#and then seemingly out of nowhere changing their minds and then us all having dinner on Monday together

[corpish]

my life rn feels like a movie but like I have NO idea who the screenwriters are bc every twist is wild

[wildflowerluver]

the mark of a lover

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

5 times aaron had to adjust to physical affection and the 1 time he accepts it

cw: smut/one 18+ section, aaron is insecure, mentions of haley, injury/blood, aaron has anxiety

wc: 3.2k

༺♡༻

1. holding hands

you were not shy with pda, especially with aaron.

since your first date, you always touched him in some way. 

he had picked you up at your apartment, walking alongside you as you headed to your location.

your hand had bumped each other a few times but neither made the move to interlock. for you, it was out of fear that it was too early. he, on the other hand, had an entirely different reason. 

on the way back, however, you made the first move. when your hands brushed together for the second time, you finally laced them together.

you walked from the restaurant, hand interlocked with his as you babbled about your day: what happened at work, coworker gossip, anything that came to mind. at dinner you talked more about each other, not about your jobs.

aaron didn’t hesitate to notice the way your hand will tighten or loosen around his depending on your passion with what you’re talking about.

you stopped at the entrance to your apartment building. he wanted to walk you to your door but you shook your head claiming it was ‘unnecessary to go the distance.’ 

there was one fleeting question from the night, though.

since you had interlocked your hands on your walk back, aaron’s demeanor had changed. 

never in the time that you’ve known him have you seen aaron go shy.

“hey,” you start. “what’s wrong? if you don’t like holding hands we can stop. i don’t mind.”

“no!” he blurts it out quick, a little too fast.

you look up at him, small look of content on your face. you’ve pulled him so your chests are pressed together, both hands interlocked at your side. it takes a moment for his eyes to meet yours. you may not be a profiler but you know his mind, always thinking.

“i don't know,” he mumbles. “i just didn’t think you’d want to hold my hand.”

his revelation makes you frown.

“you’re my boyfriend,” you smile. “of course i want to hold your hand.”

aaron turns away to hide the rosiness on his cheeks. 

“is that alright?” you ask.

he can only think to squeeze your hand, one, two, three times. 

“more than alright.”

2. kisses

you almost always get off of work before aaron. 

his schedule is all over the place. between taking care of jack and traveling for cases, he could be home anywhere from 8am to midnight. your 9-5 guarantees you home by 5:30 at the latest. 

aaron’s on his way back from a case. it’s early when he lands, only 9, and jack is already at school thanks to jess.

he texts you, asking ‘can i stop over?’

you don’t hesitate to respond with a ‘yes’. 

you’re off of work, thankfully, and you bounce on your heels waiting until you hear a knock on the door.

the door is barely open for a few moments before your lips are on his.

“god, i’ve missed you.”

aaron’s taken aback by the display of affection. he doesn’t have time to even kiss back. it was just a quick peck before you wrap yourself around him. 

this might be the first time you kiss him like this, casually, but it's nowhere near the last.

you kiss him before he leaves and when he comes to see you. even in passing, when you get up to grab something, you’re kissing his lips quickly. 

it’s not something he’s used to - not since when him and haley were first dating. but in no way does he mind. 

the blush that crosses his face each time never seems to fade, either.

3. touching 

aaron doesn’t quite understand that you always want to be touching him. 

you hold his hand, you hold his face when you kiss him, and you seemingly always have a hand on him.

he’s at your apartment this time. it was a rough day for you at work and the only person you wanted to be around was him.

you sat on the couch together, pressed into his side as some movie plays on your tv.

“shit,” you curse, hand coming up to press against your forehead as the realization hits you.

“what’s wrong honey?” his concern is genuine, fearing you’re hurt in some way.

you sigh. “just remembered i’m hosting brunch tomorrow for some friends and i forgot to clean up. do you mind if i do a few things while you’re here?”

aaron shakes his head. “not at all. can i help with anything?”

you smile. he’s too sweet.

“i’m alright, thank you though. i shouldn’t be too long.”

you abandon him on the couch, heading into the kitchen to start cleaning up.

aaron tries to focus on the screen in front of him. he wants to relax too. but, he can’t help but notice one thing you do without fail.

each time you walk past him, no matter the distance or what room you’re coming from, you touch him in some way: a squeeze to his shoulder, arm running across his back, hand combing through his hair. something. 

he can’t tell if you realize what you’re doing or not, but it makes him flustered each time. was he really that touch starved?

this time, when you pass him and run your hand across his back, he catches your wrist. he turns your palm over, bringing it to his lips to place a gentle kiss. 

you bite your lip, blushing at the seemingly small gesture.

you escape his grasp and bring your hand up to ruffle through his hair.

his laugh echoes through the apartment as you walk away grinning.

4. cuddling 

you’re first night with aaron is one full of nerves.

aaron invites you over friday night, citing that you can spend the weekend together before he’s scheduled to pick jack up on sunday after his week at summer camp.

you show up at his apartment right on time, weekend bag slung over your shoulder and a shy smile on your face.

he greets you with a kiss, mumbling a “i missed you” as he takes your bag from you.

as he takes your things into his bedroom, you stand awkwardly in the living room. you’ve been here before, several times actually, but this is the first time you’re spending the night. it feels off.

aaron returns a few moments later. he senses your hesitance but doesn’t comment on it. 

you spend the rest of the night lying on the couch. aaron’s head rests in your lap, your hand falling down to comb through his hair as he recounts his week. when his story about jack is cut off by a yawn, you look down to meet his eyes.

“bed time?

he nods. “bed time.”

his hand is firm in yours as he leads you to his bedroom, pointing out where things you may need are.

you pack your own pajamas, though both of you know you’ll end up just stealing one of his shirts from the drawer. you already have a nice collection of sweatshirts, crewnecks, shirts - they’re especially nice to have when he’s away on cases.

you’re trying not to think too much into it, but something feels so right, so domestic, about getting ready for bed together. between flicking water at him when you wash your face and giggling while you brush your teeth, you’re a blushing mess by the end.

aaron kisses your cheek as you’re finishing up. “gotta go check on a few things,” to which you nod.

you get into bed first.

aaron is still maneuvering through the house. you know he’s locking doors and checking his gun safe; standard routine.

in the meantime, you settle further into the sheets. his duvet is soft and the pillows smell like him. you’re shocked that you haven’t spent the night before. 

“honey?” 

aaron’s voice rings through the room. your eyes had slipped shut at this point, arm extended to the part of the bed where he should be. you hum, too tired to give much more of a response.

“do you need anything before i get in bed?”

you shake your head against the pillow, eyes still shut. “just you.”

aaron watches as you peek an eye open and he smiles. you wanted to make sure he was following through with what you wanted. after turning off the bedside lamp on his side, the covers lift and he slides in. 

his warmth envelopes you immediately. he’s practically a personal space heater. you don’t even think twice when you move to curl into him.

you feel him stiffen before you even fully settle. 

retracting immediately, you sit up. you’re thankful it’s dark to hide the clear embarrassment you’re feeling. sure you and aaron cuddled when on the couch, but you hadn’t realized that didn’t translate to his sleeping habits.

“honey-” he starts, arm reaching out to grab your hip.

“aaron, it’s okay.” you want to save the inevitable apology. “if you don’t like cuddling when you sleep, it doesn’t matter to me. really. just being near you is enough.”

his heart creeps up to his throat. he’s so lucky to have you, you’re so good to him.

“no no, it’s not that. i’m just,” he struggles for words. “i’m just not used to it i guess.”

you know what he means without coercing him to explain further. aaron being vulnerable with you is important. any part of him that he shares with you you’re grateful for.

you don’t respond verbally. 

it’s a bit of a struggle to find his lips in the dark. you kiss his cheek at first, then nose, before finally finding his mouth. it’s soft and sweet, innocent.

“it’s okay, handsome,” you whisper. “whatever you’re comfortable with.”

you stay like that for a few moments longer, foreheads pressed together with only the faint light from the nightlight in the hallway providing you some idea of what the other is feeling. 

aaron’s arms hold you around your waist. one hand has creeped under your shirt, rubbing up and down softly. 

he’s pulling you back into him before you can even process it.

you’re where you wanted to be initially, head resting just under his and his arms around you. his defense is down and he’s clearly relaxed. you adjust yourself more, leg slung across his waist and you push yourself further into the crook of his neck.  

“goodnight aaron,” you finally voice. you’re clinging to him like a koala bear.

he kisses your forehead. “goodnight honey.”

5. sex

the second you and aaron stumble into the apartment, his lips are on yours.

you’re both slightly tipsy, having come off of a date night downtown.

you wore that outfit he loved and he chose the one black shirt that makes you want to tear him to pieces. he wore it just for the rise and it had worked.

dinner had gone over as usual, conversation always flowed easily. but, the second you left the restaurant, all bets were off.

aaron held your hip as you walked back to his apartment, though it occasionally drifted down to ghost over your ass. you were flustered and he knew it, not hesitating to drop a comment about it.

the elevator up is even worse.

his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear and you sucked in a breath.

you decide at that moment that that’s not how you wanted to play tonight.

in the stumble from the apartment entrance to the bedroom, you accidentally tear one of the buttons on aaron’s shirt. he doesn’t seem to mind, hands replacing yours to rip the last two before you can push it off his shoulders.

“too bad about the shirt,” you gasp. “was my favorite.”

his hand creeps up to your chin, tilting your head up at him. “i’ll get a new fucking one, i don’t care.”

your lips connect again and it’s a rush to see who can get the other undressed faster.

when you collapse onto the bed, aaron pulls you into him - half on his lap, half at his side. 

you take his moment of distraction as an opportunity. your mouth leaves his bruised and puffy lips and move to his neck. 

it doesn’t take you long to find his spot. you focus your efforts there, biting and sucking to mark him up.

it only takes a few minutes of you kissing his neck before you can tell he’s getting frustrated. you decide you’ve marked him plenty.

to ease his desire, your hand dips below the waistband of his boxers to graze the head of his cock. it’s teasing and aaron is close to begging for you to fully touch him.

he groans instead, fist gripping the sheets below him.

“i’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

you kiss his pulse point again, soothing the forming bruise with your tongue. 

you don’t care in the slightest that he’s going to have to cover his marked neck up. you’ll help him pick out a shirt to hide it or run to get concealer later. right now, he’s yours.

his hands find your hips when you straddle his thighs.

“sorry, handsome. my turn tonight.”

his hands begin to wander - holding your hips, creeping up to your chest, anywhere you can reach. you grab his wrists, not breaking the kiss, and pin then off to the side.

he’s stronger than you, clearly, but allows for you to control this motion.

“god i love you under me,” you mumble.

aaron wants to protest again, flip you over and go down on you like he loves doing. the pleasure feels good, too good. 

and then it stops.

you sit back on your heels, biting your lip at the expression on aaron’s face. his lips part to ask what’s going on but the question never makes it out. you brush the stray hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ears to get it out of the way.

fingertips creep back up to the waistband of his boxers and slowly pull down. your lips press against each inch of the newly exposed skin as it appears.

you look up at him for consent, his nod happening without you even needing to ask.

you take the head of his cock in your mouth, feeling more than good at the sharp gasp aaron intakes. you take a bit more of him in your mouth; he was big and what you couldn't take, you made up for with your hands. 

“y/n,” aaron stammers, hand moving to hold your hair as you bob your head. “god, y/n-”

you pull back for a moment to squeeze his thigh, doe eyes meeting his half-opened ones.

“i got you, baby,” you hum. the vibration makes him buck his hips. “now hush.”

aaron sighs, head falling back as he finally allows himself to go under.

+1 reciprocating 

you heard about aaron’s current case on the news.

four year old gabby hoffer was abducted from her aunts car and was missing.

you texted aaron before he left, you always did - but you sent another. child cases were always rough, everyone knew that. adding on the national attention this case was getting, you couldn’t imagine the pressure the bau was under both physically and emotionally.

he gets back to you half a day later. it’s quicker than you had expected. there had been instances where it had gone days with radio silence.

‘good news?’ you ask, hopeful.

‘yeah, got her home safe. i just really need to see you.’

his message makes you worry. usually after cases he goes home, unwinds. you see him the next day. if he wants to see you as soon as possible, you know this one was bad.

aaron texts you again when he’s taking off, adding in the flight time. only three hours until you can see him.

you make the decision to go to the bau to greet him when he gets there. it’s out of character, but his text from earlier makes you anxious. you’ve seen aaron at low points, absolutely, but this feels different. waiting just doesn’t seem like an option.

aaron’s always told you you’re welcome at work when he’s there. you’re down in his files as a potential visitor and would have no issues getting a pass.

the issue present: his team.

hotch never explicitly told his team about you. mentioning “i have a girlfriend,” felt unnecessary. they were profilers, they could figure it out. and they did.

besides, the privacy and intimacy of your relationship was discussed between the two of you long ago. telling them added an extra risk. when the time felt right, he would introduce you. he had no problems showing you off, believe him, but the anxiety after haley never quite left him.

the team picked up on the changes in their boss’ demeanor fairly quickly into your relationship.

hotch’s signature frown lines seemed to ease up. he was less of a drill sergeant at quantico, even letting the team go home early on occasion. in the field, however, he was as serious as he could be. they caught him smiling at his phone on the jet and rossi pointed out the bruise on his neck he forgot to cover up.

he even kept a framed photo of you on his desk. it was one from the summer, when you and him took jack to the park. jack had crawled into your arms while you were on a bench and aaron couldn’t not take a picture.  

they knew what you looked like, they just didn’t know you. but most were there for the foyet and pressuring their boss to introduce one of the most vulnerable sides of him was out of the question. 

it’s a shock to the entire team to see the lights in hotch’s office on when they step into the bullpen.

it’s late, a weekend too. no one should be here. 

before anyone can react, your head is poking out of the office. aaron practically melts when he sees you, stepping around the others to be at the front.

you’re all but rushing down the catwalk, desperate to see him, to make sure he’s okay.

you stop a foot away, face falling when you notice the dark bruise along his jawline and cut on top. he got hurt.

“what happened?”

fingertips reach up to trace down the cut. his hand reaches to hold your wrist. the skin to skin contact does wonders for him.

“took a beating,” he’s open, honest. there’s no point in lying.

“aaron-”

he stops you. “feels better than it looks, i promise.”            

you’re not confident in his words but it doesn’t matter. he’s here now and you can dote on him until he feels better.

aaron doesn’t waste any time after that, taking one small step to bring you close to him and kiss you gently.

it’s a greeting, a welcome home, a security blanket. one that he initiates.

he doesn’t care that his team is there.

he’s bruised, bloody, and exhausted. the only thing he knows will make him feel better is you.

you pull away first, keeping both hands on his cheek, careful of his bruise, and press your foreheads together.

“wanna go home?”

you already know the answer but you want to hear his voice.

“absolutely.”

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (19) Weather

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 19)

Summary: Rosie is heartbroken. Sherlock and John are furious and sad. An invitation from the elderly Holmes couple, brings back sweet memories, and might be just what the doctor ordered.

Nineteen Years Old

I was devastated and utterly heartbroken when David ended it with me. We’d been a couple for almost a year, and I was still so in love with him. I had failed to observe, had let sentiment cloud my mind, lulling me into a fantasy coated in pink and gold.

I wasn’t the only one affected by this. Dad muttered curses under his breath, while Papa alternated between fury and sorrow. He blamed himself for not seeing who David really was; a young man, too insecure about himself, needing female attention around the clock, which I was unwilling to give. I had my studies, homework, jiu jitsu, family, and my friends to consider as well, and I hadn’t wanted to spend every spare minute with David no matter how much I loved him. In my opinion, I couldn’t be blamed for needing to see other people, whom I also loved, and to maintain my interests. It was part of who I was. Nevertheless, I cried myself to sleep every night to the tones of Papa’s soothing violin.

***

The next weeks went by in a daze, though I managed to study for my upcoming exams, much thanks to the sessions in the dojo, which helped clear my mind of the fog. Finally, the last exam was history and the summer lay ahead of me like a blank canvas. Me and David’s plans for going to Dublin, were obviously abandoned. Luckily, our flight tickets and hotel reservations were refundable.

Congratulations with finishing your exam, love! Are you free to have dinner at home tonight?

Dad’s request piqued my interest, as he most likely knew it would. I had no plans and answered in the affirmative. 

The day was sunny and pleasantly warm, which I felt always was the case when I had to sit inside a poorly ventilated classroom to pour all my wisdom into the exam forms.

“Let’s go to get ice cream,” I proposed to Liwia and Leyla who accompanied me out of the old school building.

“Covent Garden?” Leyla asked.

“Covent Garden,” Liwia and I agreed.

***

“How are you, Bee?” Papa asked when I returned home a few hours later. 

“Not that bad actually. Glad to get the exams over with,” I said.

