listening, he heard the gentle string of gasps you would always release in pleasure, an undeniable sign that your orgasm was quickly approaching.

His interest was thoroughly peaked as he quietly slipped his way into the barely lit bedroom, drinking in the sight of you spread out before him like a man dying of dehydration.

“Y/n,” he called out, alerting you to his presence. Bucky licked his lips as he zeroed in on your now stilled hand, fingers slick and deep within you.

You knew better than to remove them, he’d tell you if that was what he wanted. Your breasts heaved as you breathed out, waiting for him to say something or act, you’d take anything over the silence that now hung in the air between you.

In two steps, Bucky crossed the distance and now stood at the foot of the bed. “I gave you three rules, doll, just three. Thought I’d be nice and make em’ simple for you. Seems you can’t even do that right, can you?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you called out, your voice sounding more like a pathetic whimper than actual words. You tried to go on and explain how you had tried to be good but Bucky quickly cut you off. You honestly couldn’t remember even making the decision to ignore the rule.

“Don’t bother trying to apologize now.” His metal hand trailed up your thigh as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. Slowly making his way up until he swatted your hand away, not failing to notice how visibly damp the sleeve of the hoodie now was. “You’ve made your bed, baby girl. I think it’s about time you had to lay in it.”

Your walls clenched down, now feeling empty without anything inside. That feeling didn’t last long as Bucky dipped a metal finger between your lips, gathering the arousal you had so eagerly coaxed out only minutes before. He didn’t waste another moment before pushing in two thick fingers, quickly setting a punishing pace as they curled around to rub your g-spot with each pump.

Your back arched off the bed as he drove you to the brink of release in what seemed like a matter of seconds, skilled hands doing what took you at least a few minutes. It was easy to get lost in these moments with the man you loved and trusted without question. Never hesitating to give over control to your husband as you let yourself fall further into the pleasure he was providing. And boy were you truly lost, at least until the pleasure stopped as his fingers stilled inside you, continuing to ever so gently rub that special spot he could find all too easily.

You looked over at him in surprise as your building orgasm quickly dissipated. “Bucky?”

“Patience. You’ve got a few questions to answer first.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at your huff of annoyance. “Was this the first time you broke rule number one while I was gone? You better be honest with me.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to form an understandable sentence as his thumb rubbed slow, lazy circles against your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily against his ministrations, he didn't seem angry, though.

“Did you break number two?” he questioned, his free hand roaming up to tease your sensitive nipples, purposefully giving the right one more attention than the other just to drive you nuts.

It took a few more seconds for you to compose yourself enough to speak. “I didn’t,” you moaned out, throwing your head back after a particularly hard pinch to the right nipple.

“Not for a lack of trying, it seems.”

A dark blush crept onto your already flushed cheeks. “I wanted to, daddy. I needed to. I followed rule three the entire time and I just couldn’t take it anymore.” You knew Bucky’s dominant side loved a lusty confession. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t trying to butter him up into finally allowing your release. If you only knew how much you’d end up regretting that wish.

“I left you alone too long, didn’t I? Your greedy little pussy isn’t used to not getting what she wants. And I think I know just the punishment to remind you that when you cum, how much you cum isn’t your decision.” You nearly came around his fingers then and there, which likely wouldn’t do much to fix your predicament besides providing momentary relief. “So you’ll get your orgasm, baby. Then you’ll take every other one I can give you and you’ll say thank you for being so generous. Scream it, even. Loud enough that Steve feels like he needs to go to confession.”

Your breath got caught in your throat at his words, goosebumps rising up behind the path of his flesh hand as it found its way to rest on your lower stomach. “How many?” You recognized that you should likely be afraid of his answer, but honestly nothing could prepare you for the reality.

Bucky seemed to debate the question for a moment before meeting your gaze, giving you the playful smirk you had fallen in love with some five odd years ago. “I dunno,” he admitted. “I haven’t decided yet. You’ll know when I’m done with you.”

His thrusts had been relentless for what seemed like hours, maybe it actually had been that long, you honestly couldn’t keep track. Orgasms blurred together as he used his super soldier endurance and sex drive to deliver the punishment he promised and then some.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, holding him closer to your sweat covered body as he continued to rut up against your abused sex, riding you through your most recent release.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes from how sensitive you had become, the multiple orgams and brutal pace allowing you no mercy. His thumb swept away a fallen tear before it could run down your cheek, his swollen lips capturing your’s in a far more passionate and intimate kiss than the others you had received throughout the night. Everything seemed to soften after that, besides his cock, of course. His thrusts slowed to a steady but more gentle rhythm as he recognized you were nearing your limit, but also not quite there yet.

Bucky spared a glance at where you bodies were connected, momentarily becoming captivated by the sight. His eyes returned to your’s, pupils still dark and blown, yet they seemed to be more passionate than ravenous now.

“One more, baby, can you do that for me? Give me one more and you can rest.”

You nodded while letting out a string of deep moans, desperately bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts in chase of your final orgasm. It didn’t take long for you to feel the familiar pressure building in your belly, raising you higher and higher in bliss. Words were far beyond you now, only a breathy string of his name escaping your parted lips as you buried your head in the space where his neck connected to his shoulder.

His thrusts grew sloppy as he attempted to hold out until you came crashing around him. His left arm was resting beside your head, holding his large frame up above your’s as not to crush your smaller body beneath him. Metal fingers found their way into the locks of your hair spread out on the pillows. Gentle tugs forced your head up, your eyes meeting his piercing blue ones.

“I want to watch you when you cum.”

Your eyes never left his as he brought you to the rising crescendo that would bring the night to its end. The unyielding intensity and intimacy of the moment had you feeling small but so very safe underneath him. Bucky was home and he was in control, you didn’t have to worry about a thing. You came undone around his cock once again, your tight walls pulling him across the finish line with you. A few more lazy thrusts followed as he painted your pulsing heat, gently pulling out once he was spent.

Bucky moved to lay down beside you, taking a moment to catch his breath before moving to check on you.

His nose brushed against the rim of your ear as he leaned over to place a kiss on your flushed cheek. He whispered soothing words against your skin as you came down, knowing you needed the reassurances and affection after a rough session. “You did so good, took everything just like I told you to. You’re too good to me.” Calloused hands that had spent so many years committing unspeakable acts now gently smoothed down your wild hair. “How about we get you cleaned up, okay?”

He waited for you to nod before moving you into his arms, carrying your spent body to the bathroom so you could take care of your needs while he ran a bath.

Once he knew the water was just how you like it, he moved into the tub, helping you position yourself between his legs with your back against his toned chest. Your head rested back against his shoulder as he moved the soapy loofah across your arms. It took a few more minutes, but slowly Bucky noticed that you were coming out of the headspace you always seemed to slip into when you truly relinquished control to him.

“Was I too rough?” His question broke the comfortable silence you both had fallen into since entering the attached bathroom.

A soft smile graced your lips in response, your heart swelling at his concern just as much as it had on your very first night together. You raised a hand up to rest on his cheek, pulling him down into a gentle and loving kiss. “You were perfect. If that’s what happens every time I misbehave while you’re away, I might just make a habit out of it.”

A chuckle rumbled from deep in Bucky’s chest as he shook his head in amusement. “Doll, you say that like you aren’t already the biggest pain in my ass since the day I met Steve.”

You didn’t hesitate to send a playful jab between his ribs in protest. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Barnes, I am a delight. The light of your damn life, even.”

An adoring smile made its way onto his features as he captured your lips in a brief kiss again. “Now that...that’s something we can agree on. Rule number four is that you never forget it.”

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter ix

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe you invited Ransom Drysdale to come to the bar with us.” I rolled my eyes, already used to Ana’s whining, and turned away from the bar to scoop my surroundings. Still no sign of him. But it was early, and he’d warned me he probably wouldn’t be able to get here until at least 8pm, so really, I shouldn’t be looking for him like some sort of lovesick teenager.

I didn’t even know why I was so eager to see him again.

“He’s the father of my child, what did you expect me to do?” That finally had Ana looking away from her shots to glance at my body, perfectly squeezed in one of my tightest dresses, showing just enough cleavage and legs to make it one of my favorite get-lucky items in my wardrobe.

“You’re right. I keep forgetting the reason he’s in your life is because you’re pregnant. Seriously, I was about to offer you a shot and everything!” I shook my head, chuckling to myself at her ways. “I mean, can you blame me? It’s not like you’ve started showing or anything!”

Well, she had a point there. It was also the reason why 1) I had agreed to come out with her tonight and 2) chose this dress to wear. I had to take advantage of this body while it was still like this. Soon enough, I’d be too heavy to handle high heels or crowded pubs, not to mention the fact that I would most definitely not fit into these already uncomfortably tight outfits.

“I’ll give you that,” I grinned, tapping her hand teasingly, like I was trying to calm her down. “Sometimes I forget it too. What the fuck is he doing here?” I added as a familiar man made his way into the bar, Ana’s head whipping around to look at where I was staring at a blond, well-built guy, grinning widely at me. 

“Who’s that?” I was too busy grinding my teeth together as I watched him approach, but as he came closer and closer to where we were standing, I knew it was better to let her know who he was right off the bat, so she could help me try to keep him away.

“Steven fucking Rogers.” Ana’s exclamation of surprise was cut short by his arrival, his stupidly handsome face going from me to her as if he waited for a formal introduction. “What are you doing here, Rogers?” My usual irritation at his presence was intensified by a thousand, and I had no idea why. Even he seemed surprised, if his eyebrows raised high were any indication.

As much as I made sure to avoid him, I’d never had any reason to be outwardly aggressive towards him before.

“Same as you, minus the dress.” He made a show out of undressing me with his eyes, and I rolled mine while fighting off the urge to dry heave. Why do men just assume our choice in clothing has anything to do with what we actually intend to do for the evening?

“You know, for someone who’s a university professor, you can be pretty daft.” Unfortunately for me, my comment only made the man towering over my smaller frame start to laugh. “Excuse me, I’m gonna see if Ransom texted me,” I told Ana, while giving Steve a side-eye as I made my way towards the back of the bar. 

There was a door to some sort of patio, and so that’s where I went, breathing in relief at the absence of loud music, as the walls made it pretty muted back here. The nice, cold air of the evening was also a blessing. 

I looked at the purse on my shoulder and considered if I actually wanted to reach out to Ransom. It was only half past seven, there was a lot of time for him to get here and absolutely no reason for me to make myself look like a clingy girlfriend. I just needed an excuse to put some distance between Steve and I.

But just as I thought that my mission had been accomplished, the sounds of the bar became louder, indicating someone had opened the door and joined me out here. Lucky as I was, I could imagine who that person might be.

“C’mon, honey…” Steve’s voice had me freezing every single one of my muscles, as I refused to turn around and look at him. “You can’t pretend to be some innocent little thing while you’re wearing a dress like that.”

God, I wish I could puke. It was times like these where my pregnancy sickness didn’t appear and for once, I wanted it to. So maybe then I could paint his pretty face or at the very least, his expensive shoes in a pale yellow color and erase that smug look on his face.

I didn’t even have to look to know it was there.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“You know, I could get used to seeing your skin this exposed…” I stopped dead on my tracks behind the couple I’d followed into the back exit. I’d looked for her everywhere ever since I arrived, she had to be there or I would start to think she had been playing a prank on me.

But seeing Y/N didn’t bring the relief I was expecting, because there was a man with her. And I didn’t know why the sight made my blood boil, but it did. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and so I stayed back in the shadows, contemplating just turning around and going back to my car, but I wanted to be sure of what was actually going on.

“It makes me think about what you’d look like naked.” I saw her shook her head, back still turned to the man behind her (and to me), but then his hands reached out and captured her waist, and I saw her flinch. 

“You look so hot, I want to take you right here in this back alley…”

“Steve, let me go.” At the sound of the disgust in her voice, I sprung into action, barely processing my own feelings or noticing how she was squirming in his hands as I hauled his body from hers. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I asked the guy, chest already heaving from anger. Beside me, Y/N looked scared, obviously startled at seeing me, and especially in this state. But I was too far gone to care.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” If I wasn’t so angry, maybe I would have considered the next words that fell from my lips. But my track record wasn’t the best, even in a calm mindset, so not even I believed I would have been able to hold back.