“Chocolate chips and raspberry,” Papa stated out of nowhere.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” I muttered fondly.

“I guess not,” he admitted a bit sheepishly. “Sorry, if that…”

“It’s fine, Papa,” I assured him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Is Dad cooking or is it takeaway tonight?”

“Neither. I am cooking,” he informed me, cupped my face and kissed my forehead.

“Oh! Must be a special occasion, then,” I teased.

He huffed and told me I could help instead of being sassy. I laughed, went upstairs with my school bag and changed into a pastel green dress. When I came back, Papa ordered me to make a vinaigrette and the salad. We worked in companionable silence, while classical music streamed out of the speakers.

***

“My compliments to the chefs,” Dad sighed contentedly when he’d all but licked his plate.

Papa and I stood and bowed, making lavish and silly gestures. The white wine made us pliant and relaxed. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed sharing a lovely meal with my parents. In the last months, David had always been a part of it, or at least occupied a fair amount of my thoughts. And in that moment, I felt something heavy fall from my chest. I was free and had a whole summer ahead of me to do with as I pleased without having to consult David if he approved, wanted to be a part of my plans and what not.

“So, what’s all this about?” I asked.

Papa smirked, seemingly satisfied that I hadn’t been fooled about the intent of this dinner. 

“As clever as your Papa, aren’t you?” Dad praised. “I would expect no less.”

He straightened in his seat and leant forward to catch Papa’s hand. Papa nodded and turned to face me properly.

“Granny and Pops have invited us to France next week. They obviously didn’t include you because of your initial plans with…”

Papa clenched his teeth and gripped Dad’s hand tighter.

“It’s fine, Papa. I’m getting there. No need to call in the cavalry,” I assured him and stroked his arm. “Tell me more. I haven’t been there in ages.”

“When you were eleven, I think,” Dad mused.

“Twelve,” Papa corrected him, which earned him a kiss to the back of his hand from Dad and a giggle from me.

***

The house Papa’s Grand-Mère originally owned, had been inherited by Granny. A small villa close to Cannes. Théoule-sur-Mer was secluded and far less crowded than the more famous sites of the French Riviera. 

Being back brought treasured memories to mind. The warm and sunny weather, how Dad taught me to swim, Papa taking me snorkelling looking for exotic sea species, Pops reading The Little Prince in French, while simultaneously translating each paragraph, Granny’s coq-au-vin, quiche Lorraine and bouillabaisse. If there was any hint left of my heartbreak, it evaporated the second I dived into the crystal-clear water.

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @raina-at

More tags in the replies

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.73 Solidarity

Dub sent Maia a text, presumably asking if they had dinner plans, or maybe asking how much time they had before boarding the train. He said he was cool to hang, so I told him the restaurant had a strict dress code and I was going to pop over to Dad's house to shower and change. But after the words left my mouth, I realized I didn't know where Dub came from or how long it would take him to get there, so I invited him to come and freshen up if he wanted to. He looked kind of relieved. Did he think I'd leave him or something? Weird.

He looked around and grinned, seemingly impressed with the restaurant, which pleased me because I got at least two aspects of the tour right. Once we were seated, I channeled my mother and wasted zero time getting to the bottom of his relationship status.

"So...this Maia...are you two..."

He may have rolled his eyes, but he never stopped grinning.

"I knew you were going to ask!"

"I mean, you only brought her up 87 times. How could I not?"

"Ha ha," he said, flatly. "Anyway... I don't know, man. I mean, I can see us together for sure, but she dropped something heavy on me today."

"Ouch."

I don't know why, but I remembered Yasmine telling me about her open relationship lifestyle. I was so put off by it, not because I wanted a relationship with her, but I thought we were going to have fun for a little while. Knowing that made me want to hang with her a lot less. Hopefully Maia's news was nowhere close to what Yasmine told me.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "Do you think you can recover and move past it?"

"I think so."

I was very glad to hear that. She sounded like a good sim.

"I like her. A lot. So what she told me shouldn't matter, but still... On top of that, there's this other girl from back home. She popped up on my Social Bunny today and is now on my mind again. But she's off limits, so...I don't know. I'm sorry, dude, I'm rambling. I didn't mean to drop all this on you. I don't have anyone to talk about this with. Anyway, how about? Do you have a girlfriend?"

I felt for him because he reminded me so much of myself. Why couldn't life ever be simple?

"You're good, man. Seriously. I actually don't have any men in my life to talk to either—except my dad. I've enjoyed your company today."

He nodded. A half smile spelled his relief.

"But yeah, I have a girlfriend. Actually, I've been thinking about...well, that's why I was out here today. I've had a lot on my mind too, and I thought a walk around the lake would help."

"How long have you two been together?"

"Officially? Since early winter, but...well...long story."

He chuckled.

"Complicated, huh? I'm very familiar with that."

"What about you? How long have you known Maia?"

"Sometimes it seems like I've always known her, but it's been like a week. Weird, right? My dad once told me that's what it feels like when you're in love. But how can I love someone I've only just met? My parents have an incredible marriage, so I know he knows what he's talking about, but it's crazy."

Gosh, he sounded just like me a week or so ago. At least he could get all of this figured out early in life. At halfway through my young adult stage, I felt like I wasted a lot of time being confused and scared, and I was glad to see him asking these questions and searching for answers.

"It is crazy, but you are not crazy," I said. "I know exactly what you mean because I felt the same way when I first started talking to Sophia. I didn't understand it until recently, but I think your dad is 1000% correct."

"So that's her name. I was wondering. What's on your mind that's got you walking lakes in the middle of the day? Unless that's too personal..."

"No, it's cool. We've had a lot of serious conversations about the future lately, and I think maybe it's time things stopped being hypothetical...if you know what I mean."

"I think I do."

"Yeah... Big movies, man."

He nods in agreement.

"Big moves."

Wade Banks by @mysimsloveaffair

[robogirlwomb]

Two girlfriends, on Halloween.

One is examining her costume in the bedroom. Your basic bedsheet ghost.

The other is carving their Jack-o-Lantern at the dinner table.

The first uses a pair of scissors, delicately cutting two eye holes and a round O of a mouth in the old white sheet.

The second puts the knife down on the table, satisfied with the triangular eyes and wide grin she's carved on the pumpkin.

A breeze blows through the bedroom, seemingly from nowhere, making the sheet rustle in the first girl's hands.

The odd thing about the pumpkin is that... the second girl can't see into it. She should be able to see the carved-out interior, but it's just an inky blackness. And when did she carve that big hole in the bottom, big enough for her head to fit through?

The sheet suddenly is yanked by the wind, out of the first girl's hands wrapping tightly around her face and head.

The second girl slips her head in through the hole at the bottom of the pumpkin, vanishing into the blackness.

Both girls fall still at the same time, motionless.

Their clothes vanish from their bodies, leaving them both nude, though they don't seem to mind the sudden drop in temperature.

The ghost stands up straight, the sheet wrapped around her head, but leaving the rest of her naked form free. She begins to float off of the ground, her feet growing transparent, dangling above the carpeted floor as she floats toward the kitchen.

The pumpkin stares dumbly at the world, her eyes blank, her wide grin never falling away. She slowly climbs onto the table, lying on her back with her legs spread, her girlcock stiffening with anticipation.

The ghost's own girlcock is already stiff and leaking thick ectoplasmic precum as she floats stiffly into the kitchen. The pumpkin giggles eagerly at her approach.

The ghost only pauses as she reaches the table, still not touching the ground, as her transparent girlcock slides into the pumpkin's waiting asshole.

The pumpkin half giggles, half moans as the ghost enters her. No matter how see-through she may be, the sensation is perfectly real, and deliciously pleasurable.

The ghost begins to pump, in and out, back and forth, ghostly hands flat on the pumpkin's shoulders.

The pumpkin doesn't need to do anything but be a waiting, eager hole for the ghost. She lies there, grinning stupidly, no thoughts in her gourd other than being faceless and obedient.

As their orgasms slowly inch closer and closer, their changes continue.

The ghost's sheet grows longer, nestling around her body. Long chains form around her wrists and ankles, and slowly grow away from her, vanishing into nothingness as she fucks her pumpkin.

The pumpkin's body grows rounder and more orange to match her head. Her skin grows hard, other than remaining soft exactly where she needs to be. Long, green vines begin to grow from her form, snaking further and further into the home they share.

Such is the nature of these Halloween transformations. They'll wear off once Halloween ends, no matter how long that winds up being.

The calendar on the wall shuffles in the breeze, the date reading NOVEMBER 1ST. The girlfriends these two spooky individuals used to be had been planning their Halloween party for tonight, it having been the only night they and their friends would all be available.

Those same friends would be in for quite the surprise when they arrived. A Trick, even.

The pumpkin and ghost both moaned low as they orgasmed together, their cum spurting upward, mixing together and splattering down on the pumpkin's upturned belly.

The pumpkin would grin even wider if it could. It was going to be a very, very fun "Until Halloween Ends" for the two of them.

[avatarmerida]

hi!! I just wanted to say that I was the anon who requested huntlow with Willow's parents and im– thank you so much, that was so sweet ;; I love your fics so much! I hope you have a wonderful day, thank you for sharing your awesome writings with people <3 :]

Note: this has been sitting in my drafts since October. I have very bad habit of drafting a response and forgetting about it but I did have an alternate version for the “meet the parents” prompt in mind. Original for reference No FTF spoilers just a headcanon I’ve head for awhile. 💚💛 also thank you so much that is so sweet

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“... and it turns out fireflies don’t actually catch fire in the human realm which is so weird! Like why even call them that?” Willow continued, taking a deep breath as she tried to fit months worth of stories into mere minutes. She knew they would have plenty of time to catch up and she had her photo album to show them but she had just missed her dads so much and had so much time to make up for. “And then, oh wait I should probably let Gus tell you about cars he explains them so much better than I could and we-.”

“Oh petal we’re just so glad you were safe,” said Gilbert as he and Harvey wrapped her into another hug, they had months worth of hugs to catch up on too.

“I mean, I knew you were,” said Harvey, his eyes still stung with tears left over from their reunion. “My daughter is sweet and tough, like a cactus blossom.”

“Oh, you dorks,” Willow sighed fondly, allowing herself to be buried again by their embrace. “I missed you too.”

“We really must meet this Ms. Camila to thank her for taking such good care of you all this time,” said Harvey, giving his family an extra squeeze.

“Yes,” agreed Gilbert, wiping a lingering tear from his daughter’s eyes, still in disbelief that she was truly there with them. “We owe her so much for bringing you back to us. We should have her over for dinner.”

“Oh my Titan yes of course!” said Willow, looking around for the others. The group had separated to focus on different tasks and after Hooty had confirmed everything was done and everyone was safe, she ran off to find the cell where her dads were being kept. ”There’s someone else I really want you to meet too, I just don’t know where-.”

“Willow?” came a voice from seemingly nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

“Hunter?” she responded instantly, looking around to search for him. It felt like lifetimes since she had heard his voice, yet it had only been a day. A chaotic, hard, dramatic day. She turned and spotted him at the end of the row by the entrance of the prison and took off running. “Hunter!”

“Willow?” He turned and saw her running full speed towards him. He took off as well, his heart racing. “Willow!”

The dreamy and desperate way he said her name prompted her to summon a vine to ride on to reach him sooner. She hadn’t wanted to separate, but there was too much ground to cover in such little time they had no choice. Before they had parted, Hunter had wrapped her in a tight hug and Willow wanted nothing more than to return to that moment and now have that same warmth and closeness surrounded with safety and certainty.

He had also whispered something to her right before he left that she wanted him to repeat in a calmer setting to ensure she hadn’t misheard.

In his eagerness to reach her, with the same sentiment in mind, Hunter unintentionally teleported to the spot she had been when he first saw her. She turned and saw him standing there in confusion but she simply just changed directions and ran towards him again. Hunter was so overcome by the sight of her, safe and sound after the terrifying and dangerous day they had endured that the moment he took a step forward, he found himself teleporting again, essentially switching places with her.

Willow couldn’t help but laugh as she realized it had happened again. She ended up back by her dads who watched on in confusion, slowly piecing together what was happening and exchanging a knowing smile between themselves.

“Stay there, I’ll come to you!” They both called at the same time. They both laughed, so overtired and so desperate to be near each other.

“Should I send a vine over?” she called, overwhelmed with anticipation.

“No, no I can figure it out!” Hunter called back, still adjusting with controlling the lingering magic linked to his emotions. “Hold on!”

“Is that him?” asked Gilbert with a smile, knowing from Willow’s overjoyed expression that it could be nobody else. She subconsciously adjusted her hair as she gave them an excited nod to confirm. Despite only having a few minutes to reconnect and try to explain everything, Hunter’s name managed to come up many times. And the bubbly, airy way that she said it with was not lost on her fathers.

They had so missed the way she would roll her eyes when they would playfully ask who she was messaging, the giddy way she would lean against the wall and gaze at her scroll and claim it was no one. They were relieved to know that in the time they were away she had been with someone who made her so happy.

And they were delighted for the opportunity to pester the both of them together.

“Yeah, that’s-.” Before Willow could finish, she was cut off by Hunter teleporting directly in front of her and lunging forward to capture her lips in a purposeful and fervent kiss. His hands delicately cupped the sides of her face, rough and calloused but unmistakably gentle as his fingers brushed the side of her cheek. Willow instantly closed her eyes feeling like she was the one being transported this time as she rested her hands on his chest. It took very little prompting for her to return the kiss and she tilted her head to the side to bring him closer.

When he pulled away, it was only because he wanted to look at her. He was breathing heavily and Willow couldn't tell if it was from all the back and forth or because he had forgotten to breathe while he was kissing her. A part of her wanted it to be because she was just that breathtaking. She felt as thought she might float away if Hunter removed his hands from her.

“-Hunter.” murmured Willow faintly as the rest of the sentence caught up with her. The word left her lips with a new definition and she genuinely wondered how she had ever existed anywhere except this moment. He was surrounded by the glow of a pale pink light, sparkles and shine that far surpassed anything the Collector could summon.

She could tell by the wide adoring look in his eyes that this glow reached her too.

“Willow,” he responded softly, thinking she was saying his name looking for an explanation for his impulsiveness. He spoke quickly, refusing to waste any more precious time. “Willow I- I’m just so glad you’re safe. I just don’t know what I’d do if you were… but I knew you’d be fine, I knew you could handle it but I still… I just-.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, obviously feeling that words were not enough. As much as Willow enjoyed hearing him voice his feelings, she had to admit she wholeheartedly agreed. She smiled against his chapped lips that sparked with warmth as though static electricity was surging through her and sought to flood her chest with lightning.

When he released her this time, he pulled her into him a tight hug, moving one of his hands around the small of her back as the other cradled the back of her head as he buried his face in her hair. Willow exhaled as she eagerly returned the gesture and put her arms around his torso and felt the galderstone in his chest beating furiously, which she knew only occurred when he felt a strong emotion. She didn’t realize how worried she truly had been until she wasn’t anymore.

“Hunter...” she started, stepping back to look at him, placing her hands on his face to wipe away his own tears. She was surprised he had any tears left but she was relieved they were present under happier circumstances. She realized how easy it would be for her to pull him forward and kiss him again, and how much she wanted to. She could tell that that what he was hoping for as she tried to remember what she had begun telling him. She knew there would be plenty of future opportunities now that there was no rush or pressure or end of the world making the decision about whether or not it was the right time. It was hard to imagine that the right time wasn’t all the time .

But the secluded romantic bubble that Hunter had brought to surround them was actually fairly transparent as Willow remembered with flushed cheeks that they had an audience. “Hunter… “ she started again, and he brought his face out to see her, thinking she was giving him permission to kiss her again. He slowly leaned down, but right before he met her lips a third time she finally mustered the strength to finish her sentence. “...these are my dads.” She said slowly, gesturing to this side with her head.

She felt Hunter tense up, mostly in confusion, as his eyes followed her nod and he turned his head slowly to find two older men looking at them with matching smirks, offering him a small wave. He recognized them from WIllow’s drawing in the human realm. He prayed that it was somehow possible that they hadn’t been standing there the entire time. The nervous chuckle Willow emitted confirmed his prayers would be in vain.

He felt the romance bubble pop.

“Hello sirs!” Hunter said, suddenly a combination of pure nerves and formality as he removed his hands from Willow in order to extend his hand to her fathers, not sure whose to shake first. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“From the looks of it, I’d say the pleasure’s all yours,” said Gilbert and both he and his husband chuckled lightly at some inside joke Hunter did not understand but knew he was involved in.

“Ha ha ha, yes of course,” Hunter said, laughing nervously, not sure what else he was meant to do. In all the times he had imagined this meeting, this had never crossed his mind. He was meant to be dressed up and prepared, his arrival planned and with flowers, not returning from battle in a torn Halloween costume with his hair unkempt and caught in the middle of-

“So, our Willow has told us so much about you,” Gilbert said, in a friendly chipper tone. “Clearly, she hasn’t told us everything.”

Hunter glanced quickly at Willow, flustered all over again at the idea that he had come up, as her delicate smile confirmed the claim. As reassuring as her smile always was, Hunter still wondered what he had to live up to and if his impulsiveness had contradicted or confirmed anything. He was sure Willow had been fine with it (actually he was more than sure that she had been more than fine) but he could not decipher how her fathers were feeling.

Was he in trouble? Should he apologize? Would apologizing be taken as an admission of wrongdoing? It certainly hadn’t felt wrong. He wondered now if Luz was hiding somewhere nearby laughing at his expense, having been the one to tell him to go for it the next time he saw Willow. Should he act like nothing had happened? Was he pausing too long thinking these things before audibly responding?

He had just done battle with monsters literally composed of his greatest fears and this somehow felt so much scarier.

He cleared his throat and carefully chose his next words.

“I’d just like to say-.” But before he could finish, he vanished again into a flash of gold. Willow could tell it was his nerves getting the best of him and his panic had removed him against his will. She knew he was probably embarrassed beyond belief that he had allowed himself to be teleported mid introduction, even though Willow knew it had not been done on purpose.

A faint yell of frustration from a great distance confirmed her suspicion. Willow sighed and shook her head fondly, knowing everything about this moment meant to much to him.

And he meant so much to her.

“So does that happen… a lot?” Harvey asked after a moment when Hunter did not instantly reappear.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, kind of.” Willow replied dreamily, still catching her breath. “He’s still getting the hang of it.”

“Oh, really? Should we be be concerned?” Gilbert asked. “Does he know what he’s doing?”

“I think so,” she said, looking down the pathway again, knowing he would reappear at any moment. “It’s driven by his emotions and he’s still figuring out the best way to express them.”

“I see,” said Harvey. “I’m assuming his emotions for you must be pretty strong considering he didn’t even hesitate.”

“Um, well I dunno I guess… wait, are you talking about the kiss or the teleporting thing?”

“Well, I guess it depends,” said Gilbert sharing a knowing look with his husband. “Which one were you talking about?”

a knowing look with his husband before, lowering his glasses to give her a look of intrigue. “Which one were you talking about?”

[batsyforyou]

Of Elves and Men Part 10

Pairing: Beleg x reader

Warnings: I refer you to part 1

Dinner time was fast approaching and you left King Fingon to rest and change while you headed off to your office to think. Holding tightly onto the box of jewelry he gave you. 

Considering the well meant gift, you dropped it carelessly onto your desk as you collapsed into your chair. You held your head in the dark, feeling exhausted. 

Everything had spilled into chaos. What started as an innocent attempt at friendship spiraled into an active act of defiance against Morgoth that you knew he would hear about, a surprising friendship and shared interests with the King of the Noldor, revelations about Johanne’s and Beleg’s long and successful friendship, Bjorn’s apparent jealousy and Thomas’s budding new relationship. 

You felt overwhelmed with everything and alone. 

Sighing you thought, how could it get worse. Cringing you remembered your Lord’s letter and fished it out of your pocket to read. Lighting a candle. 

To Y/n, my servant. 

Charged with the duty to care and maintain the Northern and Western Quarter, 

It gladdens my heart to hear of your most recent success! You have always been active and successful with your tasks as you care diligently for my people. 

And I thank you. 

As evidenced by your recent actions I believe your presence at an up and coming meeting, taking place this Spring, will be beneficial and I ask that you join us. Another letter will be sent detailing instructions to you. 

Though, I admit to my own folly. 

I neglected to inform you and commanded my servants to keep the news quiet but I think it time to tell you. 

The people that attempted to assassinate you and remove you from power—they were executed not two months ago. 

You didn’t bother to read the rest as the ringing in your ears covered your thoughts and numbed your senses. 

They were . . . dead? 

You bit your lip to keep from crying but hot tears spilled from your eyes anyway and you sobbed. 

You felt pathetic. Most people would be thrilled to know that they were gone! But your mind couldn’t stop remembering them as more than the people who left you for dead. 

They were the people who helped repair your splintered barn door while in the middle of a storm. People who helped you track down runaway chickens in the woods. The people who laughed with you in your kitchen as Rosetta and Evelyn threw flour at each other while you ducked behind your silver tray. People who comforted you when you cried and invited you to join their families for the holidays. 

You covered your mouth and moaned out in agony. 

Despite what they did—

They were family.  

It’d been a long time since you last felt this feeling but you recognized it almost immediately. 

Resentment. 

Beleg sighed as Johanne continued to show him the different things she had added into the kitchen. Everytime he thinks she is finally finished she will say, “Ooh!” And will suddenly pull him along to someplace else or whip out a kitchen utensil from seemingly out of nowhere and show him. 

“And this here—” She said pointing to the flowers she had in a decorated vase—” It is from Y/n, can you believe it?!” 

She sighed wistfully and hugged the vase and flowers to her chest. “They got it for me on one of their trips to the eastern villages. It was made by the hands of a dwarf and had been given to one of the families there as a wedding gift over a century ago. The family had fallen on hard times and had decided to sell it and they bought it for me!” 

He smiled at her, he was used to her more witty and playful side and while she did often talk about her liege fondly he hadn’t seen it in person. 

He brushed his hair over his pointed ear, “That was kind of them.” 

She grinned. “Wasn’t it?” She sighed. “Y/n is one of the best friends I’ve had and the greatest master I’ve had the privilege to serve.” 

He watched as other servants in the kitchen with them cooked and prepared for the festival and they all looked to Johanne with smiles on their faces. 

“There was a time where I had suffered a recent death in my family but I couldn’t attend the funeral because I could not afford to travel. Y/n had noticed my behavior and had asked me what was wrong and when I explained it to them, they paid for my trip and gave me enough coin for four months, so I may spend that time with my family!” A woman called out. 

Beleg smiled at her. “That was very gracious of them.” 

The woman blushed and another piped out. “My fathers barn caught fire five months ago and they had it rebuilt and stocked with animals again! When they were asked why, they simply said that my father had been kind to them before and wanted to repay him.” 

Beleg nodded to her. “That was most considerate of them.” 

The woman sighed and seemed like she wanted to swoon, her smile was so silly. 

From beside her another woman raised her hand high in the air, “Oh, oh! Don’t forget when Y/n made a statue in honor of Lord Arthur! They put it in the gardens.” 

He grinned. “That was quite charitable.” 

Johanne snickered and leaned into his side and his ears perked. “You’ve caught their attention.” She whispered. 

He gave her a sheepish smile as he nodded. “It would appear so.” From outside in the hall he could hear the sound of music and he looked. The festival must have started. 

Some of the other servants went about preparing trays while others poured drinks into sparkling glasses. He frowned, curious, and wandered over to them. “Where are these from?” 

Johanne hummed and looked. “Oh, those were sent from Lord Caranthir. They were sent several months ago but had only just arrived two days ago. He sent a letter too.” 

He raised a brow. “What did it say?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure they read it yet but they commanded us to use them for tonight.” 

She smiled. “Y/n has always been fascinated with the culture and history of the elves. So, they were quite excited when they saw them.” 

He nodded. “I see.” A clinking sound came to his ears and he caught a whiff of something he recognized but he couldn’t place it. Humming he wandered over to the tall jugs of wine and observed it as people drew from them. “What are these?” 

Ears twitching at the sound of a spoon clinking against a glass, he heard Y/n’s voice, “Attention please, attention! My good people—”

“Oh, that's the wine for tonight. We have others for the coming days but that's most of it.” She pointed to a tan jug on the far right of the group. “That one there is the wine we serve to Y/n. They are very particular about their wine as they can only drink certain kinds.” 

He nodded and crossed over, opening the lid and taking a long whiff, frowning, “You said this is the wine you gave to Y/n?” 

Johanne nodded and joined his side. “Yes, this is one of their favorites.” 

Taking a cup he dunked it in and brought the drink to his nose. Johanne frowned. “Is something wrong?” 

Taking one more sniff it finally hit him and he dropped the cup into the jug and looked horrified as he raced to the door. “It's been poisoned!” 

You stood from your chair tapping your glass with your spoon to gather the people's attention as they slowly quieted down. 

“I thank you all for attending tonight.” Your voice carried strongly over the heads of the people. “As you all know, this night and the many nights following are in your honor!” 

The crowd cheered in excitement and you smiled, raising a hand to calm them. “About this time a speech would be made but I think we all would rather return to our food and drink.” 

The crowd hollered out an agreement and you laughed thrusting your glass into the air. “So, I’ll just say this! I have never known a more loyal and hardworking people. And I have never been more proud—” Your eyes teared up and your voice became watery and you cleared your throat— ”To have served with you these last few years.” 

The people were pleased to hear this whistling and clapping. Your eyes scanned the room, looking for Johanne and Beleg, as you couldn’t help but wonder where they were, they were supposed to join your table tonight. Instead, you meet the twinkling eyes of King Fingon and the watering eyes of Thomas as he subtly wipes a tear from his eye with his lady friend beside him.

“And I hope to have many more years with you.” You raised your voice shouting, “To the many years ahead of us and to our new friends!” 

The people cheered and clinked their glasses together toasting. 

You made a mental note to pull Thomas aside and praise him for all he had accomplished through this festival. He deserved to be made aware of how special his contribution was. 

You brought your wine to your lips to drink, feeling its smoothe richness cool your throat. 

“Wait!” A hand batted your cup from your lips and you startled back with a yelp, choking on what remained stuck in your throat. 

“It's poison!” 

A collective gasp was heard, and chaos erupted. People were screaming and shoving at each other to run while others spit their drinks out. 

You coughed, choking on your drink as the King’s guards rushed to their King. Your own guards taking away the person who had slapped your cup. Blinking harshly you raised your eyes to meet startling blue ones and you fell to the floor, wheezing. Beleg.

 “Y/n!” 

Thomas slammed to his knees beside you, golden hair covering your vision as he heaved you to your feet, shouting orders you could no longer hear and your heart slammed painfully against your chest. 

Within the next moment you were gone.

You woke up groaning, your body crying out in pain. 

“Easy, easy.” A voice said. “Your body has been through quite a strain.” 

You moaned and blinked open your eyes, vision cloudy and blurry. 

An elf smiled down at you, patting your arm. “There we go, see? That's better.” 

You had no idea what she was talking about but didn’t bother questioning it. She helped you sit up, giving you water to drink and telling you to sip at it. The wet coolness felt amazing against your sore throat and you sighed. 

“I’ll go fetch the others.” 

You barely got the chance to nod before the elf slipped out the door. Feeling dizzy, you laid back down taking deep breaths.

A knocking came from your door and Thomas burst through with Bjorn following behind. 

“Y/n, you're awake!” 

He collapsed to his knees beside your bed, taking your hand. “I’ve been so worried!” He placed a kiss on your hand. “Thank goodness King Fingon had been here! The elves had knowledge enough to save you, though only barely.” 

And he rambled off. 

Talking about things you couldn’t understand with your aching head and things you couldn’t find the energy to care about. You felt sad and heavy.

 It was many days after that Thomas had decided to fill you in on what happened. As you hadn’t asked. Nor did you move from your bed. Having not spoken a single word since.

Part 11

Masterlist

[sourwormsaresour]

It’s Risotto’s birthday and Formaggio had the great idea to take the entire team to all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ. It’s not their first time eating here, but it’s definitely not their last. 

So, here are my headcanons on what eating KBBQ with the boys would be like. 

Illuso doesn’t mind KBBQ but he can’t stand smelling like grilled meat and gas/coal after a meal, so he spends most of his time in the mirror world when the crew goes out to eat. At one point, using the mirror world was La squadra’s way of doing AYCE without having to pay for more per people (because they can just have Risotto bring a mirror, hand the food to them there, and everyone else is in said mirror grilling as they please), but the team ultimately decided that it was way better to just pay for everyone and eat in the restaurant than stay in the mirror world with Illuso just to eat for cheaper. Illuso will complain about how the meat is cooked or how he’s going to smell awful afterwards- and then proceeds to eat all the meats before anyone can have barely a taste. Every time the team goes to eat, someone simply brings and props up a mirror near the grill and have him grab meats from it whenever he pleases. Servers are scratching their heads when they notice a random arm popping out of seemingly nowhere to grab a piece of sam gyeob sal like a horror movie. 

Prosciutto doesn’t mind having his clothes smell after KBBQ surprisingly; he claims he is doing what South Koreans do when it comes to walking out of a restaurant smelling like grilled meats after a good meal. In fact, he’s on meat grilling duty most of the time. His job is to make sure everything is cooked to order quickly and properly so that all the team members are fed. Like any senior citizen, he’s a karen who would complain about things like not getting any meats in quickly, the wait time being too long, the grills not being changed quickly enough, etc. He’s ordering the meats too and wants to make sure that the team get’s their money’s worth. That means ordering the better cuts of meats if available like kalbi and duck and yelling at his teammates for eating 5 hours before dinner (not even a cookie is acceptable). He gets pissy if anyone tries to order what he deems as “cheaper cuts of meats” like chicken or fish or spends more of their time eating banchan instead. 

Pesci gets yelled at for wanting said cheaper cuts because his stomach can’t always handle heavier meats and wants to eat items oftentimes on the non-AYCE menu. He prefers a-la-carte since he can control how much meat he can get, which is sometimes okay if the team is just wanting a simple meal but kind of annoying when they’re at an AYCE area.  The team likes to use Pesci to get free stuff, so they would come in saying it’s Pesci’s birthday or that Pesci is way younger than he is to get a children’s discount. Pesci, being the good boi he is, tries to correct them, which results in Formaggio or Prosciutto to elbow him to not expose their lies. He likes his meat more well done and is willing to wait for his other members to eat first so that the meat he wants cooks longer, sometimes making him a garbage disposal for meats he can eat. Prosciutto always hounds on him to finish his meats so that nothing is wasted and therefore no extra fees are paid regardless of his stomach. Still, Pesci still enjoys these times since its fun to people watch the chaos that unfolds. 

Melone backs Pesci up regarding the non-AYCE because he sometimes craves those items too and will offer to pay for the non-AYCE items himself so Prosciutto could shut up and let them eat stuff outside of the AYCE menu for once. He can still eat the meats on the grill but he spends much of his time making wraps with the vegetarian banchans and non-AYCE items at the table. He loves banchan like Kongnamul Muchim and Oi Muchim and is always asking the servers to refill on them every second. He’s also an expert in creating wraps. Rice wraps, radish wraps, lettuce wraps- all the wraps that could be made, Melone makes them all and with various combinations. He will make them for himself and his team members if they ask, sometimes teasing them to “open wide” so he can personally feed them. Formaggio still wonders how Melone can fit his wraps, which are often large and very compacted, into his mouth sometimes in one go. But the man manages. Somehow the man manages to eat a log of food and moans in the process. Thank God the restaurant is loud enough so no one would hear that. 

Formaggio loves his meats, but he also loves his sauces and seasonings. He prefers ordering the non-marinated stuff so he can season the meats right on the table and dips his meats in EVERYTHING. He loves the KBBQ places where you can DIY your sauces and would make his own combos of peanut sauces, chili sauces, garlic sauces, all the sauces. Get this man away from corn cheese because he will never leave. Part of why Illuso stays in the mirror world is because Formaggio once spilled fish sauce on him while trying to get back to his seats. When it comes to the non-marinated meats like steak cuts, Formaggio puts on a show. He’ll salt and pepper the meat before using the butter to mix with the free garlic from the sauce bar and melt the complimentary butter so the steak could be based in it later on. When it comes to eating however, he’s more on eating meats than eating banchan, mainly because he’s not a vegetable kind of guy and wants to “get all his protein in”. Formaggio wouldn’t mind sneaking in a bit of Eomuk Bokkeum or Gamja Jorim to cleanse his palate though. 

Ghiaccio is also on team “only meat so I can get my protein in” but he tries to steer away from eating the marinated stuff to really optimize his macros; if anything he prefers Yakiniku more because there’s less marinated meats in that style, but he will never say no to KBBQ nonetheless. He’s also the person trying to get the most bang for his buck but rather than starve he just works himself out even more that day to have more calories to eat or hits the gym right after. An unofficial garbage disposal, he takes up left over meats not only to avoid waste fees but to really get as much protein regardless of taste. He does balance it with an occiasional grilled veggie or vegetable banchan as a means to cleanse his palatte but he’s often trying to fight over getting meat in his mouth first. He’s also down to experiment if there’s an unusual dishes to grill, especially if he’s at a KBBQ place that’s less conventional. Organ meat? Other animals? Meat is meat and Ghiaccio is immediately wanting to try it out. 