“I’m her man. She’s mine and she’s having my baby, so how about you back off?” A cold hand wrapped around my wrist had me snapping back into reality, looking down to see her staring at me with wide eyes. Oh, shit.

“What is he on about?” The man yelled, this time directing his words to Y/N, who very patiently turned to look at him and say, “Would you care to shut up?” Finally, seeing as he truly wasn’t going to have a chance with her, he decided to leave, huffing to himself the entire time.

“Y/N…” I started trying to explain myself, but she cut me off with a simple shake of her head.

“Not here, Ransom. Can you drive me home?” I closed my mouth and stared back at her, a feeling of defeat filling my chest before I finally nodded. It was the least I could do, after all.

We walked back into the bar together, and together we went to say goodbye to her friend, to whom she very quickly introduced me to. I could barely find it in me to smile at the woman, too busy beating myself up for my behavior tonight.

The drive back to her place was silent. I was wrecking my brain for what I could say to justify my behavior, but couldn’t find anything. I’d failed. I’d apologized to her only this morning, and now I’d already screwed up again.

Why should she want me around? I wasn’t even capable of being a good friend, much less an actual co-parent with her. How could she rely on me if I kept letting my most immature instincts take over?

I stopped the car in front of her building, still struggling with what to say, but to my surprise, she didn’t make any immediate movements towards leaving. It seemed as if she was lost in her thoughts too, and the idea that I might have the chance to change this gave me just the push I needed to say something.

“I’m sorry,” I spilled out, and her eyes darted up to meet mine, slightly wider than usual. “For overstepping. I-I don’t know what happened. I just saw you with him and you looked scared and I… God, you must hate me right now.”

I had to cover my face so I could concentrate, I could feel a headache coming. But just when all seemed lost,  I felt a warm hand over my thigh, squeezing the muscle, calling for my attention.

“It’s alright, Ransom. This is new for me too.” I didn’t know relief could feel this relaxing. Finally finding the courage to look her in the eyes again, I chanced a small smile that she quickly reciprocated, her hand still connecting us.

“I- It was actually really nice to hear your voice when I thought I’d have to scream for help. You did good, you were… you were very good back there. Thank you.” Silence fell between us once again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. For my part, I seemed to have forgotten how to speak. But she didn’t remain quiet for long.

“I just think we have to talk about what you said…” And that was all I needed to jump into explanation mode again.

“I know, I know. I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t mean it, obviously.” And to my surprise, she just smiled, not seeming bothered in the slightest by what I had done earlier that night.

“Believe it or not, I understand. I know I seem quick to jump into conclusions and that hasn’t been a good thing for our relationship so far… but this time I understand where you’re coming from.” It was a good thing that she did, I realized as she let go of my thigh to reach out for my hand instead. Because I had absolutely no idea why I’d said that she was mine. “But we do have to set some boundaries.”

I nodded, despite all of the confusing and conflicting emotions inside of me, starting with the feeling of warmth that appeared to be caused by her holding my hand. “You have to control yourself,” she continued, tone making it clear that she wanted me to give any sort of indication of my understanding of her words.

Deciding to hold back on the comment about how it was impossible, considering just the sight of her made me horny, I opted to go with a more mature, if slightly vulnerable response. “It’s not that easy… I don’t know how to keep those feelings in check. I’ve never felt them before.”

She nodded understandingly, and it didn’t seem patronizing. Before I could further clarify what I meant - or put my foot in my mouth, probably -  she filled in the blanks for me. “The feelings of protectiveness.” My mouth opened as I almost let the wrong thing escape, but I reeled it in at the last second.

“Yeah…” I trailed off. “Let’s go with that.” She frowned before her eyes widened in surprise, but then she started laughing, although shaking her head at my antics.

“You’re too much, Ransom Drysdale.” But instead of saying it in a disappointed tone, she just leaned over the console and hugged me, taking me by surprise. I didn’t even have the time to enjoy it, because in seconds she had leaned back and was unbuckling her seatbelt so she could leave.

“Hey,” I called out for her attention, wanting to get one last word in before she left. “You do look extremely hot in that little dress of yours. I didn’t have the opportunity to tell you before.” She narrowed her eyes at my words, but pursed her lips at the same time, like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

“As charming as that is, I think it’s a bit too late for you to try to flirt with me. I’m already carrying your child, aren’t I?” My smile dropped immediately, heart pounding in my chest with fear at her words.

“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I…” but she cleared all of my worries with a single cheeky wink, making me chuckle in relief as I slumped back against the driver’s seat.

“Thanks. I wanted to take advantage of my body while it’s still like this.” I watched as she gathered her stuff to leave, mind travelling to the future and imagining all of the changes she would go through because of this pregnancy.

I decided not to tell her that just the thought of her larger belly and heavier breasts was enough to get me hard. This version of her body, as hot as it was, wouldn’t be missed by me.

“Oh, hey,” she stopped just before closing the door, biting her lower lip as she pondered over something. “I have a doctor’s appointment scheduled for tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?”

The warm feeling that had appeared when she held my hand spread over my chest as I excitedly grinned at the woman before me, taking notice of the way she smiled back just as eagerly. I couldn’t help but notice there was a little bit of relief in the way she let her breathing escape after my affirmative answer, too.

“Text me the details?” She nodded.

“See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

I watched as she got safely inside her building, before finally allowing myself to think back on the events of the night - and particularly, on the way I felt seeing her in that dress, being touched by another man, and talking about the changes she feared she’d see in her body. One thing was perfectly clear to me then: being just friends with the mother of my child would be no easy task.

[marvelsbetch]

Peter Parker’s little sister

In this story Tony never died in Endgame because he deserved so much better.

-Peter's POV-

It had been a few week since the massive battle against Thanos and the world has some-what gone back to normal. The main problem was that mine and Aunt May's apartment had been taken by a small family. We had no where to go. Mr Stark had decided to start making tech again and bought back Stark tower to live in.

Luckily Mr Stark had a few extra rooms and allowed us to stay with him. This was amazing as it allowed us to work in the labs for as long as we wanted, with Aunt May and Pepper's approval, and I never had to worry about hiding Spider Man from Aunt May. It also allowed Tony to keep a close eye on me when ever I got injured, which happens quite a lot when you're in a new environment and don't know your way around. Or where the doorways are, you'd thing my spidy sense would help but apparently not. Also, a major perk to living with Tony was also living with Morgan. Morgan was the most adorable little girl anyone could ever lay eyes on. I remember when I first met her.

-The day after the boss battle-

It was the day after the battle and Mr Stark had invited me and Aunt May to eat at his lake house. When we arrived I was immediately greeted but a small child, five or so, who invited us in.

"Morgan, you can't just invite people in without asking me or mommy." Mr Stark lightly scolded the child before hugging me and my Aunt while saying his hellos.

"But Daddy it's only Peter." The child rebutted shocking me. Who was this kid?

"Morgan that doesn't matter. Anyway, meet Morgan, my five year old daughter. Morgan this is Peter and his Aunt May." Tony introduced.

"Hello Morgan. How come you know who I am?" I asked her gently.

"My daddy always talks about you all the time. He said you were basically his son, this makes you my big brother." Morgan explained making Me and Mr Stark go a bit red faced.

"Dinners ready!" Pepper yelled diffusing the kind of awkward situation as we all made out way to the dinning room.

We all took our places at the table, Tony at the head, me next to Morgan and Aunt May facing me next to Pepper. It didn't take us long before the conversation started again and soon we were all laughing and joking like old friends. Well, I guess we all kind of are.

After food we moved into the living room where Aunt May started asking questions about the battle and how they figured out what to do. Tony was telling the story of when he decided to help when Morgan came over and sat on my lap. I froze up not knowing what to do and tried to capture the attention of Pepper or Mr Stark without disturbing Morgan to no avail.

"Peter, are you really my big brother?" Morgan asked looking at me with her large brown eyes.

"I can be if you want me to be." I told her smiling. Who can deny that face.

"Can you really walk on ceilings? Daddy told me a story where you walked on the ceiling in his old house." Morgan asked with her eyes lighting us.

"I can. Wanna see?" I offered. Her large eyes lit up at the prospect of seeing me walk upside down.

"Yes please." She responded.

I smiled before moving her off my lap and walking over to the wall ready to climb up only the ceiling. Once I did I looked over at everyone and saw Morgan's eyes shining like a thousands suns.

"I have the coolest big brother ever!" She yelled and dust bumped the air making everyone laugh at her enthusiasm.

"Peter be careful. I only just got you back and I don't want to loose you to a slight fall." Mr Stark told me making me smile. He does care.

"Okay Mr Stark." I said before climbing down and touching my feet to the ground.

"After everything and you still call me Mr Stark." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Fine Dad. Is that better?" I asked sarcastically but seriously. Does that make sense? Oh well.

"Much." He smirked before standing up and ruffling up my hair.

"Daddy leave my big brother alone." Morgan scolded her father and pushed him away from me.

"Don't mess with me. I have Morgan Stark on my side." I warned everyone before picking Morgan up and placing her on my hip.

"Yeah. And I've got Spider Man on mine." Morgan added making everyone laugh.

The rest of the night was spent playing games and catching up on the last five years. Also, explaining Spider Man to Aunt May because that was something I forgot to do before hand. She almost killed me but it was okay in the end.

-Present Time-

"Peter! Peter wake up!" Morgan yelled while jumping on me. This kid could do some damage.

"Alright sergeant Stark. I'm awake." I sighed while sitting up before pulling her back down and tickling her.

Her sweet giggles filled the room for a few seconds before the sound of a camera click caught my attention. I looked up to find Mr St-Dad (still getting used to it) stood in my door way with a camera in his hands.

"Come on kids. Breakfast is ready." He informed before walking away smiling like a maniac.

"Petey I'm hungry." Morgan complained and stuck her bottom lip out, looking very adorable if I do say so myself.

"Come on them. To food we go!" I yelled before picking the small child up and carrying her to the kitchen area and placing her on one of the bar stools.

"Here are your pancakes. And here are yours." Pepper informed while placing two plates of pancakes lathered in maple syrup infront of me and Morgan. Big mistake.

Once we wolfed down those pancakes me and Morgan ran off to cause our required daily amount of mischief for the day. Target one: Dad.

We slowly and quietly walked down to the lab where Dad was working on some piece of technology. Hasn't really changed.

"Okay we need a plan. What've you got?" I whispered to Morgan.

"We could sneak up on his and shout boo really really loudly down his ear. It always scares him." Morgan whispered back.

"Sounds like a plan. Let's move out." I spoke while we continued to creep down the stairs and towards Dad, who had his back turned to the open door.

"BOO!" We yelled right down his ear before quickly running back up the stairs and to the main living area.

"Hey Pepper." I greeted before throwing myself onto a vacant couch closely followed by Morgan who jumped on me. Heavy child.

"Oof Morgan. You're heavy." I fake complained in a strained voice.

"No I not. You're super strong like uncle Steve." Morgan said matter of factly.

"Am I now? How do you know that?" I asked lifting my head up to look at her.

“Daddy told me. He told me the story about how to picked a house up 'cause a bad man threw it on you." Morgan informed.

"He did now. What else did your Daddy tell you about me?" I asked in genuine curiosity.

"You'll be sat there all day before she's even half way finished." Pepper informed before getting off of the other couch and walking out of the room.

Morgan then explained every single story Dad had told her about in my absence, even stuff I didn't tell him about like the house party with Liz and Flash. What a disaster. And my time in Berlin, he even showed her the recordings I had made. I also found out that Tony managed to take all of mine and Aunt May's personal items with him after the dusting as I call it. Things like family air looms and and cameras were stored in a spare room at the lake house, which the family still owned.