Sorbet helps Prosciutto in terms of choosing which meats are best to pick. He knows his meats and knows which one would be worth eating loads on. However, unlike Prosciutto, he likes variety and would convince the former to order other meats besides pork and beef if it’s worth it. It’s also because he feels sorry for Pesci and would have Prosciutto order non-marinated meats and seafood so the guy can eat with the rest of the team. He definitely pregamed before the meal yet somehow he managed to eat way more, saying that he needs to train his stomach to eat lots of food when it comes to these. Sorbet actually prefers marinated meats the most, since he believes its a good indicator of whether the restaurant is good and he’s not too fond of dipping into sauces to flavor the meat. He also likes going to places that have more unusual banchan, either complimentary or at additional costs, like Yangnyeom Gejang.

Gelato is mostly sitting back when it comes to KBBQ but he’s on drink duty! He’s the one ordering soju shots, beers, cocktails, and doing all those twists and rituals needed before opening a soju bottle. He’s also the one setting up and getting the team to play drinking games, hounding everyone to get into the action and laughing at how competitive everyone gets in the end. His goal is to make everyone as drunk as possible so he could get some potential blackmail to use against his members in case someone crosses him but also because his idea of fun involved drunken shenanigans. Usually, he ends up being the drunkest, so La Squadra lives another day not getting blackmail. Of course, he also times it well enough to make sure no one that’s going to drive will be sober enough to drive once the meal is done. The only person he doesn’t have drink is Risotto, mainly because Risotto is always the designated driver and the only driver everyone collectively trust to get home in one piece. 

Risotto is unofficial main garbage disposal alongside Pesci and Ghiaccio. All the cooked meats that are left uneatened, either because the team doesn’t want to eat it anymore or they’re becoming full but they don’t want to charge extra for waste, it goes to Risotto. Given how big he is and how high his metabolism is as well, he doesn’t mind eating the leftovers and finishing the meal if needed. Secretly, this is also because he doesn’t mind eating well-done, slightly overcooked meats, so this is his opportunity to eat such meats without getting ridiculed under the guise that he’s helping out. Given that it is his birthday, everyone tries to order the best meats for him and shelling a few extra bucks for the premium menu options. In reality, he’s fine with the sliced briskets and various Bulgogi. He doesn’t need anything fancy. He’s just glad that he and his boys are having dinner together despite their hectic schedules. 

---

At the end of the meal, everyone is stuffed. Formaggio is crying because his stomach is hurting from overeating. Illuso exaggerates on how he can’t walk and throws himself onto members before getting pushed off by them. Prosciutto says he never wants to do KBBQ again if he keeps feeling awful after every time he eats. Pesci is whimpering because his stomach is also hurting but doesn’t want to appear weak. Everyone collectively say they can no longer eat another bite and walk back to the parking lot in silence for the rest of the way out. When they reach to their cars, Melone speaks up. 

“Anyone want to go get boba?”

“Oh hell yeah!”

“So down.”

“Definitely craving some right now.”

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[9tzuyu]

all i think about now

note: noooo dont relapse ur so sexy aha…

this was purely a self comfort fic, so sorry if its ass.

warnings: self harm, talk of cleaning wounds, not proofread. don’t read if it’ll trigger you, please.

no tags as the subject is a sensitive one!

masterlist + check out my wlw natasha and slow nat playlist?

. . .

the thought wouldn't leave your mind. over and over again it looped like a broken record. you didn't want to act on it, not after having quit for so long.

but it just wouldn’t go away.

you tried to shower, tried to read, tried to write out your feelings, even tried to watch a movie. nothing worked. so eventually you gave up on trying to distract yourself and just followed through with it.

now you were dealing with the aftermath. your arm stung and having to readjust the band aids a few times, the adhesion pulling on your wounds, wasn’t helping.

you just hoped you cut high enough on your arm where natasha wouldn’t be able to notice. you could still wear short sleeves as long as your shoulders didn’t show. easy enough, right? at least that’s what you told yourself.

deciding not to be stupid about your choice of clothing, you chose to sleep in a black t-shirt a few sizes too big. that way the ends of the sleeves would go down to your elbow and any blood that leaked would disappear into the fabric. natasha wouldn’t notice a thing.

later that night natasha’s arms wrapped around your body as she pulled you into her embrace. not once did she think anything was wrong.

why would she? you’d been clean all these years it was almost like you were over it.

the next morning you pushed yourself away from your lover, opting to shower before she woke up. if you were quick with it, natasha wouldn’t be able to join you.

you carried on with your day, doing the absolute best not to wince every time someone patted your arm.

nothing seemed out of the ordinary to natasha. that was until she noticed bloody band aids in the trash can of your shared bathroom.

“did you get hurt?” she questioned you, seemingly out of nowhere.

“no, why?” you furrowed your eyebrows together, feigning confusion.

“i found bloody band aids in our bathroom. care to explain why?” natasha was offering you a doorway into explaining what you’re sure she already knew, but you weren’t so easy to crack.

how could you have been so stupid?

“nope. no idea. c’mon, lets go get dinner with the rest of the team.” you attempted to pull her into the main room, but the redhead didn’t budge. “naaaaat.”

“why were there band aids soaked with blood in our trash can if you’re not injured?”

now you were starting to get frustrated. why wouldn’t she just drop it?

“i don’t know, maybe wanda came in here and used our bathroom. it’s not a big deal, natasha.” you huffed out, annoyance clearly laced within your words.

“can you be honest with me?”

“i am being honest.” you scoffed. she licked her lips, pausing to consider the fact that maybe you were being honest, but she knew better.

“where did you do it?”

“just let it go, natasha.”

“there’s no ‘letting it go’ here. you’ve hurt yourself and i need to know where.” she replied firmly, eyes inspecting your body.

you were wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. your forearms were clear of anything, causing her to wrongly assume you’d cut your legs.

“was it your thighs? or your stomach?”

“neither. they’re both clean, i’ll even change into shorts if you want me to.” you mumbled, raising your shirt to show her your untouched skin.

“so where did you do it?”

you sighed. nothing inside you wanted to show her the damage you’d done the day before.

“i don’t know why you wont believe me.”

“because i know you, and i know when you’re lying to me. so i’m going to ask you again, where did you do it?” her voice was soft. she didn’t bother hiding the desperation behind her words.

you didn’t bother speaking, simply lifting your sleeves to uncover the top of your biceps.

“they’re not too bad. not as bad as i was wanting them to be. and they probably won’t scar as much as my other ones.”

natasha frowned at the sight of your half closed-half open wounds. they weren’t cleaned up at all, she could tell by the dry blood that stuck to your skin.

she didn’t say anything either, only moving away so she could get a damp rag to clean the surface.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered. “i should’ve come to you. i don’t even know why i did this. it just sort of happened. and i just feel so pathetic because it’s the first time in years and now all my work is for nothing…”

“that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. it’s not for nothing. so you had a slip up, maybe you’ll have another one or few more, but every day is still progress. each day you’re alive is worth more than any set back you run into. i promise you this.” she finished, wiping off any remnants of blood left on your arm.

“i’m going to rub some antiseptic on these and put some new bandages on, okay?” you nodded, feeling more at ease with the situation.

“i’m sorry, natasha.”

“no apologies, darling. next time try and come to me before acting on any urges like these. we don’t have to talk about it, but i’d rather be sure you’re safe than a danger to yourself.”

“i’ll try.”

natasha gave you a smile, “let’s watch something, yeah? take our mind off of everything for now.”

you spent the rest of the night under natasha’s eye, but it didn’t bother you too much. as long as you weren’t alone you’d be alright.

[xutokawa]

s/o finding scratch marks on their back

pairings: atsumu x reader, oikawa x reader

genre(s): angst, fluff in beginning, cheating s/o

warnings: langauge, cheating, allusions to smut, mentions of alcohol

wc: 1.6k

» masterlist

a/n: i feel like writing some angst and nothing says angst like an s/o finding out their partner is cheating :’) send requests for other haikyuu characters if you want some more! i already have a couple drafted up hehe

osamu and iwazumi ver.

kuroo and sakusa ver.

suna and bokuto ver.

akaashi and hinata ver.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Atsumu

Curling yourself into a ball, you tightly clenched at the blanket, trying to imagine Atsumu’s warmth surrounding you. You dearly missed your husband, touch-starved from not seeing him for two days. A smile spread across your face knowing that he would be in your arms again in a couple hours.

You knew dating a pro-volleyball player would mean nights alone in your shared apartment. It was hard at first, but you slowly got used to it, knowing he would walk through the front door and come back home to you.

Later that day, you were quietly humming to yourself while cooking dinner for Atsumu and yourself when you heard the doorknob jiggling followed by the sound of keys. Excitement and anticipation coursed through your body as you quickly went to greet your husband at the door. As soon as the door opened to reveal the blond setter, you rushed into his arms.

“Y/n,” Atsumu breathed into your hair, holding you tight, “I missed you so much.”

Snuggling into his chest, you replied, “I missed you too.”

Pulling away, you looked up at him, “Dinner’s almost ready. Go wash up first.” 

Atsumu placed a quick kiss on your forehead, muttering a quick I love you before picking up his bags and heading towards your bedroom.

Hearing the shower turn on, you returned to cooking. Hands dry from washing the dishes, you decided to go grab some lotion, heading into the bathroom. You stopped dead in your tracks, however, when you glanced at Atsumu. 

Back turned towards you, the setter was unaware of your presence in the bathroom. Red, angry marks lined his broad shoulders as hickeys were dotted across his neck. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until your vision started blurring. Quickly slipping out of the bathroom, you went into your shared bedroom, packing a small bag with your belongings. Silent sobs racked your body as you imagined Atsumu’s breath on another’s neck, whispering sweet nothings into their ears as he gave himself away to them. 

You couldn’t believe it. Your husband, your Atsumu. More than anything, you wanted to know why? What did you not give? Was your marriage worth nothing to him? Texting your best friend, you told them you’d be staying at their house for the night, not offering further explanation. 

Did he mean it when he proclaimed his love earlier? You couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’s done this. How many times has he betrayed your trust, indulged in another person as you patiently waited for his return. Scoffing in anger, you hastily pulled your ring off your left hand, placing it on his bedside table along with a note. Anger surged through your body as you stared at the diamond gleaming at you, memories of the day Atsumu got down on one knee as he asked to spend the rest of his life with you flooding back. That day, you left, never turning back, putting the past five years with Atsumu behind you.

The apartment was noticeably colder when Atsumu finally stepped out of the shower. Quickly changing, he walked out to the kitchen, craving your embrace. He couldn’t wait to sit down and just talk, maybe cuddle and watch a movie until the both of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. The setter missed you dearly during his time away, and he wanted to make up for lost time. However, you were nowhere to be found. He searched through the entire apartment only to be met with silence. 

Maybe she went out to buy something, Atsumu thought to himself. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when he noticed a note on his nightstand. 

‘I’ll be gone for a couple of days. I’ll eventually come back for the rest of my stuff, but I just can’t bear to see you right now. I hope it was worth it. Glad to know our marriage was worth dog shit to you. Don’t come looking for me, the last thing I want to see is you right now.’

The note in the setter’s hands began to shake as he glanced at your wedding ring on the table. He thought he heard the door open in the shower earlier, but didn’t think much of it. It was only when his shampoo ran down his back that he realized he had marks on his back. Atsumu knew he messed up as soon as the deed was over. Your comforting smile continuously flashed through his mind as he pulled his shirt back over his head. He felt sick to his stomach opening his phone to find a text from you telling him to take care of himself when another person’s scent lingered on him. 

He couldn’t lose you. He needed to find you, tell you it was all a drunken mistake. It was the alcohol, not him. The thought of you despising him made the setter choke out a sob, rushing out the door in hopes to catch up to you. It didn’t mean anything to him. It was getting too lonely without you, and he indulged in alcohol in hopes to fill the void. His eyes searched frantically, legs and lungs burning from running down countless flights of steps, hoping to catch a glance of you and bring you back him.

But it was too late. It was over. Atsumu already ruined everything.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Oikawa

Frustration boiled through Oikawa as he rubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t mean to lash out at you, after all, you were just being a caring partner. Concerns for the setter’s health turned into a full-blown argument resulting with you in tears and Oikawa at a local bar, drowning his misery in liquor. His state of mind grew foggier with each shot he downed. So when the scent of perfume engulfed his senses as seductive whispers filled his ears, he gave in.

You were waken up by the sound of a clatter coming from the kitchen followed by a loud ‘fuck!’ 

Groggily, you glanced at the alarm clock on your nightstand.

12:47am

Heading towards the source of noise, you found your boyfriend curled in a ball on the ground. The stench of alcohol overwhelmed your nostrils as you attempted to get your boyfriend to stand. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the ‘I’m so sorry, y/n’s and the ‘Please forgive me’s coming out of your boyfriend’s mouth, assuming he was referring to your earlier argument. Sighing, you laid him down on your mattress, walking towards his closet to grab his pajamas. With great struggle, you successfully peeled the shirt from Oikawa’s back before he flopped back down on the mattress. Preparing to shove his night shirt over his head, your movements froze as you took in the claw marks running down his back. Blood running cold, you glanced at the setter’s face, seemingly peaceful as he slept. 

Anger coursed through your veins at the thought of him running into another person’s arms when your relationship got a little tough.

Pathetic.

You scoffed as you threw his shirt on the ground. Blinded by rage, your mind didn’t register your hand coming in contact with his cheek.

A loud smack sounded through the empty night as Oikawa’s eyes shot open.

“You piece of shit,” you venomously spit out.

Confusion visible clouded Oikawa’s eyes as he began adjusting to his surroundings, obviously sobering up.

“Y-y/n, what was that for?” Oikawa began sitting up, eyebrows furrowed together.

“So what, we have one argument and you decide to go fuck some random person?” You raised your voice at the man sitting in front of you.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t-”

“Cut the crap, Oikawa,” ignoring the pain flashing through Oikawa’s eyes at the use of his last name, “The hickey on your neck and scratch marks are more than enough proof that you cheated on me.” 

Panic flashed in Oikawa’s eyes as he realized what was happening, the gravity of the situation registering in his mind. He cheated on you.

“I-” Oikawa stuttered, words getting stuck in his throat at the thought of losing you. He couldn’t even make excuses, knowing he had been caught red-handed in his infidelity. 

“I’m staying in a hotel for the rest of the night. I’m coming back tomorrow afternoon, and your shit better be out of here by then,” your eyes hardened as you turned around, beginning to pack a small bag with essential belongings. Panic rose in Oikawa as he scrambled to stop you.

“Wait, y/n, let’s talk this out,” Oikawa pleaded, tears welling in his eyes, “We can fix this, right? You can’t leave me, I love you!”

The setter’s heart shattered as you flinched away from his touch, as if it physically hurt you to be near him.

“If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t have cheated on me,” you managed to choke out, zipping up your bag. 

“I do love you, y/n! Please, believe me,” Oikawa desperately pleaded, sobs racking his body, “I didn’t mean to! It didn’t mean anything, y/n, I can fix this, I promise!”

“You seem to have a habit of breaking your promises, Oikawa,” your voice audibly weaker. You needed to get away from him, away from the source of your heartbreak. 

“Y/n, wait! Please-” Oikawa’s voice was cut off by the slam of the front door. 

It wasn’t until 47 missed calls, 118 messages, and 32 voicemails later, that Oikawa realized you were never coming back to him. You had walked out of his life forever, and it was all his fault.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

comment or send me a message to be added to my general taglist!

[seiyasabi]

A Shifter’s Dream

(This is a Yandere Bunny-Shifter N’Doul x Female Reader story :P Plz proceed w caution 

TW: !Noncon!, breeding kink!, hella cum!, he holds you down onto the mattress!, kinda sus bc u just turned 18, he deadass bites you, !pees on u in rabbit form, mounting!, mentions of euthanization of animals at the beginning!, etc..)

“-Mama, Mama!” Your voice echoes throughout the kitchen, as you hurry inside, hands clutching something protectively. Your mother turns, startled by your sudden appearance and anxious sounding voice. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Did those neighbourhood boys bully you again?” Ever the mother hen, she frets over you, grabbing you gently by the shoulders and taking a good look at you. 

Shaking your head, you lift your hands, showing the older woman a taupe coloured rabbit, “Look! Mrs. Ruitz next door is selling bunnies! She says this one is blind, so she hasn’t sold it, so she said she’d give him to me if you say yes! Please, please, please say yes! She said she’d put him down if he wasn’t sold,” Tears bead your eyes as you practically beg your mother, who doesn’t seem to have the heart to tell you ‘no’ at that moment. 

She sighs, weighing her options. You’re already ten, so you should be able to take care of him with minimal effort on her part… 

“I suppose that’s alright. You just have to promise me that you’ll take care of him!” You instantly perk up, a bright smile on your face. 

“I promise! I promise!” You hold the bun closer to your chest, practically rocking it in the process, “Thank you, Mama!” 

The older woman smiles once more, patting you goodnaturedly on the back, “Good. Now, let’s go talk to Mrs. Ruitz- we have no idea how to take care of it.” 

Walking across the street, your mother and your neighbour talk about your bunny’s proper care. It turns out, your bun is a male, who is previously named N’Doul. Not wanting to confuse the bunny, you decided to keep his unusual name, chattering away happily to him as you sat in the grass, barely listening to his care requirements. 

The bun listens intently to what you’re saying, relishing your gentle hold around him. 

He must be lucky, he thinks, to have found someone as lovely as you for a mate. 

-

Eight years later, and you and your bun are still going strong. You’d recently moved into your own apartment, trying out adult life as you start college. 

Today is your birthday, officially making you an adult. 

The day was filled with festivities: your mom made you your favourite breakfast in bed (scaring you half to death- apparently she has a copy of your apartment key), your friends took you out shopping, and your mom took you to a birthday dinner. All in all, it was a great day! 

But, a certain bun was seemingly more excited than you were for your birthday, because he seemingly peed himself in excitement the moment you picked him up. Lightly scolding him, you set him down on his rabbit bed that you made him, “‘Doul, what the heck man!” You laugh a little, remembering back to when he was but a teeny kit, “You’re not a baby anymore, bubs, you can’t just pee on me!” The bun is surprisingly smart, allowing you to let him mosy around your house (now your own apartment that you saved up for for years). After he figures out the layout, he’s able to figure out where his pee pad is, along with his grass bed, actual bed, and food/drink area. He is also able to hear where you are, allowing him to cutely hop after you if you’re not already carrying him. 

Going to the bathroom to wash your hands, you hear his barely audible pawsteps behind you, “It’s okay, ‘Doul, I’m just gonna clean myself off, okay?” Flipping on your faucet, you get your hands nice and wet, before you pump some soap onto your hands, and start scrubbing, “Maybe I should shower now, since I’m already here…” You trail off when you feel you bun settle himself on your foot. 

Glancing down, you catch him just in time, as he starts to hump you. Gasping in surprise, you try to gently shake him off, but that seemingly just gets himself off faster, as you feel a foreign wetness against your skin, “What the fuck? Are you serious, N’Doul?!” Annoyed with the way he’s suddenly acting, once you finish washing your hands, you reach down, and scoop the bun up, “That’s not cool, bro. Because of that, you can wait in my room while I shower.” 

Plopping him in his bunny bed, you turn on your heel, and hurry back into the bathroom, closing the door before he can follow you inside. 

-

Stepping out of your shower, you wrap yourself securely with your plush towel. Not bothering to wipe off the steam from your mirror, you bust out of the bathroom, only to be greeted with your now empty room. The door leading to the hallway is wide open, and your bunny is nowhere to be seen. Completely stupefied, you have no idea how to respond. Did the bun hop up high enough to hit the handle? That should be impossible! A Holland Lop is big, but not that big! 

“N’Doul? Bun? Where on Earth did you go?” Deeming your bunny’s safety higher than you changing into clothing, you quickly move out of your room clad in only your towel. 

You go room by room, searching frantically for your beloved pet. He has to be here somewhere! 

So, when you finally make it to your living room/kitchen, you let out a yell of fear. There, on your couch, is a naked, bunny eared, buff man who’s humping into your previously used panties, “Who the hell are you! Get the fuck out of my house!” Reaching for the baseball bat in the hallway, you hold it up with one hand threateningly, the other currently holding your towel. 

A deep, rumbling laugh is heard from the mysterious man, who then tosses aside your soiled panties, “Don't be like that, Love. Your N’Doul only getting myself ready for you.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about? And what did you do with my bunny?” He chuckles, relishing your cute reaction. 

“I’m your bunny, (Your Name). I’m N’Doul.”

“The hell you are! Get out, before I bash your skull in!” He stands to his feet, completely towering over you. Gulping in fear, you move backwards, but then you notice his eyes. They’re the same milky white your bun has, “I-I’m warning you! Stay away from me, you creep!” 

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, showing how large his hands are compared to yours, “I’m not going to hurt you- I wouldn’t be a good mate if I did.” 

Without thinking, you chuck your baseball bat at his bunny-eared head, before turning and running to your room. You hear the metal bat make contact, along with a yelp of pain. Locking your door behind you, you search your room for your car keys. Not long after you dump out your purse in pursuit of your keys, you hear loud footsteps thumping towards you. 

A loud bang echoes throughout the room, as the man’s hit practically shakes the foundation of the wall, “Open the door, (Your Name)! Open it right now!” He sounds angry, and when you don’t respond fast enough, he starts trying to break down the door, his muscled body practically bending the thin wood with each body slam. 

Screaming in fear, you start to cry. Thick tears drip down your face, as you plead with him to stop, “I-I don’t want to! Get out of my house!” 

With one last mighty slam, the humanized N’Doul breaks into your bedroom. His nose is bleeding from the bat hitting him in the face, but other than that, he’s completely unscathed. Hearing you cry, he immediately goes to shush you, “Don’t cry, Love. Now that you’re considered an adult in your species, we can finally begin our life together.”

To his chagrin, you continue to sob, completely scared out of your mind, “No! Get out! Stop pretending to be my bunny, it’s weird!” He approaches you slowly, his much bigger form slightly bumping into a few pieces of furniture. This gives you enough time to make a break for it. 

You try to round his form, almost making it to what’s left of your bedroom door, only to be stopped by a meaty arm practically slamming you onto your bed. Trying to get up, you quickly realise that escape is impossible, as his muscular legs practically trap you against your mattress. He uses his weight to hold you down, as he bites into your neck, trying to make you submit. 

“Shh, stop resisting me, my Love. I promise that I’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives,” He continues to bite at you, as your screams are muffled into your sheets. 

His large hands rip your towel off of you, exposing your slightly wet body to his prying fingers. The rough pads of his fingers rub at your erect nipples and unprepared slit, trying to get you as wet as possible. 

“You’ll be a wonderful mother, I can tell you were made for this,” His cock head bumps against your tight entrance, forcing itself in as you scream. 

He starts a breakneck pace almost immediately, relishing how your walls massage him so sinfully- as if you were made for only him, his inexperienced fingers rub at your clit harshly, trying to make this as pleasurable for you as possible, 

Whilst this was happening, a bolt of pure pleasure shot up your spine, as he hit a certain gummy patch in your pussy, causing you to gush uncontrollably. Loud keens escape your gaping mouth, as his harsh ministrations are enough to almost make you cum immediately. 

“Fuck, your body accepts me so perfectly, Love. It’s like it knows I’m going to pump you full of kits,” He lightly slaps at your clit, causing you to seize up in orgasm, quickly throwing him over the edge as well. Hot, virile cum overflows your womb, his swimmers quickly inseminating you. But it’s not enough. N’Doul, moments after orgasm, bucks into you even harsher than before, wanting to push as much of his cum as possible inside of you, “My perfect mate, I love you so much! I knew you were the one for me from the first time I met you! Only the love of my life would accept me even with my blindness!” 

Still sensitive from before, the both of you hustle over the edge in mere moments, your release squirting all over the both of you. 

“We’re not stopping until I know that you're pregnant, my love. Our wonderful kits are such a good birthday present, no?”

[d0llpie]

Heyy, this idea just pop up in my mind out of nowhere 😂. So here's the thing:

Some hcs with bokuto, kuroo, akaashi and daichi about their chubby s/o forgot to bring towel to the bathroom before she goes take a bath 😂 she was like " why would i forgot the damn thing?". So she had to run naked to the wardrobe, but that doesn't go unnoticed by her boyfriend. Slightly nsfw 👀 or not. Whatever you want about the concept, but i will be glad if you do write this idea of mine 😂

P/s: i love your works 😆

Forgetting your towel

kuroo x reader, bokuto x reader, daichi x reader, akaashi x reader

warnings: nsfw, nothing really explicit, cursing

a/n: hiii, thank you so much! <3, this idea was really cute thank you for the request

wc: 1.8k

Akaashi

- Akaashi had a lot of work to do for his boss so you knew he wouldn’t be able to spend a lot of time with you today

- You took this as an opportunity to do a self-care day since you’d also been pretty stressed lately

- You started by making yourself a nice breakfast while watching a couple episodes of a show you liked while you ran a bath

- You cleaned up quickly and put on a face mask as you got in the bath, you felt like you were forgetting something so you lit some candles and played some music

- You texted Akaashi asking if the music was too loud but got no reply so you decided it was fine and relaxed into the bath

- You were humming along softly to the music, it was getting pretty hot so you decided you’d get out in a minute. You looked over to the towel rack to see it empty

- You texted Akaashi again to bring you a towel but again got no response, you huffed stepping out of the bath, taking off your face mask before cracking open the door

- The wardrobe with the towels was only a few metres away past Akaashi’s office and you figured you could quickly run there and grab a towel

- Akaashi had finished editing a chapter and decided he probably should take a break now, he checked his phone to see a message from you and smiled, he got up to go get you a towel

- You reached the wardrobe and took out a towel, closing the door to see Akaashi standing there, now blushing as he looked down at you

- “Oh you got my message..” “Yeah..” you went to wrap the towel around you but Akaashi grabbed it from your hands “I’m taking a break...” he grabbed your hips, kneading the flesh softly, pulling you into him

- “Kaashi, i’m still wet” you complained but he only laughed at that, “I hope you are” he chuckled again, squeezing your waist before attaching his lips to yours, smiling against you

- “Is there still water in the bath?” you nodded before kissing him again, he stumbled with you towards the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head while trying to keep his lips attached to yours as much as possible

- “Kaashi you’re going to fall slow down” you giggled as he struggled to take his pants off, stepping into the bath and holding your hand as you stepped in.

- He sat you in his lap as the water engulfed you both. He attached his lips to your neck while running his hands over your thighs. “I’m glad you sent me that text darling” you both giggled before smiling back into another deep kiss.

Kuroo

- Kuroo texted you telling you he’d be home a little later but he wanted to take you on a stargazing date since he hadn’t taken you out in a while

- You were excited and hopped into the bath to relax and get ready before kuroo got home

- Kuroo was at work, trying to finish his work as quickly as possible to get home to you on time, he missed you and wanted to do something nice for the both of you

- He finished quickly and smiled before heading home, sending you a quick message

- Your message chimes in your bedroom while you were still in the bathroom.

- You realised you forgot a towel so you got out of the bath to go and get one, not caring since you were home alone.

- Kuroo was walking towards your shared bedroom when you strolled out of the bathroom, completely naked and not noticing his presence

- He watched as you took a towel out of the wardrobe before turning to face him and screaming out of shock, dropping your towel in the process

- “Tetsu what the hell?” you scrambled to get your towel as he walked over to you in long strides, laughing at your flustered reaction

- “If this is what i get for coming home early i’m gonna be more motivated to do my work” he laughed again as you wrapped the towel around your body hastily

- “Hi baby” he tilted your chin up to kiss you sweetly, pulling you into him by the small of your back, moving his other hand down further

- “hii” you smiled as he picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he smiled back at you

- “I was excited for our date tonight, i’ve missed you, now i’m realising how much more i miss you” he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as he rubbed one of his hands over your back

- “I think you should just wear this honestly you look so hot right now” he squeezed the underside of your thigh, still holding you up

- You laughed before pecking his lips “let me get ready baby” he reluctantly put you down, smacking your ass as you walked back into the bathroom, smirking at your glare

- “Tetsu what should i wear?” you walked back into the bedroom to find Kuroo lying on the bed scrolling on his phone. “Wear the towel baby i told you” you rolled your eyes before slipping on a dress

- “Okay i was wrong you look even better in that” you laughed at him, doing a spin as he grabbed your hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed, resting his face on your stomach, massaging your ass with his hands

- “C’mon mister get ready” “you should take a bath and forget your towel every time i’m at work” you slapped his shoulder gently “i’ll get ready if you promise too” you rolled your eyes pushing yourself away from him “fine.”

Bokuto

- Bokuto had come home from training only to find the house seemingly empty

- “y/n?” he wandered further into the house, seeing the light on in the bathroom before knocking softly “y/n, i’m home baby”

- “Hi bo!” you called out from the bath after hearing his knocks, “i just got in dont worry i won’t be too long though” you started playing some music “okay, i’m gonna start dinner” you hummed in acknowledgement, relaxing into the water

- Bokuto was busy making dinner when you realised you had forgotten a towel, “Bo can you grab me a towel?” you called out

- Over the sound of your music and the stove cooking dinner, Bokuto couldn’t hear you asking him for a towel

- You grumbled, stepping out of the water and exiting the bathroom. You walked through the hallway down to the cupboard to grab a towel

- Bokuto heard the bathroom door and came into the hallway ready to take a shower himself, he turned to see you, fully naked staring at him

- “Baby if you were in the mood we could’ve just had a bath together!” despite how confident he sounded, his face was bright red and his eyes were shamelessly taking in your figure

- “Sorry kou, i just forgot a towel is all” you pulled a towel from the wardrobe and wrapped it around yourself as Bo pouted

- “Oh okay..” he still stood in the hallway just staring at you without making any effort to move out of your way

- “Come here bo” you rolled your eyes and smiled at him, opening your arms as he ran up to you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you into a hug

- He spun you around in his arms, pressing kisses all over your face “let’s have dinner later baby” he started carrying you to the bedroom before you stopped him

- “Bo you need to shower too!” he frowned before heading to the bathroom, still carrying you in his arms

- “Just wait here okay, you don’t need to wear the towel you know” you laughed at him as he got in the shower “I’m not just going to stand here naked, i need to dry off” you went to exit the bathroom

- “where are you going ?” “i’m going to get you a towel Bo” he opened the shower door, grabbing your wrist to stop you from leaving “No i can just use yours” you rolled your eyes again

- “oh my god Bo just move over” you dropped the towel and stepped into the shower with him, letting the warm water run over you.

- “Hi~” he smiled down at you, pulling your body against his as he sighed out happily “hi bo” you giggled into his chest

Daichi

- You and Daichi had been dating a while yet, he had a spare key to your apartment and frequently came over to have dinner or just spend time with you.

- He rarely ever came over unannounced but he had had a long day at work and wanted to cuddle up with you for the night.

- He was desperate to see you so he came over as soon as his shift ended, forgetting to send you a text prior

- You were getting out of the bath, knowing you forgot a towel to go and get one. You slipped out into the hallway almost falling back in surprise when you were met with your boyfriend standing there with his mouth open and eyes down

- You quickly covered your body as best you could before shrieking “jesus dai- you scared the shit out of me.” he chuckled before prying your arms away from you

- “Do you walk around naked a lot? i’m not complaining it’s just- i dont know i could get used to this” you giggled at that as he placed his hands just above your hips, massaging the flesh gently

- “Sorry to disappoint but i just forgot a towel.” you leant up to kiss him softly “How come you’re here, not that i’m complaining”, he continued massaging your torso, grabbing whenever he could to calm himself down

- “Tough day at work, i’m already feeling better tho, thank you love” he sighed out in exhaustion, pulling you against him and cupping your head

- “No need to thank me, c’mon i’ll quickly get dressed and we can cuddle and watch a movie okay?” you smoothed your hands over his shoulder, trying to ease him into un-tensing them.

- “thank you love” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, squeezing you tightly for a second before releasing you to get changed.

- You changed and went to your bed, climbing under the covers with your back to Daichi as he placed your laptop in front of you both

- He draped his arm over your waist, resting his hand against your stomach, smiling against the back of your head, drifting off to sleep with you in his arms as you watched the movie

[contemplativepancakes]

Geralt is possibly the least interesting vampire in the world. Jaskier is strangely okay with that. 4k, G. read on AO3 here!

for @theamazingbard (:

Geralt holds up two ties in front of the mirror, comparing the fabrics against his suit. By now, he’s used to the headless suit that reflects back at him in the mirror. Geralt’s never been one to overly question things, so he couldn’t tell you why vampires don’t show up in mirrors, but really, that’s fine. A relief, even.

He’s not sure he wants to know what he looks like. He knew once, before he was turned. He wasn’t exactly a looker then, and he highly doubts he is now.

Geralt chooses the black tie with the tiny dots instead of the black tie with the stripes, and clips it on to his suit. What? He can’t be expected to tie a tie every single day. He smooths it down over his chest. Satisfied, he sits down on the bed to tie his dress shoes. Reliable double knots.

He walks down the hall to crouch in front of the refrigerator, pulling out one of the bags of blood he keeps there. He pauses to look at the label. It’s his favorite, AB. He tucks it into his lunchbox, then pauses to rip one open and dump it into his travel mug. He pours some protein powder in it to make the blood coagulate. He can definitely see the appeal of this boba tea the humans have been drinking recently.

As he heads out the door, he darkens a little as he looks at his neighbors’ decorations. He hates Halloween. A time for people to get everything wrong about monsters. They live with them, the least they could do is be a little considerate and do their research.