After a few hours of stories I had never felt so loved in my life after hearing how much Tony had praised me in my absence. As much as he pretends to be this cold figure to the public, me and my little sister know his true cinnamon roll centre. The big softie Stark and his two minions.

[travellingarmy]

║Diluc║Found You 2

A continuation requested by someone on Wattpad.

Be warned: This could absolutely be a sh**y post.

Word count: 2.7k

---

All felt like a dream when he had taken you away from your home. It was a slip through the day like wind passing through a blocked off cave of old. So now, you were going back home-- your true home, Mondstadt, and in Dawn Winery.

"Do you need anything? Snacks, clothes, collection items-- anything?" Diluc asks, sitting beside you on the sofa as wood in the fireplace crackle under the fire that lit up part of the room. "I'm okay," you answered, smiling.

Diluc, ever since you've returned, has stayed at a good distance from you so that you would never disappear from him again. He knew that when he took you from Fontaine, it was kind of abrupt and that your father would be out to get you, most likely knowing where you are hiding. So, for the time being, you two were staying at a luxurious inn within Liyue.

It was close to Mondstadt which does sound like a horrible place to stay, being that since it is the neighbouring nation, your father would send people to Liyue. However, that is why you two stayed there. If your father does send people to Mondstadt and did not find you there, he most likely will not assume that you are in Liyue since he would think that it is a foolish idea.

"Let's just stay like this for a while," you said, leaning on his shoulder and closing your eyes.

Your thoughts wandered. If your father does find you, there was no way in Teyvat will you let him drag you back to that gloom of a home, wanting to try and fight for yours and Diluc's happiness. You know that you can't hide forever and that this was simply a mean to by time-- to take a rest until you decide to face your father.

And so, why did you leave home? The word 'gloom' has most likely stood out.

You left home after your father became that of a tyrant in the house, when your mother had fallen out of love with him, and you couldn't stand his new persona-- always shouting and even starting to slap you at the littlest of mistakes that he used to brush off. He would even have someone monitor you and report everything to that man, giving you that feel of lost freedom.

That progressed to worse treatment when he started to see you not as his child but an object. Everytime he saw you, he remembers your mother and that would get him riled up.

When he knew that you ran away, he was furious. You are to bend to his wishes as his child, no? That is what plagues his mind.

Originally, both parents were to have a split custody, but she lost even that half the authority, given how much money your father bribed to keep you as a way to make your mother regret.

"Hey, (Y/N)?" Diluc calls your name, gently putting a hand over yours. You dismissed your thoughts and hummed to his call. "What is it, Diluc?" you ask softly, eyes still closed, feeling have tired.

"I am sure you're thinking about your father, so this may sound that I am prying into your life.." At that, you understood as to what he was leading on, and you were kind of expecting it, seeing as you didn't tell him anything. "I don't want to pressure you into telling me so I'll wait until you want to.." he adds, rubbing his thumb on your hand.

"Mn.. Thank you," you said. It was a long journey to Mondstadt and with the many stops to avoid encountering any of your father's servants, it tired you out honestly.

-

It takes a couple months to travel from Fontaine to Mondstadt, but added a couple weeks hiding in Liyue. You didn't feel as if you were truly hiding though-- you and Diluc stroll around Liyue, completely out in the open, but there were many people so that you two won't stand out.

During that time, Diluc took you out to dinner and bought you anything that you wanted, even tossing in things that he thinks you might like and the stuff that you eyed for a little longer to not be considered as a glimpse.

"Diluc, there really is no need to buy me these," you hastily said, trying to reach the item in his hands which he switch to the other to make it further away from you. "It's fine. The money I earned from Dawn Winery and the tavern won't stop," he said, quickly paying it so it left you no room to dissuade him.

Life was like that for a while until a letter from the head butler of Dawn Winery sent an emergency letter through Diluc's bird, saying that there were two people loitering around Dawn Winery who look like they were from Fontaine, seeing their unique clothing.

The letter wrote that they have been watching the winery and not leaving when forced to.

"I don't think it's time to go back just yet. We'll just tire them out," Diluc said, referring to the Fontainians, as he scans through the letter.

The next day, was that of any other day, but what you didn't expect was to see your father in Liyue.

Seeing as his head was turned to somewhere else- most likely searching for you as he passes by Liyue- you took it as a chance to drag Diluc into one of the stores, hiding behind one of the shelves inside.

"(Y/N)?" He calls, but then looks at where you were staring at and knew what was happening. "You saw your father, didn't you?" he asks and you nod.

You guessed that he couldn't wait for a couple more months to hunt down for you and that is why he is personally finding you, finally standing up from his stupid chair in his office.

"He's most likely going to Dawn Winery.." Diluc states, narrowing his eyes at the people outside.

You were off in your thoughts, dwelling on decisions to be made hastily. Have you been prolonging the search that long now? As much as you didn't want to face that man, you had to someday because there really aren't much places to hide in Teyvat-- aside from the land of sinners, Khaenri'ah.

You look out the window, now seeing your father gone from the spot he once stood. Sighing, you and Diluc walked out of the store, but didn't dare put your guards down as you made your way back to the inn. Just because he wasn't in your sights doesn't mean he has fully left Liyue.

His eyes were that of a hawk and there is no way he wouldn't see you even amongst the wave of people, and he has other eyes just in case he does miss you.

You two only relaxed once back in the safe zone, deciding to not stroll around for a couple of days and only letting Diluc run errands since he most likely wasn't one to be recognized to be with you.

During those days, there have been a brief exchange of letters through Diluc's bird. The letters also included one from the Knights of Favonius' Cavalry Captain, Kaeya, saying that a nobleman from some place off was being a hassle in the city. And with the level of intellect that the knight holds, he deducted that it had something to do with Diluc's absences at the tavern.

Then, one night, when you and Diluc were sitting comfortably on a sofa, you spoke, "Diluc, I think we should go back." You intertwined your hands with his, feeling warm throughout your body.

You gulped back fear of your father and decided to face him. There was no way will you ever let yourself be dragged back to that house of his.

And so, the travel to Mondstadt took no less than a day and was soon facing Dawn Winery-- the only place you called home.

"Master Diluc, welcome back," the head maid, Adelinde, greet. Diluc's eyes darted to the maid and immediately asked for a report about what happened in Mondstadt while he was gone.

"The Knights of Favonius has been trying to please a group of foreigners for the past days," Adelinde answers. "A particular man was searching for a person named (Y/N) and has been causing trouble for the knights."

Diluc's eyes befell on you, getting your attention on him. Then, "Where is this man right now, Miss Adelinde?" you ask straightly, facing the maid.

"Ah, they are still within Mondstadt's walls," she answers.

With that, you look towards Diluc and gave a firm nod to reassure the male of your decision. You knew of Diluc's worries and fears from the past days spent together. He was afraid that you would leave again, but just didn't quite express it.

Seeing your determined look, he nods and the two of you walked to Mondstadt, soon being greeted by the Cavalry Captain. "Master Diluc, why the frown? Here I thought you had a wondrous time being away from your work for so long," Kaeya states, still able to pull a sly smile. "You know.. The knights were having quite the time as well, trying to--"

"Sir Kaeya, could you speed this up and tell me where that nobleman is right now?" Diluc cuts off, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the captain.

"Oh, so you're well-informed even when you are gone," Kaeya says. "I'm sure one of your servants filled you in about that nobleman already, so if you are looking for him, he's at the headquarters talking to the Acting Grandmaster, saying that if we ever found their child, we should send him a letter." With that, Kaeya's eyes narrowed on you, knowing full well of who you were. After all, you, too, were a foreigner to Mondstadt well before-- he just had to connect a simple series of dots.

You, however, remained silent and paid no mind to the male. "Alright, we'll be off," Diluc says, holding your hand and walking off towards the headquarters.

Just as you two set foot on the final set of stairs, you see an all too familiar man stepping out from the headquarters. However, you weren't jolted with fear anymore, gripping onto Diluc's hands tightly.

It didn't take long for your father's eyes to meet yours, a hint of anger on his face. But since you were with another person, he had to calm down as to not have a bad impression. He was still a businessman after all and seeing how well-dressed Diluc was, he knew he was someone of the same level as he was.

"(Y/N), is that you?" he played off, asking with a forced smile on his face that would make one want to punch him.

"Drop the act, I know why you're here," Diluc steps in, eyes cold for a man who wields pyro. Hearing this, your father frowns and cursed you in his head.

"Alright, since you know why I'm here, why don't you hand me my child back?" the man said.

"I'm afraid I won't let you, sir," Diluc said, which just upset the old man further. "I don't think you have the right to say this. I am their father and as their father, I have the right to take them home," your father said.

"They may be your child, but they are at the matured age to decide what they want to do with themselves. I believe that you have no power to control them anymore," Diluc asserted firmly.

"Who do you think you are!?" your father suddenly booms, anger masking his face read. "Don't you know who I am!?"

"No, I do not. But let me ask you this, do you know who I am?" Diluc asks. Your father huffs. "Why do you matter?" he shots a question back.

"I am well aware of your status in Fontaine, but none of that matters to me," Diluc said. "I'm sure you suspected as much, but I hold the most power in Mondstadt just as you hold in Fontaine."

"But you are in Mondstadt and have no backing whatsoever, making you at the bottom," he continues. "Under me, you can't take them away from here."

Your father clench his teeth at the words thrown at him. He was suppose to have control over you, right? Again, this is what's plaguing his mind, but what can he do? It was true that he was nothing but a foreigner. However, he was still planning on getting you back home so with that said, he lunges at you, ordering the people who serves him to catch you.

Diluc put an arm in front of you. He was ready to use his pyro vision, but was still wavering to use it against another human being.

Luckily for him, instead of having your father be burnt to death, ice blocked you two from your father. "Oh~ who knew that you were this man's child," Kaeya steps in, pretending to not know anything even though you were already aware. "And, Master Diluc, you must know you can't harm others with our visions. It will make a bad impression of our nation."

"Kaeya.. What are you doing here?" Diluc grumbles. "Oh, you know, just thought that the Acting Grandmaster might need me soon~" he openly tells a lie, then turning towards your father. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm sure your hands are numbing due to being locked in ice, hm?"

"Remove my hands from these!" your father shouts. "Ah, but only when I'm sure you won't harm another person. I'm a knight and as a knight, I have to protect others." Kaeya shrugs, looking quite smug with himself, earning your father to growl.

But still knowing he was furious, Kaeya released him from the ice. "I'm sorry to intrude in your family business, but I might have overheard the conversation," Kaeya said, looking from you to the vieux riche.

"What do you want? I don't think you were ever part of this business," you father spat at Kaeya. However, he remained calm-- clearly unfazed by such small talk. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't think you have the right to take our citizens forcefully," Kaeya said.

"Citizens? They're not even from here!" he shouts angrily, showing a clenched fist at the captain. "Oh? They're not? Huh, now, I may be wrong- which I highly doubt- but I am sure they are Master Diluc's lover, yes? So to say, lovers should be in one place," Kaeya said, closing his visible eye and holds a pointing finger as he speaks.

You notice your father about to lunge at Kaeya, but before he could do that, Kaeya's eyelids open and revealed a cold gaze. "Sir, you have been quite the handful lately. I think you best be off to the safety of your nation. We Mondstadtians won't just idle by and watch, you know?" Kaeya said, his gaze making your father seem small.

With one more mean look, your father fled from Mondstadt altogether in fear of being locked in prison in Mondstadt, never to return in search of you.

"I could have handled that, you know?" Diluc states, eyes boring through Kaeya like a knife. "I know, but I wanted to step in, in fear of you burning that man alive~" Kaeya shrugs. "Well then, I'll be off now~" Kaeya turns around and walks away, hand up in the air as a mean of a wave.

Silence soon fell-- a comfortable silence, of course. You felt relieved and your heart felt lighter at the fact that your father was never going to show up in front of you again. You would have picked a fight, but Kaeya stepped in. Nevertheless, you were grateful since you might've been the one to kill your own father.

"Then, shall we be off?" Diluc spoke, hands intertwining with yours. You look away from the direction Kaeya walked off to and smiled at Diluc, nodding. "I want some rest," you said, earning Diluc to smile.

"Sure. Let's go home."

---

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: nothing to mourn or miss Ship: Poker pair Summary:  The only thing connecting little Cornelia Walker to Tyki Mikk was the mop of dark hair. A year after his Master's letter had been sent to the Black Order, Allen Walker arrived at their Headquarters, carrying a newborn on his back. AN: I just want trans Allen fanfics. Let’s see where this fanfic will go!

Lavi’s greatest gift had always been his observation skills. Growing up on the streets (in a different city, under another name), he’d had to be clever and aware to ensure he wouldn’t starve to death or be killed. Bookman, of course, had taken the ability to a whole new level, ensuring that Lavi wouldn’t miss even a single detail. Lavi was pretty sure that if there was a way to keep from blinking for the rest of his life, Bookman would force him to learn that as well.

Regardless, his skill was why he knew Krory had to be in the next train wagon. It was the last possible option, given that the vampiric Exorcist hadn’t been in any of the others. The situation, once they found him, was pretty easy to break down. He’d gotten cheated out of his clothes and money by three traveling vagabonds and a sickly-looking child; tuberculosis if Lavi were to guess. They looked rough as if the gentleness was seldom shown to them. From their hands and posture, Lavi deduced they worked in the mines or a similar taxing job.

That was as far as Lavi got with his observation before another one took him by surprise.

“Allen!” the boy shouted and promptly threw himself at said young man.

Here was the thing about Allen Walker: He was lithe in build, small, but he knew how to present himself. Lavi looked at him and knew what he kept hidden, yet it was not a lie because everything about Allen Walker screamed that he was a young man. He’d never said a word about whether he’d learned from his deceased father or his Master, but Allen knew how to navigate society, which social cues to react to or ignore.

Allen often kept people at a distance to keep up appearances and live his life as he wanted. Lavi, personally, was a massive fan of invading people’s personal space. He’d learned to do so early for various reasons, and with time passing, Allen started to allow Lavi in his bubble. But always, he was careful, hesitating, bracing himself for interaction.

And yet, somehow, this protection was disregarded without a second thought. Allen wasn’t taken aback by the boy jumping him but reacted on instinct and caught the boy. Were the child smaller, Lavi would think it was because of Cornelia, but no, the boy was much older than Allen’s daughter.

And here it was, the second clue:

“Eeez!” Allen said. “What are you doing here?”

“Traveling to a new job!” Eeez replied in rapid-fire Portuguese that, had Lavi not spent a year in the country, he wouldn’t have been able to understand a word. “You’re pretty far from your usual roads,” Allen replied only and set the boy down again. “But I see, your cheating habits haven’t changed at all.”

“You’ve always been the worst cheat,” the man towards the right replied, causing the one on the outmost left to laugh in agreement.

The two seemed good-natured if a little tired. They were comfortable around Allen, studied him briefly as if to check he was doing well, eating enough or so. Anyone who knew Allen well enough to greet him so heartedly had to be aware of his metabolism and with this group struggling for money, it was no surprise they worried about food.

But it wasn’t quite the two men or the boy that drew Lavi’s attention.

No, it was the man in the middle.

Thick glasses obscured his eyes, but his hair was curly and dark, the kind that Lavi knew from experience was fun to run your hand through.

How well exactly did Allen Walker know this man and how much did he care to keep such large secrets?

“Are you going to join us, menino?” the man asked. “Your friend has lost a few things, I believe.”

Allen grinned triumphantly, but his hand twitched all the same, betraying his lie. He was nervous, shaken by this confrontation, and were he anyone else, words about little princesses in high towers, bright gray eyes looking up from the Branch Chief’s lap, and bets on milestones would soon spill out of his mouth.

“Allen,” Krory finally spoke up, still sniffling. “Do you know these men?”

“Yes,” Allen replied, shaking himself from stupor. “We traveled together for a while after Master Cross had dumped me. They’re friends.”

Just friends? Lavi wondered. From the looks of it, he was not the only one. The boy, Eeze, narrowed his eyes, glancing between Tyki and Allen. Whatever they had, it hadn’t been that casual. The result was currently crawling around HQ, after all.

“This is Momo, Crack, and Glasses in the middle­—”

“You wound me.”

“Is Tyki Mikk.”

Tyki was not a name whose origin Lavi could place easily. He’d assumed that Cornelia had been picked because it was a fairly common British name and sounded well with the small family’s last name.

Cornelia Walker wasn’t even a year old yet, and thus Lavi quietly found himself doing the math. Cross’s letter had announced only Allen’s arrival and been dated about a year before Allen had actually managed to arrive at the Order. He knew that Lenalee thought Allen had been sent to the Order because of Cornelia, so she’d be safe while Allen killed Akuma.

Never mind that nobody expected Cross to be a capable guardian for a newborn. People had been fascinated enough with the fact he’d managed to raise a teenager.

The only thing connecting little Cornelia to Tyki Mikk was the mop of dark hair. Otherwise, she was entirely Allen’s baby, from the pale complexion to the eyes and… Before meeting this Tyki, Lavi had assumed that she had Allen’s nose, but it actually resembled Tyki’s more closely. Still following through with his conclusions, Lavi pretended to be shocked at Allen’s gambling skills, the way he won back Krory’s clothes and dignity before stripping his old friends of theirs.

“Royal Straight Flush,” Allen announced once more with a smile as the others tossed their cards, not at all angry, more amused.

“They’re used to this,” Eeez said, this time in English. It was accentuated but still pretty good. Lavi could hear the same kind of pitter-patter pronunciation Allen sometimes fell back on when he was careless or exhausted. He must have taught the boy how to speak the language. How curious, it spoke for longer exposure to Allen. This definitely added to Lavi’s growing suspicion that Allen hadn’t just taken the long way round to the Order.

As did the fond glances Allen couldn’t keep off his face.

He could have stayed with this group. They were obviously aware of Allen’s status, but they seemed to have no trouble with it. Without needing to pay off his Master’s debt, Allen could earn enough to settle down somewhere. If they stayed near a mining town, the group wouldn’t even have to break up or work in a different branch.

There’d be no little niece for Komui to fuss over or dress up in her father’s absence. The Order would have remained entirely unaware of Allen Walker’s presence until someday along the way, somebody would dig out the one letter Cross had hurriedly written. And by then, they’d have assumed that Allen Walker had died on his way to the Order. Despite the tension of Allen’s shoulder, he was obviously at ease with this group, was at home, whereas he still hadn’t settled completely at the Order.

He could have abandoned the Akuma for them, this odd broken little family, but he hadn’t. The Destroyer of Time had marched on, wrapped his new gift up in cuddly blankets and climbed up a mountain.

Perhaps Lavi should tell him of the Order’s gruesome history, its horrible present. Would the boy have chosen to take his daughter there if he knew what lingered behind the black walls? Lavi had no doubt that if someone else sat in Komui’s office, little Cornelia would be tested weekly for resonance with an Innocence piece given that her father was an Accommodator. Then again, that doll that acted as her babysitter had taken a liking to her and Lavi doubted it was just because of the sentience it possessed.

The train ride passed in relative peace despite the gambling with the miners talking of their travels and Allen returning with stories of his own, carefully modified to leave out any signs of Akuma or his daughter.

He had no intention of telling them.

Lavi’s job was to record history, not to teach it.

He didn’t have to tell them either. Most likely, this encounter would remain a footnote in Allen Walker’s biography.

The odd group had to leave the train before them, and their goodbyes were sweet and kind, warmer and lingering, a farewell that nobody wanted. Eeez hugged Allen once more and Momo and Crack both gave Allen a nudge and tousled his hair fondly.

When it came to Tyki, Lavi paid attention. Accommodator yet or not, someday Cornelia’s history might become relevant, and they’d need all the details.

“Take good care of yourself, menino,” Tyki said, making no move to embrace Allen, touch him in any way. How curious that he’d chosen distance when he so obviously wanted to reach for the opposite. Lavi had seen a hundred stories like this already, how bitter love like this must be.

At moments like this, Lavi was glad that he was forever exempt from such heartbreak.

“I’m not the one always on the road, running off doing odd jobs,” Allen countered with a soft smile, a joke that failed to hide any of the pain. “Take care of yourself as well.”

The group left the train, and it was only as the machine was already departing that Tyki tossed something at Allen, the same playing cards they’d used earlier. Lavi watched quietly as Allen looked through the cards until melancholy turned his lips upwards.

“Hearts this time,” Allen muttered under his breath, likely not meant to be picked up by Lavi’s ears.

He packed the cards into the pocket of his coat and wrapped it tightly around his body as if to keep out the imaginary cold. When Allen looked up, his eyes fixed on Lavi, he seemed torn between determination and desperation.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Allen said, or perhaps ordered. “Please.”

So it hadn’t gone unnoticed that Lavi had uncovered his little secret.

Checking that Krory was still out of earshot, busy carrying their luggage to this empty compartment, Lavi chose to engage. “Why not tell him?”

Allen shrugged, then smiled just a bit pained. “His world is different from ours. They don’t have much cash, so I wouldn’t dump a child on them, and it would be careless to ask Tyki, and the others by extension, to step into the nightmare that is our reality. It’s better this way.”

Lavi hummed in agreement, thinking on the report he’d make to Bookman. Allen Walker, despite his cheerful optimism, could be quite realistic, almost painfully so.

They didn’t tell the families of their Finders about the deceased either.

Ignorance, wounding as it might be, left you with nothing to mourn or miss.

(Later, bound to a chair, the Fourth Apostle screaming at him, Lavi would remember his past assessment and laugh at his naivete.)

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Billy Loomis

(Not my gif)(Requested by @loodloottoot)

- You met Billy when the two of you ended up in the same class. He noticed you while looking around the room and was immediately taken with you.

- All throughout class, he kept sneaking glances at you, barely paying attention to the teacher as they talked. When the bell rung, he sat back in his seat and watched you leave, deciding that he had to have you right then and there.

- He starts out by doing the typical ‘I have a crush on you’ secret staring and learning more about you; most likely through Stu or by listening in on your conversations. He wants to make sure that you’re the one for him before he shoots his shot; he’s artful when picking people that he actually wants to date, there’s more steps involved.

- Once he’s gathered enough data on you, he’ll sit next to you in class, lean over, and introduce himself with a charming smile. You introduce yourself back; most likely a little flustered by the sudden attention, and then class will start, ending your potential conversation.

- He tries to talk with you all week but his plans are always foiled by something or someone. One of you will show up to class too late, someone will take the seat next to yours, you’ll be busy talking to a friend, someone will distract him and you’ll disappear; and so on. It frustrates him more than he cares to admit.

- Finally, he figures that he has to work a little bit harder so he strategically waits outside of the school with some of his friends. I say strategically because he made sure he had a perfect view of the doors everyone leaves out of when classes end.

- The instant he spots you, he excuses himself and jogs over, greeting you and asking what you’re planning on doing after school. The two of you strike up a bit of a conversation before you’re forced to say goodbye and board your bus. It may seem anticlimactic but to him, it’s a crucial point in your budding relationship.

- After that, he just seems to keep popping up wherever you are; in school at least. Unbeknownst to you, it’s not exactly a coincidence.

- The two of you form a bit of a friendship, and why wouldn’t you? He’s charismatic, fun to talk to, isn’t put off by anything, and pleasantly reserved so it feels like you’re special because he chooses to speak “with you of all people”. If you’re shy then congratulations, you’ve found the one person who is tactfully persistent enough to break down your walls.

- It’s probably a few months before anything of value happens, besides being integrated into his friend group and telling each other some of the things you usually don’t tell people.

- One day, while the two of you are walking to class, he asks if you like horror movies movies. When you ask him why, he tells you that he’s renting a few films and was wondering if you wanted to join him for a bit of a marathon.

- It’s sounds so casual that you’re sure he just wants to hang out as friends, but regardless, you agree.

- So you get to his house and the two of you are sat on his couch, some gorefest horror movie that he chose to watch playing on the tv. He excuses himself to go get a drink and when he comes back, he sits down beside you again although this time much closer than before.