No, they can’t repel Geralt with garlic. He scowls at the thought.

Geralt’s distracted from his thoughts as a young man runs by him out of seemingly nowhere and falls on the sidewalk just in front of him, his knee splitting open.

Geralt rubs a hand on his neck as the man looks up at him beseechingly.

“Uh. Do you need any help?”

“My, you’re ever so kind,” the man says, extending a hand that Geralt uses to pull him to his feet.

“Probably want to get that cleaned off,” Geralt says. “Make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Oh, dear! You’re right. Would it be possible for me to use your sink?” he asks, batting his eyelashes.

Geralt squints. “I...guess?”

“Oh, thank you!”

Geralt unlocks his door and leads the man into his bathroom, graciously pretending not to notice the man looking around the apartment in wide eyed fascination. He must not know that Geralt is a vampire, then, or he wouldn’t be so quick to ask Geralt for help. People around here avoid Geralt for the most part.

“I’m Jaskier,” the man says, as he bends his leg so his knee is right under the faucet. Geralt politely looks away when he notices how the motion makes the material of his pants stretch right across the seat of his ass.

“Geralt,” he replies, watching Jaskier closely for a reaction.

There’s none, so Geralt kneels down and looks under the sink for his hydrogen peroxide. When he finds it, he hands it to Jaskier wordlessly.

Jaskier flashes him a winning smile. “I guess it was my lucky day to run into you, hmm?”

Geralt doesn’t think anyone has ever said that about him before. “Anyone would do what they could to help you avoid infection,” he says dutifully.

Jaskier deflates a bit. “Well, there must be some way I can repay you. How about coffee?”

“Oh. I don’t really...drink coffee.” Geralt waits for Jaskier to get it. It’s not like monsters like him are uncommon, per se.

“How about dinner, then? A steakhouse.”

“Sure,” Geralt says, surprising himself. He blinks. His brothers are always telling him he needs to make more friends. And a steak does sound particularly good. He rarely lets himself indulge in things like that.

Jaskier brightens. “Hey, would you mind putting a band aid on this for me? I can never get it to stay.”

“I’m not sure that applying band aids is exactly rocket science,” Geralt says, but he does it anyway, his nose twitching at the scent of the fresh blood.

Geralt is centuries old, though, so it’s not like a little blood is the end of the world. Maybe when he was a fledgling, but those days are long past him.

He gives Jaskier’s knee a tiny pat. “Looks like those pants are done in for,” he says inanely.

Jaskier shrugs. “A worthy sacrifice.”

Geralt doesn’t respond to that, and Jaskier lets the silence linger. Geralt clears his throat. “I’m going to be late for work.”

Before he leaves, Jaskier insists Geralt give him his number so that he can arrange their dinner. “I’m very much looking forward to it,” Jaskier says with a grin.

Geralt gives him a hesitant smile, looking at the clock. He really does need to get a move on.

Jaskier seems to get the hint and lets Geralt usher him out the door.

In the end, Geralt’s not late, but he is grumpy that he only arrived five minutes early instead of his customary fifteen. It throws his entire day off, and the numbers seem to swim before him on his computer screen like never before.

Geralt scowls. He should have picked the tie with the stripes.

-

Jaskier contains his pout as he walks along the sidewalk, away from Geralt’s house. He practically offered himself up on a platter to be ravished, and Geralt was completely unaffected. There was blood right in front of his nose!

Jaskier doubts his information for a second, but Priscilla was the one who told him in hushed whispers that the word was that Geralt was a vampire. If Valdo had been the one to tell him, then he would have had a few more qualms, but Priscilla wouldn’t lie to him like that.

She knows how the idea of being partners with a monster makes him feel hot under the collar.

Jaskier resolves to be better. If a cut knee wasn’t enough, he’ll just have to step up his game for this dinner. And surely, if Geralt didn’t want to be seduced, he would have sent Jaskier on his merry way after bandaging his knee instead of bandaging it for him, for gods’ sake.

Maybe Geralt wants to be the one being chased after for once. Well, Jaskier is happy to oblige.

-

When Geralt gets home from work, there’s a text waiting for him. How about Friday night for our little get together?

It’s not like Geralt ever has any plans that might get in the way besides his weekly meeting, so it’s not like he has to check his calendar before he replies. Sure.

Great! I’ll pick you up at 8! :D

Geralt frowns. This doesn’t seem right. He hasn’t made a new friend in possibly fifty years, and now one literally falls into his path?

He hums to himself as he does his nightly routine, pushing on the gum above each fang to make it pop out so he can properly brush it. Cleanliness is next to godliness, and all that. Actual dentists that weren’t just going to try to pull out his teeth have only been around for less than the majority of his life, so it’s habit to take good care of them.

Geralt strips off his clothes until he’s left in just his t-shirt and boxers and climbs into bed. No, he doesn’t have a coffin or hang upside down like some sort of bat. Geralt’s not sure where all that nonsense got its roots in the first place.

There’s so many things that humans seem to have no qualms believing about monsters, though, and Geralt frowns as he punches his pillow into a better shape. He’s almost 250. His lumbar health is no joke.

-

His anxiety bleeds into his work, making Excel blink more error messages back at him than he’s ever seen before. Geralt’s boss pulls him aside to ask if he’s okay. Geralt sulks.

He is the consummate professional, and he’s not going to let this dinner get the better of him. Geralt contends anyone would be nervous if they hadn’t made a new friend in decades, too.

Now, he stands in front of his closet. He’s certainly not going to wear a suit, but he rarely wears anything else. It’s not like he goes much of any place besides work and his weekly meetings. Geralt sighs as he pulls a pair of jeans out of his wardrobe.

They’re a lot tighter than he remembers, but this is all he has, so it’ll have to do. He finds a long sleeved shirt that is luckily on the baggier side. He hopes that will make up for his too-close fitting jeans.

Geralt brushes his hair, but he can’t see it in the mirror, so there’s no point in doing anything else with it. He’s more likely to make himself look ridiculous than presentable with whatever he might attempt.

Geralt plants himself on the couch, reaching for his book to read until the clock rolls around to the time Jaskier promised to pick him up. His fingers play with the corners of the pages, bending them in a way that he’s sure would make a librarian displeased.

Geralt huffs when he realizes he’s not going to get any reading done and sets the book down on his side table. He takes a deep breath through his nose. He is ancient; he shouldn’t be getting social anxiety right now.

His phone pings with a text. Outside!

Geralt looks out the window, and indeed, there’s a car there. It’s a lime green slug bug, with rust eating its way up from the undercarriage. Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose. That looks like Jaskier’s car, all right.

-

Jaskier tries not to drool as Geralt walks down his steps. He’s wearing pants that are skin tight, which should frankly be illegal, and his shirt hangs off of him so that it shows his collar bones. Jaskier thought that vampires should be the ones who wanted to bite, but he would really love to get his mouth on one of those.

Geralt gets into the passenger seat with a half smile playing around his lips. “Like my ride?” Jaskier asks.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Jaskier claps his hand to his heart in mock offense. “I’m wounded.”

Geralt hums, shifting in his seat as he fastens his seatbelt. Jaskier drums his fingers on the steering wheel, flexing his right arm to draw attention to the bandage he has there. He went and donated blood this afternoon, and if Geralt doesn’t get his hint this time, he is going to pound his head against the nearest wall.

-

Geralt shifts his head to look out the window as Jaskier keeps his arms on shameless display. He knows times have changed, but it’s also always a little dizzying to see so much of everyone’s skin on display all the time, their pulse thrumming invitingly underneath it.

Geralt shakes his head to clear it of its reverie as Jaskier pulls his car into drive. It gives a concerning lurch. Before Geralt can open his mouth to comment, Jaskier is holding up a hand. “I can assure you, we are perfectly safe.”

“Hmm.”

“Hey!” Jaskier protests. “It is. I take care of it.”

“All I said was hmm,” Geralt says with a tiny grin. “That’s why it has so much rust, right?”

Jaskier sighs. “I was going to get around to repaint it, and then I just...other things came up.”

Geralt makes a face at him, laughing at Jaskier’s increased defenses. Some of his anxiety fades away as he realizes this isn’t so bad, after all. Maybe Jaskier needs a new friend just as badly as him.

When they arrive at the restaurant, Jaskier pulls Geralt’s chair out for him. Geralt gives him a polite nod. He can’t say he has a firm grasp on all the recent customs. Lambert’s always telling him he’s stuck in the past.

Geralt crosses his fingers and rests his chin on his hands as he watches Jaskier eat his salad, taking endearingly large bites. Jaskier hasn’t even mentioned anything about vampires yet. Geralt is starting to feel a tiny bit guilty. Would he still want to spend all this time with him if he knew Geralt wasn’t human?

As he’s thinking that, Jaskier takes a big gulp of his water and starts to sputter. Geralt’s across the table in an instant, his hand around Jaskier’s bicep and another hand on his back. “Are you okay?” Geralt murmurs, tense and ready to help if the need arises.

Jaskier coughs and waves him off. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”

Geralt relaxes a bit, but as his hand lingers on Jaskier’s arm, he can’t help but feel how warm it is, such a contrast to his own constantly cool skin. When Jaskier turns his face to look up at him, Geralt quickly drops his arm and beats a hasty retreat back to his seat.

He could swear Jaskier looks disappointed. He must be delusional.

When the main course comes, Geralt cuts neatly into his pink steak, mouth watering as the juices come leaking out of it. He sucks the tip of his finger into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut at the salty taste of it.

He makes himself cut the steak into tiny pieces. He’ll have to tell Jaskier he’s a vampire eventually; he might as well make sure he doesn’t think he’s a barbaric onel. Geralt tries his best to keep his eyes on Jaskier’s face instead of his arms. He can’t help but notice that he has some very nice veins. They’re a striking blue, and a perfect compliment to his eyes.

Geralt bites his lip, flinching when one of his fangs pops out on its own, pressing into his lip.

“One of my uncles is a werewolf,” Jaskier says, apropos of nothing, looking at Geralt meaningfully.

A trickle of sweat runs down Geralt’s back. Does Jaskier think he’s a werewolf? Werewolves are generally regarded better than vampires; at least they’re only monsters one night a month.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, not hearing the rest of Jaskier’s sentence.

Jaskier laughs at his own joke, and Geralt blinks rapidly until he can focus again on what Jaskier’s saying.

When the waiter comes with the check, Jaskier insists on paying for it. Is this what friendship has evolved to since Geralt last had one? He doesn’t know enough about it to argue with Jaskier, so he lets him do what he wants.

-

Outside of Geralt’s house, Jaskier puts a hand on the console between them, making eye contact with Geralt before dropping his gaze down to his lips. Geralt gives him a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling. His white hair looks ethereal in the moonlight, and Jaskier is only a little infatuated.

Geralt’s exterior is stony, but he also had no problems giving Jaskier all sorts of secret smiles throughout the night. Jaskier’s not sure he’s met a better listener than Geralt, and he tends to drone on and on, so that’s somewhat important to him.

Jaskier closes his eyes and starts to lean in when Geralt opens the car door. Jaskier opens his eyes.

“I had a great time, thank you,” Geralt says, one hand on the top of the car.

Jaskier bites his lip, stopping himself from saying what he wants. “Me, too. Let’s do it again some time?”

Geralt nods eagerly, and Jaskier watches him walk away, his gaze fixed on Geralt’s devastating pants and not at all on the way his ass looks in them.

Jaskier rests his head on the steering wheel in despair. He doesn’t know how to be any more heavy handed than this. He went and donated blood! And Geralt let him pay for their meal! He’s not sure how he can get across the point any better that he’s a talking blood bag, and he’s open for business.

Jaskier heaves a gigantic sigh and resolves to go home and plot his next move.

Maybe Geralt’s just shy.

Well. Jaskier can work with that

-

Geralt’s weekend passes in its normal fashion. He goes for a run, drinks some blood out of his supply in the fridge, then crashes on the couch for a whole day while he thinks of anything other than work. Sometimes Eskel lets himself in using his key, but he doesn’t that weekend, and Geralt crosses his arms over his chest as he tortures himself thinking of what Eskel might be doing.

Eskel’s never had problems making friends, unlike Geralt, so he’s sure he’s out having a good time with them.

Geralt used to be good at making friends, gods damn it, before all of them died of old age and he just didn’t see the point anymore. He’s come to suppose that there’s not all that much of a point in immortality if all he does is work, though.

The weekend’s over just as quickly as it began, and on Monday night, he can’t help the smile that creeps across his face when Jaskier texts him about some inane thing he noticed. Was he thinking of Geralt? That’s...nice.

Cautiously, Geralt lets himself hope that something is going to come out of this.

But first, he needs to tell Jaskier he’s a vampire. He wouldn’t be the first person to run away screaming, even though they are much more accepted now than they used to be.

Geralt shudders as he thinks of the industrial revolution. No regard for any monsters then. Humans invent light bulbs, and all of a sudden they think they’re too good for a healthy dash of respect.

Geralt looks back down at his phone, at a music video Jaskier sent him of someone playing a singing saw.

He lets himself focus on that a while.

-

Wednesday creeps around, and with it, Geralt’s weekly meeting.

He takes his spot in his customary chair, and looks around for Lambert, ignoring the look Eskel is trying to burn through the side of his face with.

“Why do I have to be here, again?” Geralt asks, when he gives up on Lambert to come save him.

Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s an argument they’ve had more than once. “If you won’t become a sponsor, you have to at least show them that things get better.”

Geralt huffs a breath out through his nose as he watches the regulars file in. There’s one new person, and Geralt eyes her curiously. She looks a little terrified, and Geralt softens in sympathy.

The meeting starts, and they go around in the circle, the seat beside Geralt still empty in Lambert’s tardiness.

“Hi, I’m Geralt, and I’m a blood addict,” he drones when it’s his turn.

When they’ve moved on to their personal struggles for the week, Lambert finally appears, dropping into his chair.

He elbows Geralt, seemingly unaware of everyone staring at them.

“Hey, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

Geralt firmly fixes a scowl in place and ignores him. He’s not sure why he even wanted Lambert to show up in the first place.

Geralt leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he listens to everyone else, Eskel being disgustingly reassuring to them all, as per usual. Geralt stamps the jealousy down. It’s not Eskel’s fault he’s so good with people.

The meeting drags by, and when it’s finally over, Lambert doesn’t let Geralt just sneak away. He digs his elbow into his side again, holding Geralt by the shoulder. “You didn’t answer me earlier. What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“I’m not,” Geralt says.

Lambert hums. “You don’t have your usual storm cloud above your head, so I’m going to count it.”

Geralt scowls at him and looks at Eskel for back up, but Eskel just raises his eyebrows at him.

“I hate you both,” Geralt grumbles.

“You love us,” Lambert says.

“Fine. I made a new friend,” he grates out.

Lambert and Eskel exchange an insufferable look.

“What?” Geralt demands.

“You, make a friend? Well, we’re just going to have to hear all about this to believe it.”

Geralt huffs, but he tells them about Jaskier.

“He took you to dinner? And paid? And you think he wants to be just friends?” Lambert asks.

Geralt flaps his hands around and hisses, “Look, I’ve barely been anywhere that isn’t here or work in the last three decades, how am I supposed to keep up with all this human nonsense? And besides, I haven’t even told him I’m a vampire yet. I’ll be lucky if he even wants to be my friend after that.”

Eskel bites his lip. “You know that’s a turn on for some humans, right?”

“What?”

“And you said he scraped his knee the first time he saw you? Geralt, I think he already knows, and he’s just trying to get in your pants.”

Geralt deflates. That makes a twisted sort of sense. “Oh.”

Lambert punches him in the arm. “Hey, lighten up. If anyone can charm him with their stunning personality, it’s you.”

“Fuck off.”

-

It’s difficult to fall asleep that night.

-

A week goes by without him answering any of Jaskier’s texts. He still painstakingly reads and savors each one, but he can’t bring himself to reply. If he was looking for some sort of...fling, he would have gone on one of those apps Eskel keeps telling him about.

As pathetic as it sounds, he could really use a friend. And if sex came later, well, Geralt wouldn’t complain, but he just desperately needs someone who’s going to stick around. He needs someone just for himself, someone outside of Lambert and Eskel who isn’t going to tease him about every little thing.

Geralt sighs. This was at least good practice. Maybe he can try again with someone else.

His heart sinks at the thought. He doesn’t really want someone else. Jaskier wormed his way into his chest in just a week, and Geralt knows he could yank him out with only a little pain if he tried, he doesn’t want to.

Geralt wants to have something nice, for once.

-

Jaskier bites his lip as he peers out the car window at Geralt’s house. He’s half scared there’s not going to be an answer when he knocks, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do then. He thought their date went swimmingly, so he’s not sure why Geralt suddenly stopped answering him unless something happened.