- You try not to think any of it, even as his arm wraps around the back of the couch behind you. Well, you don’t think anything of it until you can feel his hand on your shoulder, fingers tracing shapes against the skin of your arm.

- You aren’t sure what to do, so you don’t do anything, staying perfectly still as you struggle to breathe properly, a flustered heat coursing through you. The two of you sit like that for a few long moments before he slowly pulls you into him and speaks.

“Y/n,” he says your name quietly, his voice deep. He pauses and waits for you to respond which you do so with a nervous hum. “I like you a lot. You know that, don’t you?”

“I like you too, Billy.” you respond in a near whisper, eyes focused on your lap.

“Good.” He whispers back, pressing his lips to your hot cheek as his hand finds the side of your face and he pulls you into a kiss.

- Lets hope that you’re sure about being with him because now that he has you, he certainly isn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

- Constant Pda. He likes having his hands on you at all times; it’s just a bonus that it shows everyone in the general vicinity “who you belong to”.

- Gentle forehead and cheek kisses.

- Hugs from behind where he nuzzles his face into your hair and jaw.

- Long makeout sessions. Once you start, he never wants to stop.

- Getting late night visits/sneaking out to see him. He shows up at your window pretty much whenever he feels like and has subsequently gotten very skilled at climbing up the side of your house.

- His favorite nickname for you is “sweetheart”. He just feels like it suits you and likes the little smile you get on your face when he calls you it.

- Cuddling? Billy would never admit it to anyone but he absolutely loves it. Oftentimes, he’s the big spoon, but he can’t deny that he loves it when you cradle him into your chest, especially when he’s tired or having a rough day.

- He lounges whenever he can so expect to be laid/leaned on, or to have him maneuver himself so that he’s laid back yet still has you close to or touching him.

- Long and deep conversations. The two of you experience existential crises together.

- You’re going to be around Stu a lot. The two of them are constantly hanging out so you and him are; most likely, going to be close as well.

- Sharing food with each other.

- Hanging out at the fountain.

- Horror movie dates.

- Constant movie references, quotes, and random facts.

- A Fall slut through and through. Falling leaves? Sexy. Pumpkins? Hot. Anything spooky? Orgasmic. He usually goes ape shit during holidays but during the fall, he goes ape shit for a whole season.

- He has a wonderful skill of popping up at the “right” times. You seem to constantly run into him and you aren’t sure if it’s really a coincidence or not.

- Random phone calls. Sometimes he plays around with you, other times he gets straight to the point.

- Back massages. He lets out these little moan like noises which make it really hard to think straight as you’re trying to innocently rub his back.

- Hand holding.

- Playing with each other’s hair. You’re constantly brushing his out of his eyes.

- He toys around with your things, either while he’s bored or to make you laugh, or just to fidget with something while you talk.

- He loves hearing you laugh and seeing you smile. He feels accomplished whenever it’s because of him, like he’s done something revolutionary.

- His fathers rarely home so you usually have the house to yourselves. He likes the privacy, being able to do whatever you please with no interruptions. It’s the teenage dream, isn’t it?

- Wearing his shirts, especially when you sleep over at his house.

- Surprisingly sensitive about certain things and somewhat easily offended. He takes you not wanting to touch, see, or be seen with him very personally, even if there’s a legitimate reason behind it.

- Weirdly enough though, he’s got a really high pain tolerance. He’s a trooper when he gets hurt and always amazes you with how little he reacts. He once sliced his hand open when the two of you were together and while you were wrapping something around the wound, all he did was let out a little “ow” and chuckle at you.

- He’s a bit reserved; he’s not a huge social butterfly so he prefers just hanging out with you and a few close friends. He’s friendly when he has to be, he just doesn’t really like talking to people he doesn’t know/know very well or being in huge crowds.

- He loves just watching you. He could look at your face for the rest of his life; all day, everyday, and still never get tired of seeing it.

- Intimate eye contact. There’s so much emotion behind his eyes when they meet yours. He could make you flustered with a single look.

- He never pushes you to do anything you don’t want to. He does such evil things most of the time, it’s nice to be seen as “the good guy” and to treat someone he cares about with respect.

- He’s a cunning bastard. If you need something done, he’ll find a way to do it. And if he needs something done, then he’ll find a way too and it may or may not involve you.

- Growing suspicious of him and his absences or the little odd things that just don’t add up. You swear he’s hiding something....

- He hangs back and waits for you when you want to go do something quick, like ask someone something or drop something off somewhere. It doesn’t ever annoy him; he likes being able to know what you’re doing.

- He’s definitely a bit overprotective and clingy at times. He’s got some deep rooted abandonment issues so he wants to make sure you’re not going anywhere or somehow going to get hurt and have to leave him because of it.

- He’s quick to interrupt when he can tell you’re uncomfortable and insults/scolds people when they upset you.

- He yearns for that motherly role in his life so he snaps at the chance to get it from your own mother when the two of you begin dating. It’s certainly a bit odd when you find him and her hanging out in your kitchen or how quick he is to agree to joining you on family outings/activities when you’re about to decline, but you are happy that he’s getting the very thing that he seems to need.

- Later in your relationship, he’ll open up to you more and tell you about his family life/ everything that goes on in his head. Just be patient because it’ll take him a while to completely trust you with everything.

- He’d rather cut off his own dick then cheat on you. He sees it as the ultimate sin, the worst thing you could ever do to a person ...besides abandon them.

- He has a mean streak when it comes to jealousy. He can’t stand the thought of you; his girl, with someone else or having someone else like you. He’s threatened and/or glared people down before if he’s thought they had a thing for you.

- Sensitive subjects really aren’t his strong suit. He always seems to say the wrong thing whenever he’s faced with them and it’s caused more than a few fights/arguments between the two of you.

- He gets angry when he’s angry, if that makes sense, although it really depends on what’s making him upset. He can either stay very calm or start rioting like a maniac, it’s really like flipping a coin with him. He does tend to flip out on other people rather than you though, so that’s good, right?

- He apologizes when he’s in the wrong and never expects you to if you aren’t. He also has a particular talent for worming his way back into your heart after he’s royally pissed you off.

- He doesn’t tell you he loves you constantly but he says it at the right moments so the words have a lot of meaning whenever he says them.

- Like I said, he doesn’t plan on letting you go anytime soon. You’re the one for him and he’s going to keep you with him for as long as he can.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Serendipity - Part IV. (Harry Styles)

a/n: can’t believe only one part left of this story! i personally love their journey and a lot more is to come, we have an emotional last part ahead of us, so brace yourself! as always, feedback is very much appreciated!!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 9.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST  ⚫️ my masterlist  ⚫️  come and talk to me about Serendipity!  

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

Sometimes Harry finds himself way too caught up with everything around him. Work tends to pile up, meetings after meetings, urging deadlines and the demand to stay relevant in the industry. These past weeks he has tried his best to make London the epitome of his life and so far he has been successful in his attempt, dodging two trips away from his home, though he had to make a short visit to New York still.

Now, even though he is in London, he feels like he is far from home. He hasn’t been able to see Lis in three days, their schedules just didn’t line up well and he would never ask her to mess up her usual routine with Benji, but he has been missing her dearly. He has been missing them both. Harry found himself growing a liking to being around not just Lis, but her little boy as well. He loves playing around with him, joining the mother-son duo on their little outings on Sundays, or just simply stay in with them, watching whatever movie has caught Benji’s eyes recently. He has been spending all his free time with them, but this week has been too hectic and now Harry feels like it’s coming down crashing on him at once.

It’s past eight pm now and he just finished with a tiring meeting. He has had many creative differences with the team he is supposed to work together with for a photoshoot and it took all his energy and patience out of him to stay calm and respectful when they just wouldn’t let go of the things he clearly didn’t want to include. It didn’t matter what he or his manager was saying, the team seemed to be keen on putting their ideas through no matter what.

“We’ll come to terms, alright?” Jeff pats his shoulder as they walk out of the building. Harry nods, though he doesn’t feel comfortable in the project like he is supposed to.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Rest some. I pushed a little further your interview tomorrow. You have to be there at eleven.”

“Thanks,” he nods at the man and they say their goodbyes before parting ways and heading to their own cars.

Once he is seated behind the wheel, he takes a moment to himself, breathing deep to get his head sorted out, but he just knows this ache in his chest will grow if he doesn’t do something to ease it. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he closes his eyes as he starts a call to Lis.

“Hey! I was just thinking about you.” Her sweet voice immediately eases the tension in his muscles and he feels himself deflate at her words.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Benji showed me his painting he made today and it has this nice guitar on it, I’m sure you’d like it,” she chuckles softly and he hears her shuffling around, she must be cleaning up the kitchen, at least that’s what she usually does around this time once they are finished with dinner.

“I bet it looks awesome,” he mumbles.

“Everything alright? You sound a little… distant,” she says, worry lacing through her words.

“I’m just… tired. Very tired. Just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she coos. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“It’s just work stuff. It’s been a hard week,” he admits, but doesn’t go into detail, not wanting to load out on her. She has enough on her plate without having to listen to his ranting.

“Are you at home?”

“No, I just got done at a meeting. It was shitty, some people just suck,” he sighs in frustration.

“Want to come over?” she asks softly, the question surprises him. It’s a weekday and they didn’t agree on meeting beforehand. “Go home, get the stuff you need and spend the night here, if you want.”

“You sure about it? I don’t want to bother and what about Benji?” Lis chuckles on the other end of the call.

“Benji would jump up the wall if he hears you are coming over. He has been missing you too, Harry. In fact, I think if you come over you won’t be able to get rid of him for a while.”

Harry chuckles lowly, the thought of having to play with Benji whatever imaginary game he just made up warms his chest. He doesn’t mind it, not even a bit.

“I can be there in like forty.”

“That’s perfect. We are starting Finding Nemo just now. Hurry so you can see the end. Spoiler, they find Nemo,” she laughs making him smile as well.

“Alright, see you in a bit.”

 Annalise ends the call, smiling to herself. She still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling Harry brings to her. All the affection and appreciation he has been showing made her swoon and she has no doubt now that she made the right choice when she let him enter her life. She could tell he wasn’t in the best of moods and though he didn’t admit it, he couldn’t fool her entirely. She wanted to be there for him, comfort him just like he does every time she is feeling overwhelmed with life. Harry hasn’t failed to brighten her days whenever it was starting to feel a little too much all together and now she has the chance to do the same for him.

“Popcorn! Popcorn!” Benji chants as he runs into the kitchen, already in his pajamas, holding one of his dinosaurs in his hand.

“Alright, I’m making it now,” she chuckles grabbing a pack and tossing it into the microwave. “Harry will come over in a bit, is that alright?” she asks him and watches his eyes brighten up immediately.

“When is he arriving? Can I show him my painting?” he enthuses right away, making Lis chuckle.

“Of course, already told him about it. He’ll be over soon. Let’s start the movie, he’ll join when he arrives.”

The two of them settle on the couch once the popcorn is ready, she puts on the movie and tries her best to focus on the screen, but she keeps glancing out the window, checking if he has arrived. When she sees his headlights pull up in front of her house, she leaves the comfort of the couch and goes to meet him outside. Luckily, Benji is too invested in the movie to care about the absence of his mother just yet.

When she sees him emerge from the car, she can tell he isn’t his usual joyful self. His shoulders are hunched forward and she can tell he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a while from the circles under his eyes. Looking up his gaze meets hers and he breaks a soft smile at the sight of her in her comfy home clothes.

“Hey,” she greets him warmly and walking up she kisses him sweetly, running her fingers through his hair. He hums against her lips, hands finding her waist lazily.

“Hi. You sure I’m not bothering?” he asks as he grabs his bag for the night from the back of the car.

“Absolutely,” she smiles and taking his hand she pulls him inside from the crispy evening air.

Benji’s head snaps up hearing the front door shut and he immediately leaps out of his seat, launching at the man that just arrived.

“Harry! Come see my painting!” he begs immediately, smacking against him, wrapping his short arms around his waist. Harry chuckles lightly, rubbing his back gently.

“Alright, bud. Show me!”

The three of them move over to the kitchen so Harry can check out the painting on the fridge. Harry listens to everything he has to say, giving him his full attention and Annalise can’t ignore how her heart flutters in her chest at the sight of them. Harry squats down so he is on the level of the little boy who is standing between his legs, talking enthusiastically about the kind of paint his teacher let him use at school. He doesn’t seem to be just acting to be interested, it’s all genuine and that alone almost makes her cry.

Once the show and tell is done, Benji drags him into the living room so they can continue the movie.

“Slow down, Benji. Let me bring my stuff up to the bedroom,” Harry chuckles, but the boy has a strong grip on his hand.

“I’ll do it, just go watch the movie,” Lis offers smiling. Harry presses a kiss to her temple, mumbling a thank you as she takes the bag from him before he is taken by her son.

Bringing it into her bedroom she sets it beside the bed and gets him a clean towel, placing it to the edge of the bed in case he needs it. Once the lights are all turned off she heads back down to the living room, only to find a scene that immediately makes her swoon.

The movie is playing again and has both guys’ eyes fixed on the screen. Harry is sitting comfortable on the couch, slid down a little, Benji cuddled to his side, his little fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt. His head is laid on Harry’s chest while his long, tattooed arm is wrapped around the little boy’s frame. Just as she walked down the stairs Benji mumbled a question about sharks and Harry softly answered, earning a nod from the boy in his arm.

Lis finds herself grabbing her phone from the kitchen island, quietly sneaking up on them, taking a picture of the two from the side. She is more than sure it’s going to end up as her lockscreen sooner or later.

Harry lifts his head and turns towards her when she walks in, making her presence known this time. A soft smile tugs on his pink lips and Annalise can’t push down her wide smile even if she tried. Sitting beside the boys, she leans closer and presses a kiss to Harry’s lips before placing one on top of Benji’s head. This is her silent thank you to Harry for being such an amazing man and he can feel the seriousness behind this small gesture as well.

When Lis is all settled, Benji moves around until his head is still on Harry’s chest but his legs are across his mother’s lap. Harry and Lis exchange one last loving look over the head of the little boy before they both turn their attention back at the movie playing on the screen.

Benji is half asleep by the end of the movie. Harry offers to carry him up to bed, which Lis appreciates a lot. She hasn’t been able to carry him around that much since he has been growing like crazy. Once the boy is all settled in his bed the two of them head into her bedroom. First he takes a quick shower and then it’s her turn. When she returns to the room Harry is lying in bed already, reading something on his phone but he quickly puts it aside when she appears. She quickly gets under the covers and moves close to Harry, resting her head on his shoulder as he circles his arm around her frame.

“I’m sorry you had a shitty day,” she mumbles after a while, his fingers gently caressing her upper arm.

“It definitely got better at the end.” After a short silence, she is the one to speak up again.

“I like having you around like this.”

“Like what?”

Lifting her head she rests her chin on his chest so she can look him in the eyes.

“Domestically,” she answers and his heart starts thudding against his chest so wildly even she notices it.

“I love it too,” he tells her truthfully.

As he stares down at her in the dim lighting of the bedside lamp on her nightstand, he can feel three short words weighing down on him, burning to be said out loud, but he is not sure if it’s the right moment to let them slip. However, as the moments pass by and she is still looking up at him, he simply can’t make himself remain silent.

“And… I love you.”

She seems stunned upon hearing his words, lips parted as her eyes keep fixated on his green ones. Pushing herself up into a sitting position she lets the faintest smile tug on her lips, tasting the words that just rolled down his tongue. Cupping his face she leans down and kisses him blissfully, her cheeks blushing from the joy that spread in her body at his confession.

“I love you too,” she whispers against his lips and he breathes out shakily, a hand flying to the back of her head to pull her into another kiss.

“See? It wasn’t tha’ hard, right?” Harry smiles down at Benji who nods his head, admiring his math homework Harry just helped him finish.

“Thanks. I think I like math now,” the boy nods to himself, making both Harry and Lis chuckle.

“Your opinion about math seems to be changing quite often, Benji,” Lis teases him, but he just shrugs his shoulders. “Go pack your bag for tomorrow.”

Benji climbs off the stool, grabs his notebook and pencils before jolting upstairs. Annalise walks around the kitchen island until Harry can reach out and pull her closer to him, placing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“I wanted to ask you something,” she shyly blinks up at him.

“Go ahead,” he nods. Her hands wander to his stomach, curling the fabric of his shirt around her fingers before letting it go. Harry has been spending at least two nights at Annalise’s, he has his own drawer in her dresser, a toothbrush in the bathroom and even a mug only he uses when he drinks his morning coffee. Following the night he spent here after his shitty day, it slowly became a usual, they both found themselves craving to be with each other and Benji didn’t seem to mind having him over either. Now it’s stretching towards the end of May and they have fallen into a routine of some sort, that seems to be working well for all three of them.

“When school is going to be over I’ll be taking Benji to my parents’ and he’ll stay there for the first two weeks of summer vacation. I’m staying for a weekend as well before I leave him there and I was wondering if… you’d like to come, maybe.”

“You want me to meet your parents?” Harry asks, stunned at the sudden invitation, but it surely warms his heart, knowing that she is ready to take this next step.

“I mean, if you don’t think it’s too soon or something. We’ve been dating for only what, like two months?”

“Something like that,” he nods licking his lips.

“Don’t feel pressured, it’s just that I told my mum about you and she really wants to meet you. But I understand if you want to push it back a little.”

“You told your mum about me?”

“Of course,” she smiles shyly. “She is dying to meet this new, charming boyfriend of mine.” Her smile turns into a smirk that’s surely contagious. Harry mirrors her expression before pecking her lips softly.

“I would love to meet your parents, Lis.”

Her eyes light up and he knows he would do anything to see her happy. Meeting her parents feels a tad bit scary but he is also excited, knowing that she trusts him and counts on him on such level is comforting.

“Great. Then get ready to be questioned by my mum, she can be a pester sometimes, but I have no doubt you’ll pass,” she chuckles before kissing him fully.

“So Benji will be away for two weeks?” he asks, seemingly deep in his thoughts.

“Yeah.” Harry licks his lips, eyebrows furrowed and Lis can tell the gears are turning wildly in his head. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just an idea. You can say no if you don’t feel like you’re comfortable with it, but… I was thinking that you could stay at mine for those two weeks. Would be nice to come home to each other, start our days together and all. But it’s just an idea, you can absolutely tell me if yo—“

“I would love that,” she cuts him off smiling, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. “I think it would be great.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she nods smirking, her thoughts already wandering off to how convenient it’s going to be to be around each other all the time when they are not working. No interruptions, no third parties, just the two of them in the comfort of Harry’s home. She would be crazy to say no to that.

“Great,” he smiles, eyes shining bright. “I’ll make you a copy of my keys then.”

Suzan and George Lloyd live in the outer skirt of Manchester, a place that almost feels like home for Harry as well. The cozy looking town house appears to be old, but it’s clear that it is well kept, thanks to all the hours the couple puts into it.

“Grams! Gramps!” Benji cheers in excitement once Harry parks down on the driveway. The red front door opens and a short, curvy woman appears, her chestnut hair in a short ponytail, a green apron covering her front.

“She is big on kisses,” Lis warns Harry before they all get out of the car.

Benji runs up to his grandmother happily, giving her a tight hug as the woman coos at him lovingly. Lis grabs Benji’s bag while Harry carries hers and his, walking up to the front door where Suzan is already waiting for them with open arms.

“Lisie! Come here!” she cheers, her laugh chiming sweetly as she wraps her arms around her daughter, kissing her cheek several times.

“Hi mum. How are you?”

“Fantastic now that I have my favorite grandson with me!” she cheekily answers winking at Benji, though they all know he is the only grandson she has.

“Mum, this is Harry, my boyfriend. Harry, this is my mother,” Lis introduces them to each other. Harry drops the bags to the ground with a wide grin on his face that brings out his dimples well. Suzan immediately falls in love with them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lloyd,” he politely greets her, though she waves in dismissal.

“Oh, call me Suzan. Come here, Dear!”

They share a warm hug and just as Lis warned him, he feels Suzan kissing both his cheeks welcomingly.

“You surely are more handsome than in the photos!” she exclaims, making Harry chuckle.

“Apologies, she is a big Google user,” Lis huffs, but Suzan ignores the comment, tugging her family inside.

George appears from the kitchen, chewing on something as Benji jumps into his arms.

“Gramps, we will go fishing, right?” he asks in excitement.

“Of course, Benji. Next weekend?”

“Yay!”

“Lisie!” George cheers and envelopes his daughter in a hug after he has put Benji down. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you, Dad,” she smiled. “This is Harry. Harry, this is my dad.”

“Nice to meet your, Sir,” Harry smiles at him as they shake hands and luckily, George returns his smile with a gentle pat on his shoulder.

“Call me George. Nice to meet you too.”

Soon enough Lis goes upstairs to help Benji get settled in the room that used to be hers but now mostly used by the boy when he is staying over, leaving Harry alone with Suzan and George. Suzan has brought some tea and biscuits into the living room and she joins the two men as George is already asking him about what he really does for a living.

“Lisie said you are some kind of celebrity?” George explains, looking a little puzzled at the information though.

“Kind of,” Harry nods. “I’m a singer and song writer.”

“George, I showed you his song the other day!” Suzan chimes in, sitting in the armchair.

“Which one? You show me so many things a day, I can’t remember all of them!”

“The one with the video about the fish!”

“Fish?” George grimaces, trying to find his memory of what his wife showed him, but then it pops in and his expression smoothes out. “Oh! That one! That’s a nice song!”

“Of course it is!” Suzan exclaims. Harry finds the conversation rather endearing. It’s always so relieving to meet people who are not so caught up in the world of fame, having trouble to even remember his full name. Though Suzan has done her homework digging online, it’s still clear that she hasn’t heard much about him beforehand and Harry prefers it this way, not having to worry about and secondhand judgment from the media.

Suzan turns to Harry and her eyes give it away that she is about to have a few serious words with him.

“Harry, I’m so glad you could make it this weekend. Lis talked so fondly about you on the phone.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

“It seems like Benji likes you a lot too.”

“He is an amazing little boy.” Suzan lets out a long breath and he knows this is where the real talk begins.

“I can tell your intentions are the best with her, but please be extra careful with them. She has had enough trouble with Austin, she doesn’t need another heartbreak, yeah?”

“I completely understand your concerns and I can assure you, I’m always doing everything in their favor.”

“That I know, Harry,” she smiles. “But sometimes things just get harder and people tend to forget you have to fight for what you thought was already fully yours.”

Harry holds his gaze on hers as he savors the meaning behind her rather wise words. He knows it was no thread, but a reminder that they won’t be always this happy.

“Will try my best,” he nods, meaning every single word.

It’s a silent agreement between the two of them that Harry will hope to keep forever. Benji comes running down the stairs, Lis following behind him as they join the three of them in the living room. Benji sits on Suzan’s lap, rambling about his last fieldtrip he had with his class as Lis sits beside Harry on the sofa. She places a hand to his knee, squeezing it softly and his palm covers her hand instantly.

“You alright?” she quietly asks him.

“Yeah,” he smiles and leaning closer he pecks her lips shortly before they both turn towards Benji and Suzan.

Monday morning, when Annalise’s alarm goes off on her phone, she can’t tell where she really is for a moment, it is until she hears Harry groan behind her, an arm lazily thrown over her stomach. They arrived back from Manchester the previous night and after a quick trip to Annalise’s house, they both moved over to Harry’s place where they are set to spend the next two weeks, something they both have been looking forward to.

Harry places a soft kiss to her shoulder before rolling to his back, blinking the sleep away from his tired eyes. Though they both knew they would have to wake up early in the morning, it didn’t keep them away from using their alone time for their satisfaction.