Jaskier has a vision of getting into the house only to find Geralt on the floor, the only way to revive him being letting Geralt drink straight from his neck, obviously leading to Geralt ravishing him against the nearest wall.

Jaskier shakes himself like a dog. Geralt’s given him no interest in anything like that at all. Maybe he needs to lower his expectations. The dude seems lonely, anyway, so maybe he just wants someone to talk to that’s not one of his coworkers.

Geralt told him he’s an actuary, and from the questions he asked of Geralt and Geralt didn’t answer, he’s not convinced that Geralt talks to his coworkers at all.

Jaskier blows out a puff of breath as he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door. He’s not sure what he hopes is going to happen when he opens the door.

He walks up the door and knocks.

He waits an agonizing moment before the door swings open, revealing Geralt. He looks even paler than Jaskier remembered him, wearing a pair of sweatpants with a hole in the crotch that he can see Geralt’s plaid boxers through and a t-shirt with a collar that’s outrageously stretched. Jaskier swallows hard.

“Have you considered not oiling the hinges? I think it would do you a world of good to develop a creaky door aesthetic.”

Geralt’s forehead wrinkles adorably. “What?”

“Just, you know. Being a vampire and all.”

Geralt slumps against the door frame. “How long have you known?”

Now it’s Jaskier’s turn to be confused. “Known what?”

“That I’m a vampire!”

“Oh.” Jaskier pauses. “I didn’t think it was a secret.”

Geralt’s hand pauses in its path of trailing the wood grain of the door. “Do you have a...kink?” he spits.

Jaskier raises his hands. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

Geralt fixes him with an unconvinced look.

“Look, that might have been part of the initial intrigue, but—”

Geralt raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“But, you’re really fucking hot and also possibly the most boring person I know, but...I’m into it. You know all these weird facts and—gods know I could use a little stability in my life.”

Geralt gives him a bashful smile, and Jaskier wonders if anyone has said anything nice to him at some point this century. “Yeah?”

Jaskier leans across the threshold and cups Geralt’s face with his hands, their mouths a breath apart. “Yeah.”

[forever-rogue]

Bitter

A/N: Pain? Pain? Did someone ask for some pain? No? Well, here’s some pain anyways! No happy endings in sight! Enjoy! Xx (also very loosely based on the song Bitter!)

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: language, light smut (18+ only!)

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

He's here. Of course he is.

You were mildly surprised, but honestly, you'd have been more surprised if he'd skipped out. 

You clutched your glass of wine so tightly that it seemed to be a miracle that it didn't shatter into a thousand tiny little bits. Just like your heart had done. Because of him. Because of Javier.

You hated him. But in a sick and twisted way, all through how the universe seemed to work, you couldn't ever completely hate him. When you'd been good, you were good. Great even. But as soon as things turned sour, they'd gone bitter in a heartbeat. 

For a man that claimed he didn't do relationships, Javier Peña proved to be an excellent partner - a good friend, a caring lover, and a fun time. That was until he decided that relationships absolutely weren't his thing. Because everything had been a lie.

But maybe it had been you? 

Because for a man that claimed he didn't do relationships, he sure had liked it with you - until he didn't. Apparently he was willing to wager all of that again - or needed something else from someone else.

At least that's what you gleaned from the blonde that was hanging onto his arm and giggling at seemingly everything he said. It was enough to make you want to throw up then and there. 

You’d been at this silly little holiday party for long enough, you suddenly decided. Downing the rest of your wine, the slight buzz had set in but wasn’t enough to actually help to suppress your feelings, you resolved to make a few goodbyes and leave. Going home to an empty and dark apartment was better than staying here. 

“You might as well just shoot him,” Steve Murphy’s voice reached your ears and you tensed up before realizing who it was. The tall blonde was standing next to you, a drink in his own hand and a scowl on his face, “it’d be easier than glaring daggers all night.”

“Which is precisely why I’m leaving,” you took your empty flute and shoved it in his hand. You almost felt bad for snapping at him - almost. He’d been Javier’s partner and friend first and foremost, and although you’d come to know him as your own friend, it was still hard to separate the two of them. But he was a good man, and to be fair, he’d been almost as men to Javier as you had when it all went down. However, unlike you, he was stuck working with him. You were lucky enough to work for the CIA instead of the DEA, so you had the mercy of getting to easily avoid him.

“I’ve never seen her before,” he offered as if that was going to make everything better, “he’s probably-”

“I don’t care,” you insisted sharply, bitter venom lacing your words, “I really don’t, Steve. I just - I’m leaving.”

“Do you need me to-”

“I’m good,” you insisted. 

You were anything but. 

“Kid-”

“I’m good,” you repeated firmly as you pressed past him and headed for the exit of the stuffy hall. You didn’t even bother turning around to say goodbye to say or anything. You just wanted to get out of there and go home as quickly as possible. 

Fuck Javier Peña. Fuck him for making you fall in love with him, and fuck him for breaking you in one foul swoop. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You know, for someone that claims he’s not into the whole romantic relationship bullshit,” you grinned at Javi as you sat on his kitchen counter, swinging your legs back and forth as he prepared dinner, “you’re pretty good at it.”

“Hmm,” he mused as he took a sip of his beer before putting his hands on your thighs and stepping between your legs, “maybe your standards are too low, Dulzura.”

“Maybe you don’t give yourself enough credit,” you teased back, only to be silenced by Javier crashing his lips onto yours. You could already feel yourself melting into his touch, as his arms wrapped around your waist and yours around his neck, “Javi.”

Before things could go any further, the two of you were interrupted by a loud crackling from the pan. A heavy sigh left his lips as he pressed one more to your forehead before he turned back to the pan, “I will admit, I never thought I’d be here making you dinner.”

“Me specifically, or a woman in general?” you carded a hand through his dark locks before smirking at him.

“Both,” he admitted, “not a woman in general because like I said, fuck this romantic bullshit, and definitely not you, because we didn’t start on the best terms when you got here.”

“That was because you were an asshole,” you stuck out your tongue as he just laughed. 

“And you were a bitch,” you nodded at his assessment. Neither of you had been particularly kind to the other upon your first several encounters. Javier was stubborn and hard-headed, you were fierce with a lot to prove in a male dominated world. Opposites on an unwavering spectrum, and yet more alike than either of you cared to admit. That's probably why you'd both been at each other's throats time and time again - you insisted he was a chauvinistic pig; he swore you were an ice queen that just hated everyone.

One thing had led to another and eventually there was a singular moment that broke the proverbial camel's back. It had been a quiet evening with both of you trying to get work done that had led you to say something to Javier to which he had responded with a simple, but calculated, uh huh honey. 

You couldn't even respond with any words, funding yourself utterly unable, before you grabbed the collar of his slightly too tight pink button up and crashing your lips fiercely onto his. He'd responded in kind - eager and more than willing.

That night, which you'd both sworn up and down would be a one time thing, quickly turned into more. More turned into Javier dropping his nighttime visits to the brothels, and focusing on you. More had turned into this.

"I don't think we've really changed," you admitted as you reached for his beer and downed the rest of it in one go with a wicked smirk, "I think we've just come to realize we're good together. In case you haven't noticed babe, I still have to put up with so much shit. Have some tits and men find it fitting to treat you like a piece of meat."

“You know if anyone ever does or says another thing to you, I’ll-”

“I know, Javier,” you promised with a noncommittal shrug of your shoulders, "I just want to be able to do things on my own and be respected. Just like you and Steve and all the other men are."

"You outshine them all easily," he set the spoon down on the edge of the pot, crossing his arms over his broad chest, "they're idiots. You're not - never forget that."

"How very sweet," you rolled your eyes playfully at his dramatic words but you knew he was truthful, "a model boyfriend. You're better at this whole thing than you give yourself credit for."

"Yeah yeah,"  he snorted as he flipped you off, "don't get used to it - or tell anyone. Just for you, Dulzura."

"Don't worry, baby," you shot him a cheeky wink, "our little secret for now."

»»————-　♡　————-««

The door to your apartment was thrown open in anger as you stumbled in, trying to contain your tears of anger. Stumbling over your own feet, you kicked off your heels and cursed them before slamming the door shut and locking it. You weren’t drunk, nowhere near drunk to be honest, but gods did you wish you were. Anything to get the persistent thought of him out of your mind. 

He was the one that fucking cheated, and yet here you were, the one that was suffering. All while he seemed to be having the time of his life. 

A heavy sigh escaped past chapped lips as you dragged yourself to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. One look at the label caused you to audibly groan - even it had to remind you of him. It was his favorite kind, left over from one of the many times he’d brought take out and beer over for an easy dinner after a long day. 

Throwing it into the sink, the bottle shattered and the golden liquid rushed down the drain as you only cried harder. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You shouldn’t still care this much. But that was the root of the problem - you did care. Because you’d loved him, fully and completely and thought he loved you too. A silly, foolish thought. 

Dragging yourself to the couch, you flopped onto your back and covered your wet eyes with the back of your arm as you tried to calm yourself. But it only worked momentarily as you remembered all the times you’d been with him on this couch. 

How he’d pull you into his lap, and kiss you until you were both breathless. How he’d fuck you after a long hard day, coming in to find you ready and waiting for him. How he’d lay down and watch television with you next to him, a messy tangle of limbs and lips. 

How he’d said I love you for the first time on this very couch.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Javi,” your moan was like the sweetest music in his ear as he leaned down to pepper kisses along your neck and jaw. Your arms wrapped around him like a vice grip as you held his body close to yours while he thrusted into you, “right there, please. Yes.”

"I've got you, baby," he whispered as he dragged his tongue along your collarbone, continuing to meet the roll of your hips with slow thrusts, "you feel so fucking perfect."

"Right there," your eyes squeezed shut as your toes started to curl and your vision became hazy. That familiar warmth of your release washed over your whole body, "Javier."

"Fuck, Dulzura," he dropped his head and rested it in the crook of your shoulder as he felt your walls tighten around him. He moaned in your ear, low and sultry, as your huffed him to your body, "I- fuck - I love you."

And just like that it felt your whole world suddenly stopped. Your eyes snapped wide open as you tried to figure out if what you thought he said was actually said or if it was made up in your mind. But as you met his dark eyes, there was a nervous, panicked look in them. Clearly he hadn't meant to say them out loud.

"Javier?" you reached up and touched his cheek before gently brushing away a stray lock of hair. He keened into your touch as it was enough to push him over the edge and he spilled inside of you. He all but collapsed on you, suddenly boneless, the magnitude of his words not lost on him, "did you mean it? I-I don't want to hear it unless you mean it."

And then it was silent for a few moments as you tried to catch your breath.

"Yes," he finally broke the tension and slowly lifted off you. Pulling out in one fluid motion, he sat back on the couch and pulled you into his lap, "I fucking mean it. I've never said it like this before to anyone, but fuck if I don't mean it."

"Javier,” you leaned and crashed your lips against, hungry and wanting, just as needy as before he fucked you senseless. It was messy and hard, both of you fighting for dominance as his large hand found the back of your neck and he held you close to him, “you’re an asshole. But I love you too.”

“Dulzura,” his hands found your bum as he gave it a firm a squeeze and caused you to grind against him, causing him to moan into your mouth, “fuck me.”

“I plan on it,” you whispered with a smirk on your face as he practically melted into your touch.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You slid off the couch in a fit of your own tears and choked back sobs. How could you fall for such a lie; you felt so stupid, so dumb, so used. You worked for the fucking CIA, you should have been able to spot a lie from a mile away.  But this one, the one right in front of your face, whispered to you during an intimate and sacred moment, had blindsided you and played you for a fool. 

Javier Peña was a fucking liar. He did it for a living half the time; why should this have been any different? Apparently they weren’t. You were just another way for Javier to have control over something and get his pent up anger and energy. 

He had moved on, so easily, so effortlessly, all while you were here, falling apart. You’d never let someone in like this before, had never opened up to someone so fully and completely. 

This was a prime example of why you didn’t.

You pulled yourself up from the floor and wiped at your teary eyes and snotty nose and dragged yourself to the bedroom. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What are you thinking about, Dulzura?” his voice was still thick with sleep as he draped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest. You made a small sound of delighted surprise, but your eyes were still firmly closed. It was early still and the dawn’s morning light was just beginning to filter in through your sheer curtains.

“‘M sleeping,” you insisted groggily, barely able to contain your giggles as he pressed kisses to your shoulder. 

“Bullshit,” he whispered as you huffed in jest. He could always read you like a book; the truth was that you’d been up for some time, eyes closed as a million thoughts ran through your mind, “you’re much too quiet to be asleep.”

“You realize what you’ve said is an oxymoron, right?”

“When applied to normal people yes, but with you - no,” he called out completely and you slowly turned around so you were facing him. He was right - you tended to make some sort of noises or sounds as you slept. The fact that it was dead silent was a giveaway, “dime, Cariño.”

“It’s nothing important, Javi,” you insisted as you rested your head next to his on the soft pillow. He sighed dramatically as he traced aimless shapes into your back, his fingers surprisingly soft and warm, “in the chaos that are our lives, it’s absolutely trivial and silly.”

“I like trivial and silly - I like you,” he insisted as his soft brown eyes studied yours, “out with it, or it’ll kill me all day, baby.”

“I was just thinking about this,” you pointed to his body and yours, “us. What are we doing? What’ll happen to us when all of this is over and we can be...normal?”

“What do you want to happen?”

“I asked you first, asshole,” you laughed as he kissed your forehead, “I like this - us - but if this is all that there’s ever going to be, I kind of want to know that too.”

“What do you want?” he asked, suddenly adopting a serious, “do you want this? If you want this...I want this too.”

“Javier,” reaching up slowly, you placed a gentle hand on his cheek as you watched him for a few moments before placing a chaste kiss to his plush lips, “I want this...I want you. I’m all in.”

“I know it probably doesn’t seem like much, but you have me,” he promised, and you could feel yourself practically melting into him, “that much you never have to question.”

“I love you,” you whispered before closing your eyes and let him pull against him as you left call you back, “I mean it, Javier. I didn’t think I ever would love anyone, especially not you, but it’s true.”

“I love you too, Dulzura.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was all a fucking lie. Your chest rose and fell in anger as you grabbed the few pictures you had of yourself and Javier off of your dresser and smashed them onto the floor. The bed sheets were next, including the pillows that seemed to be doomed to smell like him for all eternity. Everything went into an angry messy pillow on the floor as you trembled with anger and upset exhaustion. 

“Oh god,” you whispered in a choked sob to yourself as you buried your face in your hands. How could it hurt this fucking much? All because of one man. 

Because you loved him so fucking much it made your heart physically ache. Because you loved him with every fiber of your being, Because you had loved him fully and fallen for every single pretty little word he offered you. Because you loved him completely and he had just dumped you as soon as you were no longer shiny and new. As soon as someone else caught his eye.

How easy it had been for him. All the while you had been an oblivious fool.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I’m going to go and start laundry,” the basket under your arm was full with a combination of your clothes. Javier had been spending more and more time at your apartment, almost like he lived there. And it was all terribly natural; a domestic bliss that effortlessly fell into place. 

“Need a hand?” Javier was busy in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. There was finally some down time and you’d collectively decided to have a lazy, quiet weekend in.

“I got it,” you promised as you opened the door to head to the laundry, “be back in a few.”

He made a small sound of acknowledgment as you left. You hummed to yourself as you walked down the stairs and into the deserted open, grabbing the first washer you saw. Pulling out the clothes one by one, you placed them in, but confusion quickly hit you. Javier’s work shirts had a...different smell to them. Frowning, you brought the pink button up to your nose and took a good whiff. Immediately, your heart started to pound in your chest as you realized that it most definitely wasn’t your perfume or his aftershave on it. 

Quickly tossing the offending article into the washer, you grabbed another shirt and smelled it again, only to find the same thing. That’s when you realized - those were both shirts he had been wearing on the nights he’d come home extremely late, long after you’d been in bed. 

A sense of dread and doom washed over you like a tidal wave as you abandoned everything and ran up the stairs to your apartment. You burst through the door and Javier jumped at the intrusion as he looked at you with a surprised look on his face, “is everything okay?”

“I don’t know, Javier,” there was a shake to your voice as you closed the door behind you and looked him dead in the eyes, refusing to look away, “tell me - is everything okay?”

“Dulzura-”

“Your shirts,” your voice cracked as you realized you were about to hear the inevitable. You felt like you already knew the truth, but hearing it from his own mouth was what you needed, “they don’t smell like you...o-o-or me. What happened to your shirts, Javier? And you don’t lie to me. Don’t you dare fucking lie to me.”

“If you have to ask, then you already know,” how easily he steeled himself as he set his spoon on the stove and turned off the pot. No emotion crossed his face as he started back at you with a neutral mask; Agent Pena was in full force, “look, dul - what do you want me to say?”