“Mm, I know you love your job, but right now I wish you would just quit it,” Harry mumbles, eyes still closed as he is trying to gain strength to get up. Lis chuckles softly, cuddling to his side.

“You know… I forgot I don’t need to get Benji ready now so we are about half an hour early,” she inquires, hoping Harry would get the real meaning behind her words, however he is too tired to do much thinking about what she truly meant.

“Great, 30 more minutes of sleep,” he exhales.

“Or…” Lis pushes herself up and swings a leg over Harry, getting on top of him and the position surely makes his eyes pop open. “We could use our time wisely,” she suggests with a coy smile.

“Rise and shine, baby,” he sings, his hands grabbing onto her hips as he turns them over, getting on top of her while she laughs at how quickly she could get the sleep out of his eyes.

After they have successfully used their extra time wisely, Harry convinces her to let him drive her to work.

“Then you’ll have to pick me up too.”

“Well of course. We could go grocery shopping together on our way home. Want to cook you something nice,” he smirks at her, finishing up his morning coffee.

“Sounds good,” she nods, accepting his offer at last.

The two of them get ready to leave and though it’s still a bit strange to spend their morning together at such a peaceful and private manner, they can’t deny how much they love being alone. Harry loved having her around, see her brushing her hair while he was getting dressed, move around each other in the kitchen while making breakfast. His home has never felt better than at that very morning with Annalise there with him.

“I’ll be here at four,” he smiles at her once they arrive to Golden Sunshine. Leaning over the shifting gear she pulls him in for a quick goodbye kiss.

“Don’t be late,” she smirks playfully before getting out of the car and heading inside. She turns back before entering the building, seeing that Harry is still watching her. She smiles and waves at him before walking inside.

Eloise and Bart are right there as always, the old lady’s eyes immediately lighting up when she sees Lis arrive.

“Darling! You look stunning!” she gasps looking at her.

“Thank you. You look nice as well. Is that a new cardigan?”

“Well, yes! My granddaughter bought it for me!”

“Looks amazing.”

“Thank you. Now tell me, what is it that got you all bright this morning? I don’t tend to see people this happy on Monday mornings.”

Lis stops in her way, her eyes wandering over to the front door. Harry is gone, but the thought of him still lingers in her mind, making her smile with every bit of it.

“It’s love, Eloise,” she answers shortly before making her way into the changing room.

Before starting her shift she drops by her boss’ office to sign her attendance sheet for last month. As she puts her hair in a low ponytail she walks into the room that’s used as a waiting area in front of Mark, her boss’ office. Immediately, she is greeted by Grace, the assistant there.

“Good morning, Annalise!” she nods in her way smiling. “Good thing you dropped by, Mark wants to talk to you.”

“Am I in trouble?” she asks right away, but Grace shakes her head.

“Don’t think so.”

Just as it’s said, Mark rushes through the door with a pile of papers in his hands, his colorful tie a little crooked, but he looks just as nice as every day.

“Oh! Lis, so happy you are here so I don’t have to hunt you down,” he jokes. “Come into my office, will you?”

Lis follows the man inside and sits in one of the plush armchairs in front of his desk. He stacks the papers on the side of the desk before taking his seat behind it.

“Benji gone already?” he asks nicely. Mark knows Benji very well, the boy loves him and Lis is thankful Mark is so understanding about her role as a mother first and foremost.

“Yes, dropped him off this weekend.”

“Great,” he nods, a hint of worry in his eyes.

“Mark, what is it you wanted to talk about? You are starting to worry me.”

“I wouldn’t want that, but I need to tell you about something. You know the new assistant I hired for the weekends, right?”

“Yes, I met Violet the other week,” she nods, cautiously waiting for him to finally make sense.

“She is still learning her ways around and I swear she didn’t mean to bring trouble upon you,” he explains, clearly worried about the situation on hand that Lis is dying to finally unfold.

“Mark, just tell me what it is about!” she begs.

“We got a call this weekend from a man. He was asking around about you. Wanted to know if you are working here. Violet didn’t think anything of it and told him that you in fact work here. She said he started asking when your shifts are and how often you are in, that’s when she found it suspicious and told him she can’t provide any more information. She didn’t find out his intentions, but she indeed got his name.”

Though it hasn’t been said out, Lis has a strong guess who it must have been and the eerie gut feeling inside her stomach is more painful than ever.

“Who was it?” she asks, voice barely more than just a whisper.

“He said his name was Austin.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Styles,” the woman behind the cash register smiles as she hands Harry his receipt along with the two hard paper bags, the well-known name GUCCI printed over them neatly.

“Thank you,” he smiles in his way, sliding his wallet into his back pocket before grabbing the bags and heading out of the store he just spent an hour trying on outfits. He is always highly welcomed in any of their stores and judging from the amount of money he usually leaves after a spree, it won’t be any different anytime soon.

“Gucci should change its name to Styles, man,” Mitch jokes as the two men approach the exit.

“That would be cool, right?” Harry smirks.

There are three photographers already waiting for them near his car and the moment they set their feet outside the questions start, flashes are ticking every second, all of them trying to get a good shot of him. He doesn’t blame them, he hasn’t served anything mentionable lately, he was barely even seen out in public since he has started going out with Lis and he was kind of getting used to the quiet and peace, however he hasn’t forgotten what his life is really like.

Ignoring all questions thrown in his way, the two men simply get into the car and drive away, luckily, they don’t get followed. It only happened a handful of times to Harry, but he definitely didn’t like it.

“Can you drop me off at Sarah’s?” Mitch asks after checking his phone.

“Sure. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, she just asked if I could help her put together her new coffee table.”

“Didn’t she buy one just last month?”

“She did, but… it wasn’t too durable,” Mitch mumbles under his breath, making Harry gasp at his comment.

“Oh shit!” he laughs. “I’m not sure if I wanted to know this detail, but anyway, congrats man,” he teases him, Mitch only smirking shyly.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t ruined anything ever while having sex.”

“Never said that,” he smirks smugly.

“I’m not gonna ask what you and Lis broke, I have too much respect for her,” Mitch laughs and Harry pays him a playful smirk. To be honest, they haven’t broken anything, but his headboard was creaking quite vigorously this morning for sure. He knows it’s just a matter of time and chances that they destroy something at either his or her place.

“How is living together working out so far?” Mitch asks, changing the topic.

“It’s been not even a whole day,” Harry chuckles. “But I love it so far. For the first time in so long, I finally feel like everything is just heading right.”

“That’s amazing. I’m happy for you,” Mitch smiles genuinely at him. “You really should bring her around sometime, we are all dying to meet her. Sarah wouldn’t shut up about it,” he adds chuckling.

“I know, she’s been hinting it to me as well,” Harry smirks. “Will try to make it happen. Maybe this weekend? It’s a little easier without having to worry about Benji. Not that he is a burden, of course.”

After dropping Mitch off Harry heads to Golden Sunshine, since it’s nearing five. This week, Lis agreed to work a usual shift so she’ll have the whole weekend off. He arrives a little earlier so he starts to write a quick list what they would need to pick up at Tesco on their way home. Just a few minutes after five, the door opens and Lis walks out, a wary look on her beautiful face as she roams around stepping outside, her eyes landing on the car and the man inside waiting for her.

“Hey,” Harry beams, kissing her quickly when she gets in the car.

“Hi,” she greets him, a little out of breath, looking a tad bit on the edge.

“Everything alright?” he asks, starting the car and leaving.

“Yeah, I just… had a tiring day,” she breathes out, flashing a weak smile at him.

Walking around Tesco they quite forget about themselves, holding hands and simply acting like any other couples as they fill up the cart with everything they need at home. They both notice that people recognize him and she can’t ignore the stares they are getting, but it’s not like they can do anything about it. Earlier, they’ve had a talk about this side of Harry’s career, if they would want to keep out of public or simply not care about it at all. They uniformly agreed to choose the latter. Harry wouldn’t talk about her and they would just simply pretend not to care about the curious eyes and talks. Sooner or later, it will all die down and it’s not like they could hide forever.

But after all, this is the first time they are caught, undeniably together with their hands intertwined and though they try to stay low, people notice them. Pictures of the two of them slowly but surely make their way around the internet and the first headlines appear about Harry’s new romance.

Saturday has finally brought the first time Lis is meeting Harry’s band. The lot is heading out for a simple dinner, but his friends can’t wait to finally meet the woman who has Harry on his knees since day one.

It’s been a tiring, but wholesome week for the pair, spending so much time together, they’ve been quite enjoying the comfort of being alone.

However, the wariness Harry has noticed on Lis earlier the week didn’t seem to fade. He asked her several times if everything was fine, but she assured it was all good and he told himself she must just be feeling a little lost without Benji around. He knows, because he has found himself feeling the same. He has gotten so used to him being around it was starting to feel weird not hearing his curious questions every time they were watching a movie.

Following a lazy day at home they get ready for dinner and head out to meet the band. Lis has been paying extra attention to her looks since their pictures got out from their grocery shopping trip. When Harry told her she didn’t have to worry about looking so spotless all the time she simply answered: “Can’t have them talk about you dating an uggo, right?”

To which Harry replied: “That can never be the case when it comes to you.”

It surely warmed her heart to know he finds her pretty regardless of what she is wearing, but she still feels the need to look presentable, especially when Harry is always dressed so nicely.

Tonight, she is wearing wide-legged checkered pants and a sleeveless turtleneck tucked in it, paired with silver hoop earrings. Emerging from the bedroom Harry takes her in smiling.

“You look so serious yet fun at the same time,” he hums, eyes still roaming her body.

“Is that good?” she chuckles lightly.

“Definitely,” he nods. “Ready to leave?”

“Yeah.”

On the way to the restaurant, Harry notices how she’s been checking her phone more frequently than usually and it’s been like this for a few days now. When he asked she said she was just texting with her mum, getting updates about Benji and he didn’t have any reason not to believe her.

“There she is!” Sarah cheers as soon as the pair walks into the place. Jumping from her seat she rushes over and pulls Lis into a tight hug, making her chuckle. “I’m so happy we can finally meet you! I’m Sarah,” she grins widely, giving her two kisses on the cheeks.

“Hi, Nice to meet you. I’m Annalise, but I guess you already know that,” she jokes with an airy laugh.

“There was no other way with this dude always talking about you,” Sarah chuckles giving a look to Harry, who just shrugs his shoulders, not even trying to mask his affection towards Lis. “Come on, only Charlotte is missing, but she is always running late.”

Arriving to their table Lis is greeted by the rest of the band and everyone warmly introduces themselves to her, Charlotte arriving just when Harry and Lis take their seats at the table. Though Harry had no doubts Lis would get along well with his friends, it’s still relieving to see her get settled so easily with the band. He can sense her restraint at the beginning, but soon enough she is talking and telling stories as if she knew them all for years.

“How do you make summer vacation work with Benji? Harry said he is spending time with his grandparents now,” Sarah questions over the main course and Lis seems a little taken aback, which Sarah immediately recognizes. “Oh, I’m sorry, should I not ask about him?”

“No, it’s alright. I just… I guess I didn’t think Harry shared much about him.” Her eyes wander over to the man in question who is deep in conversation with Mitch, didn’t even hear what Sarah asked.

“Oh please, he wouldn’t stop telling us about him every time we are at the studio,” she chuckles.

“Really?”

“Yeah. He really likes the boy.” Lis just packs it all up in her head, labeling  it as another reason why she loves Harry so much.

“Well, he is going to go out to camp for a week, but other than that, he usually comes to work with me.”

“That’s so amazing!”

The evening carries on and Harry can’t not notice how Lis keeps glancing down at her phone every five minutes. One time, when she reaches for the phone his hand grabs hers, stopping her from grabbing the device.

“You sure everything is alright? You keep looking at your phone.” He tries to find a hint, anything in her eyes that gives away why she is acting different, but she cautiously keeping her gaze diverted from his.

“I’m good, don’t worry,” she answers, but when her phone lights up, an incoming call from her mom, she immediately snatches it from the table and excusing herself she walks out to the street to answer the call.

Harry clenches his jaw, looking after her, knowing well something is not right, but he doesn’t know why she wouldn’t tell him what it is about. He tries to stay still, to let her get it sorted out as she wishes, but he just can’t.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbles to the group before going after Lis.

Walking out he stops at the entrance, looking both ways before she spots her at the corner of the building, her back facing him as she holds the phone to her ear, leaning against the brick wall. He has a fleeting thought about not eavesdropping on a conversation that wasn’t meant for his ears, but his curiosity and worry brings him forward.

“But you didn’t tell him right?” her voice is heard when he is a few steps away from her. “Maybe I should bring him home earlier… But mum, what if he just turns up there? He knows you live there, I can’t have him just waltz in… No, I get it, but there’s little you can do when he is there… I really don’t know… He hasn’t, but it’s a matter of time, I think. He already knows I work there and God knows why he was asking around about me.”

Harry soon realizes what the conversation must be about and he is definitely not impressed by several reasons. Standing there with his jaw clenched, he waits for her to end the call and realize his presence. When she finally says her goodbye, pushing herself away from the brick wall, Harry watches her turn around and jump at the sight of him.

“Harry, you—“

“What’s going on?” he cuts her off right away, eyes burning down on her.

“I, uhh—Can we… Can we have this conversation at home?” she pleads quietly.

“Just tell me what it’s about, because I thought I was seeing things when I noticed that you’ve been acting weird, but I was clearly right. There is something and I want to know what it is.” “Harry, I really don’t want to ruin the evening with it now.”

“Nonsense, because there’s no way I can just act like everything is fine until we get home.”

Exhaling shakily, Lis realizes she can’t push it back any further, she has to come clear.

“Last weekend, when we were away, Austin called Golden Sunshine, he was asking about me and the girl who works on the weekend accidentally told him that it’s in fact my workplace. He wanted to know stuff about me, but didn’t get much. Then today my mum noticed a car waiting across the street for about an hour. Someone was sitting in it or that’s how she saw. Mum thinks it was him.”

Harry feels his rage build up with each passing moment for two reasons: one being that Annalise wanted to keep it away from him that her ex is suddenly looking for her. Second is that Austin has the nerve to pop up out of nowhere after abandoning his family and creep the Hell out of Lis and basically everyone in her family probably.

“And why didn’t you tell me this? You think I wouldn’t want to know if your ex is suddenly looking for you? That’s pretty major, Lis,” he snaps, having a hard time to contain himself as much as he would like to.

“I didn’t want to worry you, hoped the call was nothing, but the whole car thing is now stressing me out. I would have told you, I just…” exhaling sharply she runs her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know, I guess it feels weird to talk about him with you.”

“It’s not like you are sharing with me your sex life with him, this is stuff that I want to know about, this concerns your and Benji’s safety as well and I feel like I have a saying in those things.” “I know, I’m sorry. It was stupid of me to not tell. Please don’t be mad at me,” she begs, desperate to somehow make it right though she knows she messed up.

She can tell Harry is fuming, his piercing green eyes are filled with the mixture of worry, rage and anger for many reasons, all of them valid in her opinion. She wishes she could go back in time and tell him about it in a different way, but there’s nothing to do now.

“Harry, please say something,” she breathes out, wanting nothing else than to finally hear what he is thinking about. However, he is not letting her in that easily now.

“Let’s get back inside. We’ll talk when we are alone.”

Though Lis wants to protest, she knows it’s what should happen. Nodding shortly the two of them head back inside and push everything down until the end of dinner. It’s hard to focus on their group once they return, they both feel far away from the dinner table.

The evening drags longer than they would have liked, or that’s just how they feel. They try their best to mask their feelings, not wanting to bring their friends into this upsetting situation. However, when they are sitting in the car on their way home, they both notice that they could cut the tension for sure. Lis is chewing on her bottom lip nervously, afraid of what’s been going on in Harry’s head and cursing herself out at the same time for not telling him the first moment.

“I can stay at home tonight if you don’t want me over,” she finds herself saying, voice quiet and reserved. Harry glances in her direction for a split second.

“Is that what you want? You want to go home?”

“No. I just figured you might want some… space.”

“Well, I don’t. So unless you want to go home yourself, I want you at mine.”

It’s relieving, though still not enough to ease her anxiety that’s been clawing on her chest all evening. But at least he still wants her around.

The silence is painful for the both of them and it’s something that hasn’t happened between them since they’ve met. Lis keeps glancing in his way, trying to figure out what he must be thinking about, but it seems like Harry keeps his emotions so much at bay, nothing gives away where his thoughts are lying. She is forced to wait until they can finally talk.

Walking inside Lis feels out of place, for the first time ever since she has started seeing Harry. She watches him drop off his belongings in the bedroom before returning to the living room, a hard look on his handsome face. It seems like he is trying hard to find the right words to start this conversation. Hands on his hips he stands in front of her, eyes fixed on the floor before they finally meet her desperate ones.

“Okay, first of all, is Benji alright? Do you want us to go and bring him home?” he asks with a tired sigh.

“I-I think he is fine for now. Mum says she is keeping a close eye on him.”

“Alright. Just let me know if you change your mind and want him here.”

“Thank you,” she nods shortly and through the bitterness of the situation, she is thankful he still takes the time to think about her boy.

“Okay and now let’s talk about why you kept it from me that Austin has been looking for you. Any specific reason, something I did? Did I make you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it?”

“No! Not at all!” she shakes her head right away. Taking his hand softly she pulls him down to the couch so they sit turned towards each other, her knee brushing against his thigh. Though his hand is a deadweight in her hold, as if he doesn’t want her to hold it, she still doesn’t let go of it. “Harry, I know I can tell you anything and I always do that. I just felt like you’ve had enough to worry about and didn’t want to add to it. I always…” Her voice dies down as she is now fighting with her tears. She’s been putting away these thoughts ever since their first lunch date, when she realized she can’t let go of him and he won’t either.

Harry notices her struggle and pulls his hand out of her hold, bringing it up to her face to cup her cheek. His thumb runs across her soft skin, his eyes falling down at her trembling lips.

“I always feel like a burden to you. I’m not easy to be with because I’m not living the usual life people my age have. It would be hard for a normal guy, but you are not one! I just don’t want to hold you back in any way, but there are things that I can’t change. When I found out that Austin was asking about me I thought this is something I can handle on my own and don’t have to worry you with it.”

“Lis…” he breathes out, starting to finally put together her train of thoughts and though he is still mad, now he is more heartbroken that she is still feeling like she has to be so considerate about him in some cases. “You are not a burden, never was and I can assure you that you’ll never be. I chose to be with you, and not just part of you, all of it. The good, the bad, all of it. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t count on me always, because you can. I want to be there for you no matter what it’s about.”

“I know!” she breathes out shakily, the tears already building up in her eyes. “But I can’t help thinking that one day… you won’t feel the same. Like you’ll be fed up with all the baggage that I come with!”

“What baggage, baby? Your fucker ex? That’s not your fault.”

“Him and… Benji?” she adds.

“Benji is not a baggage, Lis. I love him, would easily do anything for him, he is not a burden in any way. I’m so happy I got to meet him because of you and I’m happy that you are letting me have a part in his life. I already told you, but I’ll never stop telling you that I look up at you so much for everything you do for yourself and for Benji.”

Now she is crying. Hard. The way his eyes filled with nothing but love when he is talking about Benji, it’s all she ever wished for in a man and he is so much more than that. To think that she didn’t even want to let him into her life is a sickening thought, how she didn’t trust him enough to see what an amazing man he is.

Moving forward she climbs to his lap and he circles his welcoming arms around her, holding her close to his chest as she starts sobbing, completely touched by his words.

“I’m sorry I’m so emotional,” she mumbles between sobs. “I just… It’s still so hard for me to understand why…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows exactly what she was thinking about: It’s still so hard for her to understand why he is with her. And it’s heartbreaking to know it’s how she feels, but it also makes him determined to change her way of seeing him for once and for all.

“It’s alright. I just want you to talk to me, okay? I want to know everything that’s important to you, good or bad, doesn’t matter.”

She just nods, holding onto him for dear life. They stay like that for what feels like hours, her crying slowly dies down and he patiently waits for her to breathe normally again, continuously pressing soft kisses to her forehead and the top of her head. When she finally lifts her head up, a small smile plays on her lips and though her eyes are red and puffy from the crying, he still thinks she is the most beautiful man he has ever seen.

“Feeling better?” he murmurs softly and she nods again. “Okay. So what do you want to do about Austin?”

“I haven’t figured it out,” she huffs tiredly. “I don’t even know for sure if it was really him in the car my mum saw and other than the call to my work place, nothing else happened.”

“Is there any reason why you should be afraid of him? Like, has he ever…” Harry doesn’t even get himself to say the word, just thinking about it rages him.

“No,” she shakes her head. “But I haven’t seen him in ages, God knows what he is like now.”

“If you want to move here with Benji, if that would make you feel safer, I’m perfectly okay with that. I have plenty of space for the both of you.”

“You’d let us come here just like that?” she asks, stunned at how easily he is talking about such a major step.

“Of course,” he nods confidently. A soft smile tugs on her lips as she kisses him gently, as a way of saying thank you.

“I think we are fine for now,” she then replies. “But thank you.”

A short silence sets in, both of them are deep in their thoughts, processing everything that happened tonight and there’s one more question stuck on Harry’s mind that he needs to ask.

“So… what happens if he reaches out? If he wants to meet you and Benji?”

Lis sighs heavily, the thought has been haunting her as well all week and she hasn’t come up with a solid answer to this just yet.

“It depends on what he really wants. It’s not like I want him back in my life, but if he wants to see Benji… I don’t think I can tell him no. Legally, he is allowed to see him. It’s a whole different story that I don’t want him to though.”

Her answer was valid and reasonable, though it still brought some uneasiness to Harry. Just thinking about Austin meeting Benji makes him want to scream. The man left his family so easily, like they meant absolutely nothing to him and he is the reason why Lis had to build up her whole life alone. Not that Harry would have liked it better if he was still in the picture, but in his beliefs, a man who abandons his family is simply not a man. Even if he didn’t want to be with Lis anymore, he should have made sure to support her in raising Benji and not just disappear into thin air.

However Harry knows he doesn’t have a say in it and that what Lis said is relevant. The man might have walked out of their lives, but legally he still has the right to see Benji, nothing is stopping him.

Harry keeps his doubts and fears to himself, he needs to be the person Lis can rely on now, whatever is about to happen. It’s all secondary what he thinks or feels right now.

 The two of them stay on the couch for another hour, just talking and sharing and they both feel like it was what they needed. Their relationship was going smooth, but they had to realize they still have a lot to work on and tonight was a step forward. They then have a hot shower together and this time they don’t get carried away, it’s all about the gentle touches, the hot water washing away their worries for a short time, keeping it just an intimate but not sexual moment.

Lying in bed Harry pulls her close, her head lies on his chest as she is drawing little patterns on his chest, her fingers delicately following the lines of his tattoos. Her thoughts are wandering, jumping from one thought to the other until something makes her come to a halt, a soft, ironic chuckle escaping her lips.

“Wha’s so funny?” Harry asks quietly.

Lifting her head, she rests her chin on his chest, her arms spread out over his ribs. It’s not even that funny, more ironic seeing the timeline of their relationship.

“I just think it’s pretty hilarious how I was the one to warn you several times not to make me regret my decisions about you and then I end up being the one thinking that you regretted getting together with me.”

She laughs some more, a smile tugging on Harry’s lips as well, seeing that it’s indeed a little funny, if he thinks about it.

“Oh how the tables have turned,” he grins, kissing her forehead.

“But on a serious note,” she starts, clearing her throat. “Do you have any regrets?”

“None,” he answers right away without hesitation.

“Not even one tiny bit?”

“Absolutely none,” he confirms and pulls his arms tighter around her. She smiles widely, pushing herself up a bit so her lips can meet his.

“Hope it stays this way.”

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NEXT PART

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