“Something? Anything?” tears had already pearled up and cascaded down your cheeks as you started at him in awe, “tell me you didn’t fucking cheat on me and you’re being this causal about this.”

“Then I won’t say it,” he whispered as he took a step closer, “because you already know.”

“You’re not even going to try and defend your actions?” you felt like this must have been some sort of hysterical joke at your expense. Everything was crumbling down around you and he didn’t even seem to care, “Javier, I love you - I’m….I’m in love with you. Y-you told me you loved me too...that you wanted this.”

“For someone that works for the CIA you're not very observant sometimes,” he shook his head as he took a long breath in and out, “look...I’m not going to try and defend my actions or lie to you. I needed the information you could provide to me so I could get a leg up on your little department. This is a messy game, chiquita, a messy game where you can’t trust anyone and you need to watch your every move. In this game, you win or you die, there’s no other way to look at it. You gave me what I needed, so I gave you what you needed.”

“A lie,” your mind was reeling as you tried to make sense of it all and his words crashed around your ears. None of this was ever real….it was all a lie, a horrid, painful lie. At your expense, “it never meant anything to you.”

“I care about you,” he insisted as you scoffed between your sobs, “and I do want to keep you safe. I just...you had more insight than I could have imagined. It was a good thing while it lasted, right? Why look at this as more than it was?”

“Because I love you!” you shouted at him, “because this was real to me! Because I imagined a life and a future with you. How could you do this? You could have just been honest with me…”

“We both know that never would have worked,” he laughed bitterly, “but think of all the good times, they were real at the time, weren’t they? You were happy…”

“While living a lie,” you reminded him, “it was never real. You never...you never loved me. I should have known that none of this ever meant anything to you.”

“Listen-”

“When would you have told me the truth?”

“Eventually,” he shrugged as he stared at his feet, “we’re not alloted this type of life, this romantic bullshit - we’re just not. You have to accept and move on.”

“Get out,” you couldn’t believe that every good thing in your life for the past year had been a lie. Who else had known? Who else was in on it?

“I will keep you safe,” he promised but you weren’t even sure if you could trust that much. When did his lies start and stop?

“I said get out,” you threw open the door and pointed at it for him to leave, “I never want to see you or hear your voice again. If I do, it will be too soon. I loved you, Javier. I really fucking did. I can’t believe I actually pictured a future with you. I can’t believe I thought I meant a goddamn thing to you. Get out and leave and don’t ever come back.”

“I-”

“Get out!” you screamed as you rushed down the hall to your bedroom and slammed the door closed. You collapsed onto the floor into a fitful, sobbing rage. You heard him igh heavily a few times before the sounds of his retreating footsteps reached your ears and he left, closing the door gently behind him. 

You felt like a fucking fool. Used and hurt and worst of  - heartbroken.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Examining the mess on your floor, you gave it a good kick before leaving the room and your apartment all together. You quickly ran outside and down the few blocks to Javier’s apartment, clutching at the spare key in your pocket. 

You could see that his lights were off, and he likely wouldn’t be home for sometime. You jogged up the stairs and let yourself into his place, sighing at the familiarity of it all. 

It looked exactly like it had the last time you’d been there. Pictures of the two of you were strewn through and you still found your clothes hanging in his closet.

Just like you had done at your own place, you smashed each picture on the floor, making sure it was all utterly destroyed. Your clothes were ripped to shreds and joined the glass rubble. It was probably wrong, probably too childish, but in the moment you didn’t care. Your entire love, your entire future had all been a lie. 

When you were satisfied with your handiwork, you threw the key on top of the pile and walked out, not even bothering to slam the door. You walked back home slowly, soaking in the sights and sounds of the city at night. It was calming - grounding even - usually. But tonight it failed completely. All you could focus on was your ragged breathing and the blood pounding in your ears. 

It all served as a singular reminder.

You were stupid, foolish, and dumb. And now - bitter. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[lostinthewiind]

Hi!!! I just wanted to say that I freaking love your cherry X Joe X Reader poly series! And its actually got me into the anime!!! I was actually wondering if you want to, write one where the female! Reader is being stalked and harassed by a co-worker at her job and she didn't want to tell Joe and cherry because she doesn't want them to worry about her too much because they already have so much on their plates. But one day, the two of them decide to pick up the her up to surprise her, flowers and everything. And they see the co-worker harassing their lover and it's up to you to determine how they would react? Can also plz make were the three of them are engaged?

Polyamorous Relationship w/ Joe & Cherry: Your Problems, My Problems, Our Problems

A/N: first of all, I'm so honoured to hear that I got you into anime :) Secondly, I can already feel that this request is going to be fun to write! I'll make sure to add an engagement fic to the series soon as well because I've been meaning to anyway. So happy that so many people seem to really like this series as much as I do.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: stalking, predatory behaviour, slightly angsty, profanity, someone who does NOT drink their 'respect women' juice

"Awh, come on, Sweetheart." Your coworker slipped into the elevator with you at the last second despite your desperate attempt to escape him at the end of the day. "Just one drink and then I'll never ask again."

You clenched your fist by your side on the opposite side of him so he wouldn't see. Mustering all of your strength, you forced a fake smile. "Sorry, I can't tonight. I've got plans with my boyfriend."

You had been dropping these not-so-subtle hints that you absolutely were not interested for months on end by now, but your coworker was either completely blinded by his persistence or was willingly ignoring them in favour of achieving his goal.

At first, when you had transferred to his floor at the company building, he had come across as nothing more than a kind mentor offering to show you the ropes. But then, bit by bit, he got pushier. 'Get to know your coworkers' dinners soon turned to just the two of you alone at a bar, which quickly turned into a situation that you found uncomfortable and ever since then, you had turned down all of his advances.

In the beginning, you had tried to make your excuses believable and turn him down nicely since he was above you in the company, but as the weeks passed and he still didn't seem to get the message, your responses got shorter and less believable. Now he was asking you out pretty much every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes he would even follow you to your car to make sure you were going home just like you said you were.

You weren't sure when it had happened, exactly, but things had gone from annoying to anxiety-inducing seemingly overnight and you had no idea what to do about it.

"You always mention this 'boyfriend' of yours," he used air quotes to make it clear that he didn't believe you, "but I've never seen him. Sure you aren't lying just to get me to go away?"

You chuckled nervously, hoping to come up with a quick answer to satisfy him for the night so that he wouldn't feel the need to tail you to your car. "No, of course not. He just has a busy work schedule as well. You know how it is."

He eyed you sternly, his gaze almost piercing. "Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight."

As soon as the elevator doors slid open on the main floor of the building, he gave a wave and exited before you and headed for the front doors. Slowly, you followed him out, and as soon as you saw him disappear into the darkness of the night, you exhaled shakily and took a moment to regain your composure.

You honestly didn't know how you managed to seem so calm and collected around him on the daily considering your heart always pounded ruthlessly against your rib cage whenever you saw him.

Once you were fully composed again, you made your way to your car as fast as possible and drove back home, knowing that seeing Joe and Cherry would immediately make you feel better; not that they knew their presence was something you relied on at the end of the day because you refused to tell them.

At first, you kept it to yourself because it seemed harmless and you didn't want them to overreact and blow up at nothing, but then, as it got worse, it just seemed like the time to tell them had passed. And the last thing you wanted to do was worry them when they both already had exhausting work lives as well.

You simply didn't want to be a burden. You were sure they dealt with annoying coworkers as well and they didn't feel the need to bother you with those stupid little problems, so you wouldn't either.

Walking through the front door of your shared apartment, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders at the sight of Cherry at his desk and Joe sitting on the couch with the television playing some show on low volume. 

“I’m home,” you announced with a weary, but genuine, smile on your face. Before either of your boyfriends could utter a response, you had kicked off your shoes, made your way over to the couch, and curled up next to Joe with your face buried in his neck. His hair was wet, indicating he had just gotten out of the shower, and the smell of his shampoo and body wash calmed you instantly.

“Hey.” Joe wrapped an arm around you as he shared a quizzical look with Cherry. Usually, you would get changed, shower, and eat something before even thinking about relaxing for the night. “Everything okay?”

Realizing that you had basically announced that everything was not, in fact, okay with your unusual actions, you froze for a second. You contemplated just coming clean about everything right then and there, but before you could make a decision, the words “I’m fine” were spilling from your mouth.

“Just a long and exhausting day at work,” you followed up your lie with some details, not they they were technically false as it had been a long and exhausting day . . . just not for the reasons they thought. “I’ve been thinking about coming home to you two ever since my alarm went off this morning. Just one of those days.”

The sweet smiles that dawned Joe’s and Cherry’s faces proved that they believed you. “You hungry?” Joe pressed a kiss to your temple. “I brought home some leftovers from work again.”

Your eyes lit up and Joe chuckled. “Really?” You found yourself forgetting about your troubles in the blink of an eye. 

“Really really.” Joe nodded. “I can heat some up for you if you want to shower and get changed.”

Pulling a dramatically emotional face, you faked a sniffle. “You’re the best, you know that?” You planted a big kiss to his lips before heading for the bedroom and stopping in the doorway. “You’re the best too, Kaoru,” you added for good measure so your other boyfriend didn’t feel left out before vanishing into the bedroom. 

You heard Cherry scoff amusingly in the background, but by then you were in too good of a mood to throw something snarky back at him and were determined to enjoy the moment because you knew that this good feeling would disappear as soon as you started work again in the morning. 

But for now, you could enjoy the comforts of your home and the two people you loved most in the world.

                                              ━━━━━━━━

As you finished your work for the day and got ready to head home, overjoyed that it was the last night you would have to work overtime for a while, you were surprised that you had managed to get through the day with little interaction or pestering from your coworker.

You didn’t want to jinx yourself or anything, but for a brief moment the thought that he had finally given up crossed your mind. Out of the corner of your eye, you scanned the office for him but he was nowhere to be seen. Sighing in relief, you gathered your things and made a bee-line for the elevator.

For once, you had managed to get through an entire day without being cornered and asked out for the millionth time. 

As the elevator doors opened and you stepped out into the lobby, you spotted two familiar faces waiting for you at the front doors and you felt your heart swell with excitement. You had expected both your boyfriends to be busy tonight with work, the same as you were, so seeing them both standing there, waiting for you with flowers in hand, was a welcomed surprised.

Thinking that today was actually a good day for once, you rose your hand to wave with a grin on your face, a feeling of freedom and joy spreading through you  . . . that was until you felt a hand clasp down on your shoulder. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Immediately, your good mood had vanished.

Slowly, you lowered your hand—your smile fading in the process—and turned around to face your coworker. 

“Thought you could get away without me noticing?” His grin was wide and toothy, like a predator showing off its fangs to prove how powerful it was. He didn’t pay any mind to Joe or Cherry, which meant that he either didn’t know they were there for you or didn’t care. 

“I’m actually in a bit of a hurry.” You gestured over to your boyfriends, hoping that the realization that your significant other was real would finally be enough to scare him off. “I’ve got plans.”

He glanced Joe and Cherry’s way briefly, but it did nothing to deter him. “Oh, so you do actually have a boyfriend. Which one is he?”

You swallowed hard. Usually, explaining the whole polyamory thing was too time-consuming so you told people you had a boyfriend and left it at that. “It’s, well . . . um . . .”

Before you were forced to answer, Joe and Cherry had noticed your discomfort from across the lobby and started making their way over. The look in Joe’s eyes gave away that he was none too pleased that your male coworker still had his hand on your shoulder. 

“This must be one of your coworkers,” Cherry was the first to speak, extending his hand politely to your coworker. “Nice to meet you.”

Your coworker used his free hand to shake Cherry’s while Joe just grunted in disapproval. In a desperate attempt to escape the situation without causing a scene, you tried to shift closer to Joe but were stopped by your coworker’s hand clamping down harder on your shoulder. 

“We’re the boyfriends.” Joe’s grip tightened around the bouquet of flowers he was holding as he reached out, wrapped an arm around your waist, and pulled you away from your coworker and toward him. 

“Boyfriends? As in plural?” Your coworker tilted his head at you quizzically. “You never told me you had two boyfriends.”

“I never-” you started, but you were quickly cut off.

“I’m a little surprised you’re real,” your coworker said, somehow seemingly completely unfazed. “I was seriously beginning to believe she was making you up to avoid going out with me.”

You shook your head and chuckled nervously, something you found yourself doing around him a lot in order to keep the mood light. “I would never lie to you. It’s just busy schedules is all, like I said yesterday.”

“Going out with you?” Cherry cocked a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “The woman tells you she has a boyfriend and you still insist on asking her out?”

Your coworker just laughed. “Well we used to go out all the time when she first switched departments. I thought she was just playing hard to get but I guess not.”

Both Joe and Cherry turned to you, glimmers of confusion in their eyes. “You used to go out?” Joe asked, concerned that they had just found out you had been cheating on them. 

“No!” you blurted out. “Well, I mean, yes, but it was as a group of coworkers. Never just the two of us.”

“Never?” your coworker repeated. “What about those times at the bar? Did you seriously forget? That hurts my feelings, you know.”

You felt your cheeks flush red and your heart begin to pound. Suddenly, you had been backed into a corner by your past self’s naive kindness. “I didn’t know it was going to be just the two of us until I showed up,” you stated quietly. “You lied to me to get me to go.”

“Is that true?” Joe placed a finger under your chin and lifted your head to get you to look him in the eyes. You could tell he wasn’t accusing you of anything, only looking for answers.

You nodded, finally feeling brave enough to tell the truth with your boyfriends by your side. “Once I realized he was after something more, I started turning down his propositions. Then he started asking me every day . . . then he started following me to my car,” you whispered the last part, worried about what might happen if your coworker heard you say that part. “Can we please leave now?”

Noticing that your hands were shaking and your bottom lip was quivering, Joe instantly knew that you were telling the truth; no one would ever be so terrified to tell a lie like this. “Yes, of course, we can leave now.” He held you closer. “Whatever you want.”

“So you’re gonna lie and make me look like the bad guy here?” your coworker huffed, truly playing the victim card to the fullest. “I’m the asshole because I wanted to buy you a few drinks and get to know you better?”

“No, you’re the asshole for continuing to pursue her when she clearly told you no,” Cherry snapped, now just as angry as Joe was, maybe even more. “She’s kind and, because of that, probably turned you down nicely—too nicely—and you took advantage of that . . . you fucking prick.”

Your eyes widened with disbelief. Usually, Cherry was the one to remain calm in stressful or aggravating situations, but apparently not this time. You rarely heard him curse or snap, let alone at someone he met for the first time five minutes ago. 

Reaching out, you grabbed hold of Cherry’s hand and squeezed lightly to catch his attention. “I really think we should leave now,” you told him. 

Drawing in a deep breath and collecting himself, Cherry agreed. “Yes, you’re right, we should. We have dinner plans and it would be a waste to miss them on account of this asshole.”

“Fine, have it your way.” Your coworker finally seemed to give in, but not without hurling a few insults your way first, of course. “I shouldn’t have wasted my time on someone like you anyway. What, two boyfriends is perfectly fine but three is crossing a line? Give me a fucking break. Slut.”

You saw the rage bubbling up in both Joe and Cherry, but before they had the chance to do anything about it, your coworker had turned his nose up at the three of you, pushed his way past, and exited the building. 

As soon as he was completely out of sight, they both turned to you and you felt the tears begin to well in your eyes; not necessarily because you were sad or angry, but because you were so relieved that the truth had finally come out and your coworker had finally been dealt with. 

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke through gentle sobs, trying to calm down all the while. “I should have told you two about him when it all first started but I just didn’t want to burden you two with an issue that seemed so . . . so stupid.”

“Stupid?” Joe pulled you in for an almost bone-crushing hug. “You said he was following you to your car. That’s not stupid. You must have been so scared.”

“You should have told us,” Cherry agreed. “Now that I know you were dealing with that all by yourself for months, it makes me feel like a bad boyfriend. I should have picked up on the signs, like when you came home completely drained last night. I wish we could have helped you sooner.”

Wiping away your tears, you drew in a deep breath. “Thank you for coming tonight and for telling him off. I just hope he doesn’t pull anything at work tomorrow . . . he is technically my superior.”

“If he tries anything, and I mean anything, you tell us right away. Okay?” Joe insisted. “From now on, no more secrets because you want to protect us or don’t want to burden us. Your problems are our problems.”

You nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank us. It’s our job to keep you safe and be there for you.” Cherry kissed your cheek softly. “Now, I’m starving so let’s go eat, yeah?”

Suddenly, you remembered just how hungry you were. “Yes, dinner sounds lovely.”

“Speaking of lovely, these are for you.” Joe handed you the bouquet of flowers—now with slightly smushed stems from his previous anger—that he had brought. 

“They are beautiful.” You took them happily and gave them a smell, the floral scent bringing your nerves down a little. “You two seriously are the best, you know that?”

“We know.”